I cleaned myself up and left the bathroom. I set the Saratoga’s down on my desk and had a seat. I was really enthralled by their length. I took out the pack of unopened Virginia Slims from my desk and set them next to the Saratoga’s. The pack of 120s looked even longer. I took an unlit Saratoga out of the pack and set it in the ashtray. I was about to open the pack of Virginia Slims so I could compare each cigarette, then remembered that this was the pack Staci had me keep as her back-up. I opened them up anyway, figuring I would just go buy a pack later. The Virginia Slim, which just that morning seemed so long and elegant, now seemed so stubby. Don’t get me wrong. I still liked the Virginia Slims. They still aroused me. It was that just next to the Saratoga’s they lost a little something. I lit the Virginia Slim and put the Saratoga back in the pack. I then clenched the freshly lit cigarette in my teeth as I took the Saratoga’s to the coffee table and retrieved my mug of coffee. As I puffed the Virginia Slim and drank the coffee at my desk I was reminded that I did like the taste of these more than the Saratoga’s I continued to smoke as I filled in the information as best I could on the Chamber of Commerce form. I then took out a blank piece of paper and starting drafting a flyer for the office. I wasn’t really sure of what to write, but tried my best. Half-way through a second Virginia Slim I realized I didn’t feel any negative effects. Admittedly, I wasn’t taking huge inhales, but I was inhaling every puff. By 11:45 I’d made an outline of a flyer I was somewhat happy with. I decided to have one last Virginia Slim before Staci got to the office. I tidied up the desk as I smoked. At certain points I would ‘catch’ myself smoking, forgetting I was doing it as I got busy doing other things. It’s hard to explain. It was like the smoking became the most natural thing to me. An after-thought, almost. Like it was what I should be doing as I worked at my desk. It was a very fleeting feeling, and went away as soon as I was aware of it. It did arouse me though when it came to me. While I was halfway through that cigarette I took it with me as I took a wastepaper basket around the office and emptied all the ashtrays in the office. I sat back down and finished off the last of my coffee as I smoked the rest of the Virginia Slim. I stubbed it out. As far as Staci would think, that was the butt she had put out in my ashtray yesterday. It was noon at this point, and Staci had not arrived. I cleaned out the coffee pot, as well as my mug and the cup Linda had used. Finally, at 12:15, Staci arrived. “Sorry I took so long,” she said as she shut the door behind her. “How did your meeting go?” I asked. “Great!” she said, “She was such a nice lady. And you should’ve seen her house.” “Yeah?” I smiled. “It was huge. And so nice. It’s gotta be at least 300 grand. I think she’s going to let me be the one to sell it for her.” “That’s wonderful,” I said. “And if it wasn’t for you honey,” she beamed, “I never would have met her.” “That’s not true,” I said, feeling I wasn’t that crucial in this matter, “She would’ve called back some other time and gotten a hold of you.” “Not necessarily,” she smiled as she reached in her purse. “Would you like me to make you some coffee?” I asked when I saw her pull out a pack of Virginia Slims. “That’s alright Honey,” she said as she struggled to extract a cigarette from the pack. She eventually had to tear the foil to get what I saw was the last cigarette from the pack. She crumpled up the pack and tossed it in the trash, then lit up her cigarette with her slim gold lighter. “So what’s been going on here?” She asked after exhaling. “Well,” I smiled, “Congratulations! You are now a member of the San Gabriel Chamber of Commerce!” “I am, am I?” “Well, almost. I need you to give me a check for $100 so I can send in your yearly dues. I hope that’s alright. I really think it will help out our- uh- your business.” “Of course it’s alright. I trust your judgment,” she said before another puff, “And it’s okay to say ‘our’ business.” I showed her the application to make sure everything was filled in right. She had me fill in the things I had left blank. I then told her about the Mixers and Weekly Chamber Breakfast, and how the different members would bring business cards and flyers to pass out to each other. I explained that Linda owned a print shop and would give her a good deal on printing up the flyers as well as any business cards she might need. I took the draft of the flyer out to show her. She came around behind me to look at it. She placed one hand on my shoulder and continued to smoke her cigarette with the other. At one point she exhaled in my face. “I’m sorry, Hon,” she said, waving her hand to clear the smoke. “I don’t mind,” I said sincerely. “You’re sweet,” she said, then kissed my cheek, “And I think your flyer is wonderful.” “If you’d like, I could take it over to the print shop later,” I said. “Sounds great,” she said, moving