11.
"Hello, Red."
Emily Charlton was straight. Except when she wasn't. It usually happened at the weekends when she hit the bars and ended up in bed with someone from the same sex. Tall, handsome and muscular, a little bit on the androgynous side. Just sex, preferably no talk and definitely no strings attached. That's how she liked them, and she liked them a lot. The woman standing at the office door was the perfect image of her type. She was at least six feet tall, tailored pants, shirt and vest showed off a lean, athletic body. She looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place her. Emily pursed her lips – a gesture she learnt from her ultimate idol Miranda Priestly – and gave the woman a disapproving look.
"Red? Really? How original."
Laughing, the woman flashed a self-assured smile and entered the room as if she owned the place. Leaning against Emily's desk she crossed her arms and whispered in mock seriousness.
"I had to come up with something. You're not big on exchanging names, remember?"
Looking at the woman closely her heart almost stopped. Emily felt her face burn as pictures of their night together from a couple months ago filled her mind. Wild, hot, sweaty sex. The best she'd ever experienced nonetheless. She was out with friends, celebrating her birthday. She drank a lot and stayed away from women. She didn't intend to pick up anyone, she didn't drink and dive. In her rule book one night stands required a clear head and a hotel room. That night she broke both. She was more than a little tipsy and she took the woman home. The next day arrived with a heck of a headache, a sore body and vague recollections of the previous night. No, no. This was not happening. What was the woman doing here? She had never run across any of her casual hook-ups before and she was very uncomfortable with the situation. The memories kept coming and she shifted in her seat. Pressing her thighs together she tried to control the growing arousal, originating in her groin. The cocky smile on the woman's face became wider and she winked at Emily. The woman clearly recognized what was happening and was undoubtedly enjoying the redhead's discomfort.
"But then again, it wasn't about becoming friends and sending Christmas cards to each other right?"
The patronizing tone flared Emily's temper. She sprang from the chair and grabbed her Starbucks cup, welcoming the comforting heat. Passing through the woman she hissed.
"Right, and you weren't in a hurry to introduce yourself either. I thought we were clear that it was a one-time event."
Emily didn't wait for an answer, she hurried toward the Closet, hoping the visitor would somehow disappear. Her wish wasn't granted because the woman was right behind her, matching her pace without effort.
"You think I'm here because of you? Cute. Keep up, Red. I'm looking for Miranda Priestly."
Emily was taken aback and maybe a little bit hurt but she wasn't about to give this arrogant woman any satisfaction by showing it. Not slowing down she answered over her shoulder, keeping her voice neutral.
"As you can see, Miranda is not here."
"Where is she?'
"Are you for real? It's Christmas Day. Where do you think she is?"
Christmas Day. Of course. The woman had totally forgotten about it. Holidays didn't mean anything to her. Not anymore. She spent almost all of the holidays in her office working. She overlooked the fact that others might have some kind of attachment to those special days. She silently cursed herself for making this mistake and appearing as a fool in front of the redhead. She'd occupied her new office in the Elias-Clark building the day before and in the morning she decided to look around. The building was practically empty, shiny.
"Christmas Day. Right. Then why are you here?"
"That's none of your bloody business."
Emily was pissed. She was pissed at herself for losing her cool and pissed at this insufferable stranger for being the cause of it. She was at work for god's sake. She couldn't act like a sex deprived house-wife, drooling over the pool boy...pool girl…Whatever.
They reached the Closet and Emily swiped her pass through the console. The new door was installed the day before adding a new layer of security to the Closet. Actually the only security and Emily didn't think that it was necessary. The Closet was a sanctuary and those who knew about its existence wouldn't have dared to break the unwritten rules. Or more like one rule really. You can borrow, you can try on anything and everything, just be sure that Miranda doesn't object to it. Who ordered the installation and why was a complete mystery, it was done overnight, one day before Christmas. Miranda wasn't informed yet and Emily hoped it wasn't her who would have to deliver the news. The editor won't take it kindly, that someone made decisions about her beloved Closet without consulting her. The console biped and…and nothing happened. Emily tried again. Nothing. She couldn't believe her bad luck. It was the first time she attempted to get into the Closet since the upgrade and the door didn't comply. All this when she wanted to hide from the irritating woman and not entertain the woman any further with her growing frustration.
"Great." she muttered "What now."
"Need help, Red?" the voice she had learned to hate in the last ten minutes sent shivers down her spine. The woman was standing close to her, so close that she felt the heat emerging from the muscular body. Emily breathed in her perfume, the unique bergamot scent enfolded her. She remembered how she smelt, how she tasted, how she sounded in the heat of passion. The memory, so vivid, sent all of her already heightened senses on red alert. She needed to get out of there, she needed the distance before she did something stupid, like get on her knees and beg the woman to fuck her into oblivion. She spun around, so fast that her heels couldn't catch up and one broke, throwing her out of balance, right against the woman's chest. Emily's tea left a trail of brown, down the woman's off-white shirt.
"Bloody hell." Kicking off her shoes Emily stumbled back starring in terror at the stains on the expensive shirt. Thankfully, the tea was no longer piping hot, at least she didn't have to worry about causing any possible injures.
"If you wanted me naked, you should have asked. I would gladly strip for you. Again." the woman deadpanned.
"Look, I don't know why you're here and at this point frankly I don't care. I'll replace your shirt, then you must leave. I just have to get in somehow."
Emily gave the door another try. Nothing.
"I wonder what bloody idiot thought that this was a good idea."
The woman cleared her throat to catch Emily's attention. When she had it, she pulled a pass card out of her pocket and swiped it. The door hissed open.
"Apparently, I'm the idiot." said the woman, her tone dry, the cocky smile gone.
Emily's eyes widened and she groaned. Could this day be any more embarrassing? Moments later she realized it could indeed.
"By the way, my name is Edna Martin. You can call me, Ed."