where he was cussing.
"No! I'm not leaving! I'm making a phone call."
He brusquely grabbed his pants and equally brusquely pulled out his cellphone. He threw his pants back down on the chair. Neatness was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He pressed something on the device then put it up to his ear.
"Phil? It's Bob. (pause) Sorry to call so late, but I need to know: Did you run your numbers? (pause) So they are just what we expected. Good! (pause) No, I only got started on mine before I was rudely interrupted. They were coming out like we thought, but I only got about a quarter of the way through them. Listen, Phil, I can't make it to work tomorrow. (pause) Well, I have a problem, a headache, a major headache. (pause) Thanks. I'll be OK. Just tell the Old Man that everything looks good, and that I'll be in Monday with the whole thing. (pause) Thanks. See you Monday."
Bob pushed something else on the cellphone to terminate the call. Then he threw it down on top of the pants he had thrown down before making the call, and strode back to the edge of the bed.
"There's some aspirin in the medicine cabinet you can take for your headache." Sylvia sat up and suggested sympathetically.
"It won't help. My headache is not in my head. It's in the bed. It's you." he charged. "You told me you earned a comp day your supervisor has been after you to take. Can you take it tomorrow?"
"I guess so. There's nothing particular going on at work at the moment."
"Good! Then tomorrow you're taking it."
"Why?"
"Because tomorrow we're going to catch a flight to Vegas where we'll stand in front of some clown dressed in an Elvis costume and get married. That's why!"
Bob pulled off his shorts, pulled back the sheet on his side of the bed, slid in, reached over and pulled Silvia to him.
"Are you satisfied now, Miss Smarty Pants?"
"Since we're going to get married, it's Mrs. Smarty Pants." she corrected him. "And no, I'm not completely satisfied."
"Why?" Bob asked. "What else do you want?"
"It'd be nice to hear you say you love me." she answered.
"Oh yeah? Well, you seduced me to get me to marry you, so you're just going to have to seduce me again to get me to say that."
"That can be arranged." Sylvia cooed as she snuggled into his arms.
"And there's another thing, Mrs. Smarty Pants."
"What, Mr. Smarty Pants?
"On our fiftieth anniversary I'm going to call in our kids, our grandkids and our great-grandkids and tell all of them just how you seduced me into marrying you. That's what!"
"Tattletale!"
END
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends