Any Way You Want Me - By Jamie Sobrato Page 0,3

stopping in her cubicle entrance, which was suddenly the place to see and be seen, apparently.

Drew, clad in a Santa hat, had been at Virtual Active for at least as long as Yasmine had, but unlike her, he’d taken some initiative. He’d moved from programmer to team leader to project manager, and while everyone liked to point out that Yasmine had the talent to do the same, she just didn’t feel the drive. He was a hard worker and a nice guy.

“What’s up?”

“Did I overhear you making a date with that Kyle guy for the holiday party?”

“What? Do you have my desk bugged or something?” Yasmine was conscious now that any number of her co-workers had probably witnessed her conversation with Kyle.

“No, I was in the next aisle. I couldn’t help but hear.”

“You and who else?”

“It’s not a crime to date a co-worker, you know.”

“I just don’t want everyone looking at me and whispering,” Yasmine said. She’d endured that as a teenager and vowed she’d never be the subject of any controversy big or small, again. It wasn’t the easiest vow to live with.

“Yeah, well, I can understand that. I’ll keep my lips sealed about the subject, if that helps.”

“Thanks, but I guess there’s no point. People will see me with Kyle at the party, regardless. But really, I’m only going so he won’t be the lone new guy.”

Drew flashed a doubtful look at her. “Speaking of dates, I’ve got one of my own for the party, and I was hoping maybe you could chat her up a little, give me your opinion on her.”

“Of course I will. Where’d you meet her?” Yasmine said, then tried hard to suppress a yawn. She’d been awakened last night by a heavy-breathing phone call that she’d quickly hung up on, but the bastard had called back again and again until she’d finally had to disconnect the phone.

He sighed. “Online dating service—and you know how all the previous matches have worked out.”

“Maybe this one will be better,” Yasmine said without sounding very convincing.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You know, I’ve got a friend I think would be perfect for you. She broke up with her last boyfriend recently, and I think she’s past the rebound phase now….”

“Is she hot?”

“She’s very hot. But, more important, she’s a good person.”

He shrugged. “Okay, so hook me up.”

“I’ll work on it, but in the meantime, I’ll definitely scope out the dating service girl for you Friday night.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you there,” he said, then wandered off.

Yasmine turned her attention back to the nightmare of a software patch she’d been working on all afternoon, but her brain had given up. This was nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week.

At the thought of the long, empty Christmas holiday coming up, her chest developed a dull ache. Her traitorous parents would be taking off for their annual trip to Paris, right in the middle of the holidays, leaving her orphaned at the one and only time of year she’d prefer not to be. They’d been going to Paris for Christmas ever since she was a little girl, but lately, tagging along had lost its appeal, and just once she’d like them to be more interested in spending the holiday with her than with their favorite city in Europe.

All her friends would be spending time with their families, and she’d be sitting home alone, watching Christmas specials on TV and feeling sorry for herself. Some friends had invited her to their holiday gatherings, but she’d politely refused, not wanting to crash their family traditions.

So here she was, a few days before the Christmas weekend, with her only holiday plans being the annual office party, and her only sure companionship a guy she’d just met—a guy she was entertaining using for sexual inspiration.

How sad was that? Yasmine hated how alone she’d felt lately. Alone and strangely vulnerable. She suspected the feelings had started with the odd phone calls she’d occasionally been getting late at night. Sometimes silence, sometimes heavy breathing, sometimes even moans that sounded disturbingly like a guy coming on the other end of the line.

She’d reported the calls to the phone company, but they’d said there was nothing they could do unless she wanted to change her number. She’d opted for waiting to see if the calls stopped. So far, no luck.

They did make her more worried about the sense she sometimes got that she was being watched. But really, that feeling had been with her ever since