The dangers of gambling

I'd gone all day after that suggested bet...well, almost all day, before answering him. Somehow, I just could not laugh it off. Most times when someone made that kind of suggestion I knew full well they were in over their heads. With Stephen, I couldn't be sure. But then, that added the crucial element of risk, of danger, to the whole thing.

"So just what kind of wager were you considering, Darling?" I asked. To my enjoyment, he jumped when I spoke. He recovered quickly.

"Perhaps we'd better leave this discussion for another time? After work? We could meet at Dunn Brothers over by Davanni's Pizza say, around 7pm tonight?" Very quick recovery!
I thought it over briefly, realized I had no other commitments, and agreed. Why not? Why not indeed!

When I next glanced up fromt he ever expanding pile of paperwork I call a desk, the clock shocked me awake. 6:45 pm. I'd lost almost 2 hours buried in credit reports and insurance binders. A flicker of heat skittered through me at the thought of the discussion I hurried towards. I sent the usual e-mail letting everyone know I was out for the night, turned off my computer, and headed out to my car, and off to coffee and des liasons dangereuses, in the depths of a suburban coffeehouse. That thought alone had me chuckling.

I'd already settled in, sipping a cup of very strong, very dark coffee when Stephen arrived. I might have imagined it, but he seemed more at home outside the office...more....well, more male in the true sense of the word. Another sip of coffee cut that reaction short. I needed to think clearly now, not go running on a pheromone rush for this discussion.