Danny didn't know what to do.
Here we was, a doctor, a professional, a Catholic for Gods sake, given the sacred job of caring for the health of women. And all he could do all day was think about doing the most indecent things to one of his colleagues.
A female colleague.
And lately, his "friend". A word he detested. He had successfully gone 30 some odd years with no female friends and he happened to like that about himself. He wasn't this effeminate New York metrosexual who had platonic female friends. Until this one female colleague insisted they were "friends".
"Danny." He heard. "You're being weird."
"Am I?" he said, his expression not changing, but his gaze moving over to the source of this complaint.
"Yes. You're staring off into space again, frowning. Can I come over and borrow your cast iron pan after work or not?"
Oh. It was the female colleague. Danny looked over to her. Mindy had grown on him in the eight years they worked together. Sure, he had always found her attractive. Small but full-figured, tiny waist and long, shiny black hair. Those flashing brown eyes that were lighter than his own. Her ability to laugh and enjoy everything, even him. He sometimes mocked her weight because it was the very thing that he was most drawn to; her ability to enjoy food and sweets revealed a personality that he was certain would enjoy certain other carnal pleasures. The number of men she paraded around the office over the years certainly corroborated that.
He had been married to a woman with no curves, and he admired her ascetic personality that produced such a figure. It was much like his own disciplined personality. It was not until the first day she worked at Shulman and Associates, and he saw Mindy walk away from him in a tight fitted pencil skirt and stiletto heels– okay, bounce away from him – did he realize what he had been missing out on. Finding out one day what she looked like without a stitch of clothing on.
"Earth to Danny. It's time to go, weirdo." Danny snapped to attention. Mindy was teasing him, biting her lower lip and cocking her eyes at him.
Yes, he had promised her she could borrow his cast iron pan. To make pancakes for her boyfriend, Cliff.
"Yeah, lets head to my place." He said, clearing his throat. She smiled at him, warmly.
Lately, she was so sweet to him. Mindy and him had come to an understanding, after the Christmas party. She knew, after the dance, on some level that he had strong feelings for her, but since he had not followed her outside to the courtyard, he understand that she must think he did not have romantic feelings for her. He could sense her disappointment and surprise as she left the room without him. It was mixed signals and he knew it.
Now she dated Cliff.
He had kicked himself mentally a thousand times since that decision not to follow her, but he could not blame her. The way she looked when she approached him in her office after the dance. She had steadied his insecure, spiraling self. She held him in her arms and said "What are you talking about? I loved it." Her eyes said: "Tell me you love me. Kiss me. "
But she was drunk. Danny could smell the alcohol on her smiling lips, even more so when they hugged. He did not even trust the hug. Something about the way she pressed him to her, full-bodiedly, her face and breasts and body and yes, even her most intimate area, had signaled to Danny that Mindy was drunk and not making rational decisions. Had it excited him? Sure. Had it taken every ounce of restraint not to follow her out of the room and into the elevator, where, once the doors were closed, he would've hitched her thigh up on his leg and pressed himself against her? To show her what kind of man he was. How her sweetness made him want to do romantic gestures for her, like the dance, sure, but also, he was a man who saw her as a woman.
But he didn't. And now she was with Cliff.