Day 2

My assistant has commandeered my office. She says it's only for two hours, but I'm a bit scared that at the end of the two hours it will go to just being her office, not back to being mine. Leo's been threatening to give Donna my job for years. I don't think it's a joke. Can you imagine me doing her research, booking her travel, typing her memos? See, me either. It's alarming. Donna could do my job any day, but I couldn't do hers for ten minutes.

Anyway, she's taken over my very comfortable chair, leaving me to sit in this not so comfortable visitor's chair reading the Low Income Housing Report for my meeting on the Hill later today. She's on my computer doing research on welfare reform. She says maintenance has her computer and won't be back with it for two more hours. I pointed to it sitting on her desk, but she assured me that's only the monitor and it doesn't do her any good without the tower.

Right now, she's got out her note cards. Donna is the queen of note cards. She also uses more post-it notes than anyone I've ever met. And once, Jeff from supplies told me that she goes through an alarming amount of scotch tape. I've never seen her tape anything.

"Donna, no more that 15 note cards."

"Impossible. I'm already at 36, and I'm not even close to done." At least I think that's what she said. She has a pencil sticking out of her mouth, so she's kind of mumbling.

"Did you get the statistics on the…"

"Yes."

"What about the…"

"Yes."

"And the…"

"That's what I'm doing now."

"What else is there?"

"Job training, child care, public transportation…"

I can't sit here anymore. This chair is NOT comfortable. I stand up, stretch, and walk over to the computer where Donna is. I put my left hand on her left shoulder and lean over her to get the note cards she's already written. Her hair tickles my neck and she smells incredible.

I've smelled Donna many times. Well, that just sounded gross. What I meant to say was…well…I've been in close enough proximity of Donna on numerous occasions that would lead me to… smell her. That didn't really sound any better, did it? Let's just move on. What I'm trying to say, and obviously can't, is that this is a new smell. It's, I don't know, fruity? In general, I'm not a fan of perfume. I'm also not a fan of flowery smells. They're too pungent. It's too much. Donna always smells great. She smells like a mixture of shampoo, baby lotion and fabric softener. It doesn't hurt my nose. It's subtle, like her.

But today, she smells…well, I think it's fruity, and I like it. It's really nice, and still subtle. In fact, I didn't smell it at all until I got right up here by her. Which leads me to this question: Why is she wearing some sort of fruity perfume that can only be smelled when someone is this close to her, and who is she letting get close enough to her to smell it? A date? A boyfriend? Is she trying to kill me? Wasn't the great sex/kissing conversation enough yesterday?

Why has she stopped typing? I turn my head to the left to look at her, and she's looking right at me. What? "What?"

"Why are you just standing there? Do you need something?" Oh no, how long have I been standing her smelling her? She's going to sue me for sexual harassment.

"Just reading over your shoulder." Good cover.

She turns back to the computer. "Oh, it's interesting, isn't it? The cities with extensive public transportation systems have a higher overall percentage of low-income families. But those are the same cities that have a higher standard of living. It's like a double-edged sword. They need the subway system, but it's harder to earn a living."

"Yes." I'm not really concentrating, and I'm not real sure what she's talking about. At this point, I've leaned into her neck a little bit more and I'm trying to figure out what that smell is. It's mesmerizing me. It smells good enough to taste. I'm tempted to just….

"What do you think about it?"

"It smells great. I love it," I mumble. She whips her head back to her right, hitting me in the process. I jump back to an upright position and she stares at me. Oh no, this is another one of those you need professional help' looks. What did I say? "What did I say?"

"You said it smells great and you love it. What are you talking about?"

What am I talking about? I'm talking about the fact that I want to throw you on my desk and taste every inch of your body with that stuff on it, and maybe a few areas without it. "Um, nothing?"

"What smells great?"

What smells great? What smells great? Think Lyman, what smells great? "Nothing?" Good comeback.

She seems to accept this as an answer. Either that, or she accepts the fact that I'm a complete idiot. But either way, she turns back to the computer and continues her research. I stay behind her, but standing up where I can't get into trouble. I'm just going to ignore the fact that she smells incredible.

"So, new perfume?" Ok, so I guess I can get into trouble anywhere, and apparently I can't ignore the fact that she smells incredible.

Her fingers freeze, but she keeps looking at the screen. "Is that what smells great?"

"It's…um…it's…fruity."

"It's lotion. It's called Pearberry."

This genuinely confuses me. Pears aren't berries are they? "Pears aren't berries."

"Can't get one past you, Josh." She says this in her you are a complete idiot' voice. She uses that voice a lot when she's talking to me. "It's supposed to be a mixture of pears and berries."

"Oh. Right."

"D'ya like it," she asks kind of hesitantly. That's so sweet. But of course I like it. I already said that it smells great and I love it.

"It's fine." Don't say it. Don't say it. "Why are you wearing it? Hot date tonight?" I said it. I can't believe I said it.

She laughs. She's laughing at me. "Josh, you asked me that yesterday too. Are you trying to set me up on a date or something?"

"NO!!!!" Uh oh, I said that really fast and really loud. "I, uh…" I what? I what???? "Just with the teeth whitening and the new perfume, I was just wondering."

"Lotion."

"Whatever. It's just that, well…"

"We have to work late tonight?"

What? No, we don't need to work late. "Yes. Maybe. Why, do you have plans?"

"No plans, but we worked late on Monday." She's whining. I love it when she whines. She has very pouty lips, and I just want to kiss them. Especially after the talk about the new toothbrush. It's all I thought about yesterday. Focus, Josh, focus.

"Yes, but yesterday you got to go home on time."

"On time? It's was 8:30 Josh." What? That's not on time? "I'll work late on one condition."

"What's the condition? That you get a paycheck on Friday?" I know; I'm clever.

"Funny." See, she says I'm funny, but she doesn't laugh. I think she's being sarcastic. "I want to take a long lunch hour tomorrow."

"WHAT? I normally don't give you a lunch hour at all, and tomorrow, you want a long one? What the hell?"

"Listen to yourself Josh. You just said you normally don't give me a lunch hour at all, yet YOUR'RE the one upset in this conversation?"

What's she trying to say? I don't get it. I sigh heavily. "Fine. You can take a full hour."

"Two."

"Two? No way. I need you here."

"Two Josh. Nordstrom's is having a sale and there's a sweater I want. If I'm working late tonight, I'll have to get it tomorrow during lunch."

"An hour and a half, and you bring me back a burger and fries."

"Two and I bring you back a salad."

"Donna…." Now I'm the one whining.

"Or I can leave at seven tonight. You choose."

"Fine. Two and you bring me back a salad and a milkshake."

"Fine. Now let me get back to work." With that she turns back to the computer and begins typing at an alarmingly high rate of speed.

Did I just win that conversation? Let's see. I got her to work late tonight, even though I don't really need her too, and I got a milkshake. She got a two-hour lunch tomorrow to go shopping. I also have to eat a salad and come up with something for us to work on tonight. But, she can't go out on a date with her new lotion and whiter teeth.

Yep, I won.