“I put this chair here for you,” Millie said. “I was hoping you’d get here on my lunch so we could at least sit and talk.”
“Sure it’s okay?’ Bill asked.
“Long as I’m on lunch. Be better if I closed this up and we went somewhere else. But this is okay too.”
Millie had her feet out of her slippers, sitting on top of them. She was barefoot today and Bill could see she still had the pink toenails. They were nicely done, pedicure for sure. He looked down at her bare feet, looked at them and looked at them such that Millie could see he was studying them. She moved her toes, rubbed the feet together, turned them and curled them so he could see the little wrinkles on her soles. Then she crossed her feet at the ankles and put the forward foot up sort of ballet style so the toes were bent and somewhat spread.
While she did this, she made sure Bill’s eyes met hers.
“Like feet?” she asked.
“You have pretty feet,” he said.
“I know. And I like you looking at them.”
Millie crossed her legs and took the foot not on the floor in her hands. She brought it up closer to Bill and rubbed it.
“Like feet?” she asked again.
“Pretty feet.”
“You can touch it if you want.”
“Another time,” Bill said.
With one hand, Millie opened the bottom buttons of her house dress so that it split some up her leg.
“You’re very skinny,” Bill said. “You have nice legs too.”
“And nice hands and fingers,” Millie said. She smiled at Bill, showed her dimples.
She left her foot alone, let it dangle, and put one hand in Bill’s lap so he could see her fingers. They were long, slim fingers with manicured nails painted pink.
“You like the pink?” she asked.
“I liked the purple too,” Bill said.
“Which one you like better?”
“Purple. And I wouldn’t mind seeing you in black and with black lips.”
“What I get for it?”
“What you want?”
Bill knew he shouldn’t have said it even before it was totally out of his mouth. But of course it was too late.
Millie had the answer all ready. A sly smile crossed her lips. “A nice kiss will do,” she said. She looked at her watch. “I still got twenty minutes. Come on with me.”
They got up from their chairs and she led him into a corner along the front wall and to the side of the counter. There was a row of uniforms there and she led him into the row behind the rack of clothes.
“I got your uniform here so when we go out, you carry it.”
“Okay,” Bill said.
“There’s a little room back there,” she said. She pointed way to the side along the side wall. “It’s my room. I do some ironing there sometimes, when it’s an urgency.”
“This an urgency?”
“No. We can kiss right here. No one can see us and I’m not due back yet.”
So there was the awkward moment. Bill had to kiss her because he was stupid in saying what he did, and she wanted to be kissed, but they faced each other hidden behind the row of uniforms on the rack not knowing quite how to go about it.
Finally, after they stood there a moment, maybe thirty seconds real time, Millie said, “You sure are one fine looking guy.” She leaned in and took Bill in her arms, reached up and kissed him, softly at first, gently, and then harder and deeper and longer, her tongue finding his so that it was much more than just a kiss.
While they kissed, she took his hand and led it between them up under her dress. There, she moved his fingers where she wanted them and how she wanted them.
“I got something to tell you,” she said. “Tomorrow when I see you. Something I want you to know.”