to the other side of my desk “Take one of my cards to and have her make up a thousand. I’m almost out.” I started to tell her about the Mixer Thursday night when she interrupted me. “I’m sorry, but before I forget, I have some clothes in my car I need you to take to the cleaners. You can do that when you go to the printers.” “No problem,” I said. I then told her about the mixer. She didn’t think too much of it, but liked the idea of me having Linda set out some flyers and business cards even if she didn’t go. She stubbed out her cigarette and turned to go into her office. “What are these?” she asked as she reached down to the coffee table. I didn’t see what she picked up until she turned around with the Saratoga’s in her hand. At first I felt like I had just been busted, then realized it really wasn’t that hard to explain. “Oh,” I said matter-of-factly, “Linda must’ve left those?” “Linda?” she asked teasingly, “Have you been having girlfriends over when I’m not here?” “No,” I said, “Linda’s the lady from the Chamber.” “Oh,” she said, still teasing, “You two are on a first name basis, huh?” “I guess,” I said, as Staci looked at the pack in her hand. “Your friend Linda smokes some really long ciggies,” she commented before tossing the Saratoga’s on my desk, “You can return them to her when you go to her shop.” Staci then walked into her office. She left the door open and I saw her take the pack of Virginia Slims from her desk. When I had taken a cigarette from that pack earlier there were only two left. I hope she wouldn’t figure out one was missing. She lit one up and started going through some papers. She chained the last cigarette from the pack, crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash. A few minutes later she came out with the half-smoked Virginia Slim and went to the restroom. Thinking of her smoking while going to the bathroom got me excited. I was knocked back to reality when the phone rang. It was a woman. I wasn’t sure how long Staci would be, so I took a message. When Staci got out of the restroom she asked who had called. “It was your lawyer,” I told her. “Sh*t,” she said, her mood instantly changing, “What did she want?” “Something about meeting with your husband’s lawyer,” I said, not enjoying having to give her news she didn’t seem to like. “Whose lawyer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. It took me a minute to figure out what she was getting at. “The ‘Asshole’s’ lawyer,” I finally said. That made her smile, but just a little. “That’s better,” she said. She then got her mug from under the Mr. Coffee and went to her office. This time she shut the door. Thirty seconds later the intercom on my phone beeped. “I’m sorry, Honey,” Staci said over the phone, “Could you bring me my back-up pack?” Now it was my turn to say “Sh*t,” to myself at least. “What?” I asked, trying to think of what to do. “The cigarettes I had you put in your desk yesterday,” she said before hanging up. I knew I shouldn’t have opened that pack. Had she really smoked four packs since yesterday? I couldn’t take her an open pack with three cigarettes missing. I wasn’t ready to let her know I’d been smoking. Especially now, while she seemed to be in such a bad mood. “Joey?” she called impatiently from behind the closed door. I got an idea. I picked up the Saratoga’s and went into her office. She was taking a sip from her mug. I wondered what she was drinking, because there wasn’t anymore coffee. “Here you go,” I said nonchalantly as I set the 120s down on her desk. “Not these,” she said curtly. “I just thought since they’re already open…..” I was struggling now, “….and they’re free-“ “Joey, I’m really not in the mood,” she snapped as she handed the pack back to me, “Just get me my damn cigarettes.” In the two years or so that I’d known her it was the first time she’d ever gotten mad at me. I actually felt like I was tearing up and fought the urge to cry as I turned around. I’d never seen her like this.” “Wait Joey,” she said, softening, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” My eyes were welling up, and I didn’t want to turn around. I just stood there. “You know what?” I could hear her trying to smile, “I’ll try one of those cigarettes.” I turned around, but kept my head down hoping she wouldn’t notice my eyes. I walked to her desk and held the Saratoga’s out to her. She stood up and lifted my chin with her soft hand. She noticed my eyes and I could sense how bad she felt. I felt so stupid for letting this get to me. “Oh, Honey,” she said, almost crying herself, “I’m so sorry. I’m not mad at you. I just hate dealing with all this divorce sh*t and it makes me so tense.” “I’m sorry, “I was so embarrassed, “I should’ve brought you the right cigarettes.” “Really honey,” she said with a smile while taking the pack from me, “It’s not the cigarettes. I’m just dreading this meeting with the Asshole and his lawyer, and I took it out on you.” “Are you sure? I can go get them.” I said, hoping she wouldn’t let me. “I’m