Russ Ware stared at the monitor on his desk. He hit control, alt, and delete, cursed, and hit the keys again. The logon and password did not immediately rush back to his memory. The sticky note containing the elusive information was a blob of black on yellow thanks to the nervous spill from his water bottle. He knew if he picked up the phone again and dialed the four digit extension to the help desk, he'd look like the idiot he was. Why in the hell had he come home? Three months in rehab and two years probation would have been easier than withstanding his father's disapproving glare or her irate voice purging the serenity of his office and assaulting his ears.

Nita Floyd didn't like him and Russ Ware understood why. Until he arrived back in his wonderful hometown, she was finally going to ascend to her long promised throne. The job he now held was meant for her. His office was decorated with a mix of classic and modern furniture she had selected for her home away from home. He could understand her bitterness, but it didn't mean she could waste five hours out of the day degrading him to Walter Yates. He had a mother and father, far more talented in the art of insults than one Nita Floyd. He heard her heels snagging the worn carpet in front of the old man's door as she stalked the path back to her desk.

"Ask Nita for assistance if you get confused about anything."

The sentence had been the only piece of practical advice his father offered outside of shedding his usual ungrateful asshat demeanor and use his brain. He studied the phone list and contemplated the call. Call the IT group and listen to them laugh at him over the line or face a black woman's wrath. He chastised himself for the borderline racist thought, but there was truth behind his closed minded logic. He had lived in New York City, Philadelphia, and Atlanta; he would rather be the punch line to a geek's joke than to suffer through a roll of her eyes.

She scared him shitless.

Russ picked up the receiver and pressed the numbers on the keypad. Her line buzzed and he couldn't make out the expletive passing from her lips when she read the screen of her phone. When her voice floated across the line he would have never known he was her least favorite person in the universe, "Nita Floyd, how may I assist you." Her tone was both sultry and sugary sweet. His heart began to pound and his mouth immediately went dry, "Hello, Mr. Ware, Mr. Ware."

He finally recovered from his sudden bout of speechlessness, "Could you come to my office Ms. Floyd." He did not intend to over emphasis the Ms. associated with her name or to inflect his voice when he established ownership of the office originally destined to belong to her. He did anticipate the attitude she sported when she graced his the threshold to the ten by fifteen foot space he occupied. He opened his mouth only to find himself stunned silent by her rebuke.

"Are you summoning me to your office like some broke down pre-reconstruction maid," Nita Floyd took two steps inside and quickly slammed the door, "I don't report to you...remember that..." She pointed her finger in his direction, "I will not think for you...remember that..." She moved closer, "I will not tarry before the Lord for you in the hopes that you won't look like the sniveling, snotting, spoiled brat you truly are," She placed her hands palms down on the surface of his desk and bent at the waist until she met him eye to eye, "I'm better than you...I'm smarter than you...I deserve this job more than you do."

All Russ could do was bob his head up and down like the idiot he was in response to her tirade. He tried to think of some eloquent phrase to erase the tension between them. Nothing came to mind. He would sound like a jerk if he shrugged his shoulders and said sorry. Nita Floyd wasn't like the majority of the women he encountered in his forty years on the earth. Everything she said was true. He didn't deserve to be here and he sure as hell couldn't hold a candle to her when it came to surviving the harsh world of Peachtree and Ware, "I forgot my login and password." He held up the soiled yellow paper for her eyes to see. He willed his hand to stop shaking while she studied the disaster between his fingers. He nearly pissed his pants when the corners of her mouth turned upwards and the cuteness that was her full cheeks graced her face. He finally remembered to breathe when her melodic voice ricocheted off his walls when she laughed.

"Clueless." Nita walked around the desk and pushed his chair out of the way and quickly went to work. For a moment he thought the storm was over as he watched her work. Her fingers glided across the keyboard with ease. Her body brushed against his momentarily and his nose received an invitation to indulge in the scent of her perfume. He knew the fragrance well, it was one of his favorites from Dolce & Gabbana, and he leaned in a little too close, the bulb of his nose connecting with her wrist, "What the..." The toe of her left pump nudged the edge of his chair and sent him sailing into the wall, "Not today white boy." He shook his head and broke free from the rose infused haze lingering in his nostrils. Within seconds she had his screen up and the necessary applications open and ready for use.

Nita stood to her full height and folded her arms across her chest, "Sink or swim on your own Mr. Ware." She made her way to the door and tossed her final words of advice over her shoulder, "Don't call me again."

Call him a glutton for punishment but Russell Ware Jr. was officially in lust.