“Slowly,” he said. “Take it off an inch at a time.” She did. Rick watched, unblinking.

Jesus, she was spectacular. Rick had no idea how Eddie had managed to record Melissa from enough angles with the X-ray video to make this holo without being noticed.

Melissa slid off her panties. Rick had to stop stroking himself for a moment. He was peaking too early.

“Now, come over to me.”

As he ran his fingers along the lines of her body he was careful not to let them sink past the holo’s surface. That would break up the pixels. Mostly he made her touch her own body. That looked very real.

 

On his way back from the restroom Rick caught a glimpse of Melissa darting into Overseas Distribution. Most days he saw her five or six times, today he hadn’t seen her at all. He wanted to see her in the flesh after last night. He got a drink from the water fountain, pretended to read the bulletin board. The moments stretched out; he felt a little strange hovering outside the door.

There she was. She turned in his direction. He would have been happier if she had turned in the other direction—he’d really only wanted to see her. His heart started to pound.

“Hey, Rick,” she said, smiling as she clicked toward him wearing high heels and a grey suit.

“Hi, Melissa.” He could feel himself turning red. An image of Melissa naked, on her knees, flashed through his mind. He pushed away the irrational conviction that she knew he had seen her naked. “You see Vandegrift’s memo?” he said, struggling to sound casual.

Melissa bit her lip. Jesus. “Yeah. I don’t think the policy change will affect our division much, but I hate the way they make these decisions without consulting us.”

“I know,” Rick said. If she noticed he was nervous, she didn’t let on. Of course, she’d probably assume it was lingering awkwardness from when she’d turned him down when he asked her out.

She shrugged her slender, jacketed shoulders. He saw them bare, lightly dusted with freckles. “Well, what can you do?” she said.

He shrugged, glanced down at her chest and back, lightning fast. “Not much.”

“Well, see ya,” she said. He watched her walk away.

Back in his cubicle Rick couldn’t get much work done—his thoughts kept drifting to things he could do with Melissa’s holo when he got home. Elaine, the tall, thin, Italian-looking woman from accounting interrupted his reverie, inviting him to lunch. He agreed to go, but said he had five minutes of work to finish up first. It would take that long to get to where he could walk around without drawing embarrassing attention.

 

“Okay, I got one,” Rick said over the music of another Madonna oldie.

Elaine took a swig of beer, slapped the mug down on the brass table, missing her coaster by six inches. “Shoot,” she said, looking at him with narrowed eyes.