I was still trying to catch my breath, so when I heard him say that and tried to protest, all I could do was wheeze uselessly. Then, before I could move, a pair of strong hands wrapped themselves around my waist and pulled me to my feet.That night, I couldn't get to sleep. I kept turning it over and over in my mind.
Logically and rationally, I knew I had to do it. I was able to admit this to myself. I just couldn't accept having Mark be the one to pick me up.
What was so wrong with that? I kept asking myself. Earlier in the day when Beth suggested the idea, I'd almost asked her to be the one to help me out. Why was it okay for my supervisor, who I barely knew, but not Mark? Was it really because he was my partner, or was it just because he was a man?
The psych thing kept rearing its ugly head. I was smart enough to recognize my own control freak status, which I'd admitted to Mark yesterday (and not for the first time), but what if it were more than that?
I'm not particularly outgoing, as you already know, and I've only tried the dating scene on a few occasions. Inevitably, it starts out normally, but without realizing what I'm doing, I start taking over the relationship. Assuming the guy sticks around long enough, which happens only rarely, I completely dominate him in bed. Usually that's enough to drive anyone off, except for once, when my lover liked being the submissive one. The problem is, I don't like that in a man...so I broke off the relationship shortly after that.
So you see, I'm in a catch-22, which is probably why I'm still single.
Anyway, after a while, I just stopped dating, because it was too much to worry about. If I wanted to dominate, but didn't like a partner who wanted to be dominated, how the hell was I ever supposed to get anywhere?
I never really thought about why I was this way, though. Now I found myself wondering about it for the first time. Did I really just like to be in control, or was I secretly just afraid of being in someone's power? Or were those just two sides of the same coin?
Moreover, what did that have to do with Mark? Like I said, I'd kept my relationship with him professional, but why was that, anyway? Ever since Beth had mentioned he was cute, an image of his face had been bouncing around in the back of my mind. It was true, of course. He was handsome, with a classic square jaw and Roman nose, well-groomed dark hair, and a lean, fit body that I really should have noticed long before now. Or maybe I had, and just wouldn't admit it to myself because he was my partner.
Could it be that I liked him more than I let on? Was that why I didn't want him to see me shrunk?
I never got a chance to answer that question, because I fell asleep shortly after. That's the sort of place your mind takes you when you're trying to drift off for the night.
When I woke up, I barely remembered the thought, and when I did, I shook it off as ludicrous. Mark was my partner, and that was all. And there was no way I was going to let him pick me up!
On the way to work I stopped by the video store and dropped off the DVDs, and while I was there, I called to let Mark know I was on my way in for my shift. He said all right, that he would start recording, and hung up. That was all there was to the conversation, which was great as far as I was concerned.
At the casino, I ran into Heather, who seemed to be doing pretty well at delivering drinks and dodging patrons. Once she'd passed out the three glasses she was carrying, she paused to chat with me. "Hey, I rented that movie," I told her, sitting down so she wouldn't have to look up so far. "You know, the babysitter one."
"Really? Did you like it?" she asked.
"Yeah, it was pretty good," I told her, "but I don't get why you liked the idea of being shrunk so much. That poor girl was in constant danger."
"That's what made it so cool," Heather tried to explain. "It was like, everything you're used to, suddenly so huge and scary! The thought of stuff bein' so big, and me so tiny, just really turned me on. It still does!" She looked around at the casino, which to me was normal but to her seemed enormous. "Like now, for example. And I can't wait until tomorrow night!"
"Well, I think you must be crazy," I told her, laughing to let her know I was kidding.
"Yeah, I think I am," she admitted. "Hey, guess what! I let someone pick me up today! God, it was so cool!"
"You ARE crazy!" I affirmed. "Someone did that to me yesterday and I thought I was gonna scream!"
"I tell you, being this small makes me totally hot," said Heather, running her hands down her slim body provocatively. "I just wish they'd let us play around some. I wanted that guy today to start runnin' his hands all over me...those big, strong hands...mmm..."
At that, her attention seemed to drift. "Better control yourself," I suggested, snapping her back to the conversation. "You know they'll fire you if they catch you doing anything like that!"