sure,” she said, taking a 120 from the pack, “Actually, I’ve always wanted to try one of these long ciggies.” “Really?” I asked, knowing she was just saying it for my benefit. “Really,” she said, clenching it in her teeth and hamming it up while she posed, “What do you think?” “It’s really long,” I giggled as she clowned around with the Saratoga in her teeth. “Will you give me a light, Hon?” she asked as she handed me her glass lighter. I took it and clicked it to life. She leaned in and steadied my hand with hers as she puffed on the 120. She exhaled a thin stream into my face and smiled. I smiled back. “You really don’t mind when I do that?” she asked. “Do what?” “This,” she said, taking another drag and blowing it in my face. “Not at all,” I stammered. “You’re going to make some girl very happy one day,” she said as she sat down in her chair and paused, “Are you okay now?” “I’m embarrassed.” “Don’t be, Honey,” she said, then took a sip from her mug, “Really. I was just being stupid. Please forgive me.” “You don’t-” I started to object. “Please,” she interrupted, and then took a drag from the Saratoga, “And I won’t ever take my anger out on you again. I promise.” “Okay, “I finally said. “These aren’t too bad,” she said with a wink after taking a puff from the Saratoga. She then took a sip from her mug, “Here.” I thought she was going to hand me the Saratoga, but she handed me the mug instead.” “What is it?” I asked as I took it from her. “Just give it a try,” she said as she took another drag from the 120. I took a sip and handed it back to her. I guessed it was wine, and didn’t care for it too much. She must have realized that. “Not as good as a Margarita, huh?” she laughed. “No,” I said shaking my head, “Was that wine?” “Yep,” she smiled, “Just a little fortification for my phone call. Can I get you a glass?” “No thanks,” I said. “I didn’t so,” she laughed. “Well, you better make your call,” I said as turned to leave her office. “I guess so,” she sighed, “Thanks again, Honey.” She gave me a smile as I left her office and shut the door behind me. When I got to my desk I wrote a note for Staci letting her know I was going across the street real quick. I took some money from petty cash and left the note on my desk. Unlike the day before, there were some people in the market when I got there. The cashier was the same, however, and nobody was in line as I walked up to her. She looked around before saying in a soft voice, “Don’t tell me you’re out of cigarettes already?” “The lady I work for smokes a lot,” I said. “So they weren’t for you?” “Not all of them.” I smiled, “Could I get six more packs?” She smiled back at me, then noticed a man walking towards the check-stand. “Let me help Mike here first,” she said as she gave me a wink. “Sure,” I said, getting out of the way. They exchanged a little banter as she rung up his groceries. “Okay,” she said after Mike left, “Virginia Slims, right?” “Right,” I said, taking the money from my pocket. “Can I make a suggestion?” “Sure,” I said, thinking she was going to suggest that the lady I work for buy her own cigarettes. “It’s cheaper in the long run to buy a carton.” “Yeah?” I asked, “How many packs is that?” “Ten.” “Okay,” I said, thinking that made sense. As she went to get the carton from the display at the front of the store I realized I still had to replace Staci’s back-up pack. I couldn’t give her the carton with a missing pack. “Could I get one extra pack also?” I asked when she returned with the carton. “Virginia Slims too?” she asked with a smile. I nodded. “Wouldn’t you rather have Marlboros or something not so girly?” she hinted, thinking that this pack was for me. “No thanks,” I said, felling emboldened, “I like Virginia Slims.” “I do too, actually,” she said as she grabbed a pack and tossed it in a bag with the carton, “Matches?” she added. “No thanks,” I said as I handed her the money. “Where do you work, by the way?” she asked as she gave me my change and receipt. “Stuart Realty,” I said, “Across the street.” “You’re right,” she smiled, “Your boss does smoke a lot. She was coming in here almost every day buying at least three packs.” “Did you ever suggest that she get a carton?” I asked. “Yeah, but I think she was a new smoker. New smokers think they’re not real smokers when they only buy by the pack.” Now I was worried Staci would be mad that I had gotten her a carton. I didn’t want to make her angry again today. “I’m here Monday through Friday,” she said for some reason, “And it’s pretty quiet around here when we open at eight.” “Okay,” I said as I left the store. As I was walking back to the office while putting the extra pack in my pocket I got what the cashier was trying to tell me. She was letting me know that I could keep buying cigarettes from her, but it was best for me to do it when a lot of people weren’t there. When I got back to the office I noticed the note was where I had left it and I could hear Staci still on the phone. She wasn’t yelling, but her voice was