Weeks later Wilhelmina and Daniel are still at it, and Betty and Marc are the only other people who know.
"Marc," she barks.
He scampers into her office with his head down.
"Pack your bags," she demands.
"Where are we going?"
"Out of town."
"Ok," he agrees.
Hours later he joins her in a private plane. As the doors of the plane close he looks over at her. She stares out the window through wide rimmed sunglasses. "What?" she snarls without looking at him.
"Where are we going? Not that I'm complaining, or questioning your motives. I'm just curious."
"We're going to the beach for the weekend."
"Why am I going?"
"To be my chore-boy."
"Of course," he nods.
"Marc if you have something to say, then say it."
"Where are we going?"
She tosses him a sleeping mask, "I'll wake you when we get there."
"Willie, please."
"Don't be such a baby."
"Fine," he pulls on the mask and closes his eyes.
When he awakens he pulls off his mask and finds her staring down at him. "Are you going to stay on the plane?" she questions.
He jumps up and follows her off the plane. They get into a car that takes them to a nice beach-side resort. Wilhelmina tosses her suitcase in the room, and pulls on her sunglasses. Marc follows her out to the pool. She lays a towel over a chair, and takes a seat. He takes a seat at her feet.
"We came to Miami to sit by the pool?"
"It's warm here," she reminds him.
"Right," he nods.
"And I prefer a natural tan."
"Why are we here?"
"You're here to be my chore boy."
"And you?"
"I'm here on a two day vacation."
"Seriously? You don't take vacations."
"Marc go lay out somewhere," she demands as she kicks off her heels.
"Does this have to do with Daniel?"
She moves her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glares at him. "What?"
"Nothing," he looks away.
"What did you just say?"
"Something incredibly stupid," he admits.
"Why did you ask me that?"
"Betty told me."
"Of course she did. Who else knows?"
"No one," he answers.
"You're here to work. I'm going to need two hundred words on Miami by the time we leave."
"What about Miami?"
"Figure it out," Wilhelmina answers coldly.
"Talk to me," Marc begs.
"No."
"Why not? It's a private pool. There's no one else here."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Why not? Are things going badly?"
"Marc. I'm exhausted. I came to Miami to nap by the pool, and get a tan while doing it."
"You came to Miami to sleep?"
"Yes," she answers.
"Why?"
"Because I'm exhausted."
"You're Wilhelmina Slater, you're a robot, you don't require sleep."
"I need sleep, and I'm not going to get any in New York."
"So you haven't been sleeping?"
"When would I have time to sleep?"
"At night?"
"Wrong."
"You seem on edge why don't I get you a drink?"
"I don't want a drink, I just want a damn nap," she snaps.
"Sorry."
"I shouldn't take my frustration out on you."
"What are you frustrated about?"
"I've met my match," she admits.
"I don't understand."
"I'm sexed out," she answers.
"What does that mean?"
"I've spent the last few weeks having incredible sex, and I'm miserable."
"Why?"
"I'm completely exhausted."
"You can't be having that much sex. You work twelve hours a day."
"Daniel's there too."
"Is that where you've been going at lunch?"
"Between meetings, after work, before work, and even at work."
"So tell him that you've had enough."
"I can't," she admits.
"Why?"
"Because I want it just as much as he does."
"I find that hard to believe," he replies trying not to vomit.
"I can't be within a hundred yard radius of him without wanting to rip his clothes off."
"As happy as I am for you, I'd prefer not to know the details. It is Daniel and..."
"I know. That's the worst part. It's Daniel."
"So find someone else to meet your needs."
"I can't."
"Sure you can."
"You don't understand."
"You're absolutely right. I don't understand. You hate him why would you want to sleep with him?"
"That's the exciting part," she admits.
He doesn't say a word hoping she'll stop there. "The possibility that you might rip each other into tiny pieces."
Marc makes a gagging noise, "I shouldn't have asked," he admits.
"Can I have my nap now?" she questions.
"By all means," he agrees.
A/N: Having a little writer's block. Any suggestions?