"I know, I know," she replied in a disappointed voice. "Like I said, a girl can dream, can't she? I'd better get back t'work. Hey, wanna catch a movie tonight?"
"Sure," I replied, glad to not have to spend another evening sitting in my apartment. "What time?"
"Lori and I are gonna be at the Double R restaurant at six," she told me. "We'll decide then. Seeya there!"
"All right, catch you later," I said, standing back up.
As Heather hurried back to work, I went to the dressing room and got changed. I still couldn't understand what was so appealing to her about being shrunk. I guess we were just two different people, that's all.
I didn't see Beth as I made my way to the miniaturizer. I guess by now she figured I didn't need any supervision to find my way to my post. Of course, she was probably watching somewhere to make sure I actually showed up and tried quad orders like she'd told me to, but since I had no reason to actually talk to her, I didn't seek her out.
Once I'd been shrunk, I made my way out onto the floor and started my shift. After taking a few orders, I tried a quad and had no trouble with it at all. In fact, if there had been room on the tray, I probably could have taken more orders. That was just the way my mind operated, I guess. When I took an order, I just automatically took note of who it was, and where they were sitting. Finding them again afterwards was no problem, no matter how many other things I was thinking about.
Anyway, I was just finishing off a quad, about to deliver the final drink to a waiting customer, when I had my first real collision.
I came to an intersection between two rows of slot machines, and as usual, I hesitated, looking both ways to make sure no one was about to pass by. Just as I started to move again, someone came around the corner behind me, in a hurry to get somewhere. I had no warning that he was coming at all, so there's no way I could have avoided the situation.
I didn't even realize what had happened at first. One minute I was walking smoothly along, and the next, I was sprawling on the carpet, watching the tray and glass roll away in front of me. The impact and fall didn't hurt, really, they just sort of knocked the wind out of me. Above, I heard someone curse out loud, followed by a loud thump as they slammed up against the nearby slot machine.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" said a male voice above me. Whoever it was had plainly not been hurt, as he was more concerned with me than himself. Seeing me on the floor, he quickly added, "Here, let me help you up!"
I was still trying to catch my breath, so when I heard him say that and tried to protest, all I could do was wheeze uselessly. Then, before I could move, a pair of strong hands wrapped themselves around my waist and pulled me to my feet.
I staggered for a moment, still stunned from the collision and shocked by his powerful grip. I looked fearfully up at the man, who released me immediately. He was probably thirty years old, with long hair and a leather jacket, kind of reminding me of a rock star. The look on his face was completely apologetic. "I'm so sorry!" he repeated. "I should've been looking where I was going, especially in this place. My bad!"
"I-it's okay," I stammered, backing away from him by a couple of steps. He had picked me up! Like the old man the other day, he'd held me in his hands, as easily as if I'd been a toy. Damn, but that really freaked me out! "P-please, it's all right. I'll g-get the glass," I sputtered, doing everything I could to avoid fleeing, or worse than that, fainting. I must have looked and sounded completely idiotic.
"You sure?" he asked, still looking quite concerned. As he spoke, I noticed first one and then a second security man step into view behind him. "I really am sorry," he went on, oblivious to their presence. "I wish there were some way I could make it up to you."
"That's all right," I told him. Remembering what Beth had said about being cheerful, I forced myself to smile. "I'll be okay. Don't worry about it."
He stood up. It looked for a moment like he was going to say something else, maybe even hit on me, but then something made him turn. Upon seeing the two guards scowling at him, he made a hasty exit.
"Thanks anyway, guys," I said thinly, smiling weakly at the two men. As they left, I recovered the glass and tray, then headed back towards the bar to get a replacement. Someone else would be by shortly to vacuum up the drink from the liquid-repellent carpet.
This is crazy, I thought to myself. I've got to stop being so scared about being picked up! If I don't, I'll never be able to get through my time working here.
So, with great reluctance, I decided to do what Beth had suggested. I was going to let Mark help me get past this stupid fear.
Now all I had to do was actually go through with it.