*****
When McBridle returned, she seemed cheerful and fresh. “How was your day?” she inquired.
“It was interesting. Lankenbury is back from China. He left you a message,” Tom said, and handed it to her.
McBridle read the note, then folded it up, and slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll be working late tonight so would you like to have dinner with me?” she said, and hung up her coat.
“Dinner.” Tom seemed surprised.
“Yeah, I’m buying. You know I can afford it!”
“Well, then, I’d be delighted,” he replied with a distrusting voice.
“Good, I’m really enjoying your company.” She walked across the floor in front of him and sat on the edge of her desk with her legs crossed and showing a little more of her silky thigh. She was looking at him as if he were her boy-toy, and it was time to play “Mr. Feel Good.”
Tom tried not to notice that false love deep in her wanting eyes and appeared busy by packing the reports back into the strong boxes. He knew she was trouble. If he wasn’t careful, she would eventually lead to his sudden dismissal or to his untimely death.
McBridle leaned forward and grabbed Tom by his wrinkled shirt collar and pulled him closer to her moist lips. “I’m hungry; feed me well, ‘Mr. Love Gun,’” as she whispered provocatively in his ear and devoured his mouth.