raised. I placed the new pack in the drawer, and made sure the opened one was pushed to the back with my lighter. I sat at the desk and looked at the phone waiting for the little light that showed she was on line 1 went off. About five minutes later it did, and five minutes after that I knocked at the door carrying the carton of Virginia Slims. “Come in,” she said, her mood not sounding too good. When I opened the door she was at the little refrigerator pouring more wine into her mug. She had a freshly lit Saratoga clenched in her teeth. She looked sexy with that long cigarette in her mouth; however the orange filter just didn’t look right. To paraphrase what Linda had said to me earlier, an all-white cigarette suited Staci better. “I went out to get you more Virginia Slims,” I said as I walked towards the desk with the bag. “I didn’t even know you had left,” she said as she brought the mug to her desk, sat down and took a huge sip, “I was actually going to ask you to do that right now.” She actually didn’t seem as upset as before. Maybe the phone call wasn’t as bad as I had thought. I hoped that was the case, as I said sheepishly, “I hope it’s okay, but I bought a carton.” “You did?” she said before taking another huge sip followed by a drag off the 120. She seemed more surprised than angry. “The lady said it was cheaper that way,” I justified. “I suppose it is,” she smiled, then raised her mug as if making a toast, “See, you’re saving me money already.” She then took another gulp and stood up. She stumbled a little as she walked to the refrigerator and set her mug on it. Despite the stumble, she didn’t seem drunk though. I had seen her drunk plenty of times at home with Mom. “These are alright,” she said after taking a drag, “but could you give me a Virginia Slim, Honey?” “Sure,” I said, taking the carton out of the bag. She got the wine out and refilled her mug while I opened the carton and took a pack out. I set the carton down on the desk and opened the pack as expertly as I could. She sat back down at the desk as I took a Virginia Slim out and placed the pack by her ashtray. I almost thought about lighting it, but chickened out, handing it to her instead. “This time,” she said as she accepted the cigarette with a grin, “Put five packs in my purse and keep the rest in your desk.” She used the half-smoked Saratoga to light up her Virginia Slim as I put the five packs in her purse and started to take the others to my desk. “And take these,” she said as she held out the pack of Saratoga’s, “And get rid of this.” She was holding out the lit Saratoga as well. I wondered why she just didn’t put it out in the ashtray. “Sure,” I said, feeling myself getting hard. I took the pack and put it in the carton with the four remaining packs of Virginia Slims. Then I took the lit Saratoga from her. In the split second I had to decide, I chose to hold the 120 between my index and middle fingers like a real smoker instead of just holding it like a stick or something. I fought the urge to take a puff right there in front of her. The urge wasn’t because I was addicted, of course, but just the thrill to smoke in front of Staci. I decided to hold it off and just enjoy the build-up. So far, in just two days, the build-up was giving me lots of excitement. Starting with talking about cigarettes with Staci, then buying Virginia Slims for her, lighting them for her and having her blow smoke in my face. Then this morning I was smoking while talking on the phone with her. Now I was holding a lit cigarette in front of her. It was all progressing nicely, but still just a little too fast. Also, part of me wanted Staci to catch me smoking. I experienced the thrill of lighting up a cigarette out of the blue in front of a woman this morning, and it did turn me on. But I liked the idea of getting caught, too. Another scenario I played out in my mind was having Staci offering me a cigarette like she had done with the Margarita and wine. Either way, the anticipation of smoking with her was just as exciting as all the other stuff. As I turned to leave the office the phone rang. “Want me to get that?” I asked as I turned back towards her with my lit Saratoga. “That’s okay,” she said as she picked up the receiver and spoke into it,” Stuart Realty.” She listened, then put her hand over the mouth-piece and said to me, “It’s my lawyer again. Please shut the door when you leave.” I left the office and shut the door. I sat down at my desk and took a puff from the Saratoga. Unlike the other cigarettes I had smoked, this filter seemed warm. I took the four packs of Virginia Slims and the pack of Saratoga’s out of the carton and put them in the desk drawer with the others. I kept smoking the Saratoga, letting the ash grow long, while keeping an eye on the phone’s line 1 button. When the light went off about a minute later, I took one last drag and gently set the quarter-smoked cigarette, long ash and all, in the ashtray. Just as I finished exhaling, Staci’s office door opened.
