Played By Riggs

7

Monday arrived and my coffee did, too, on time. This therefore meant Tina was on top of things, and we could have a good, smooth day at work. I was sat at my desk, chewing on a bacon roll when she entered. She wore her usual. Black skirt and blouse, this time a pink one.

"Morning," she grinned. "How we feeling? Tired? Exhausted from too much steamy sex with Mr Branson?"

And there it was, just like I expected. My Mother and Tina had a lot in common, they liked to stick their noses in when it wasn't needed, especially when it involved a significant male.

I would have normally shot back with a witty remark about how I was only exhausted because I had spent all night online searching for a new assistant. She'd then fire back with something even more sardonic. So, this time, I was going to have a little bit of fun.

"Steamy isn't necessarily the correct word," I shrugged, shuffling the pieces of paper on my desk and then stapling them. "Unless, of course, you want to include the time we spent together in the shower..."

Her bag hit in the floor. Her jaw, also. She looked like a little kid on Christmas morning who had opened the big pink box to reveal a puppy. Eyes bright and full of excitement. This was fun. "Do not play with a woman's head on a Monday morning, Riggs."

"I'm not playing at all," I said, giving her another innocent shrug. "Honestly, you can ring him and ask him if you'd like. Although, we did make a promise to keep it on the low," I paused for a moment to let that settle in to her cute, hopeful mind. "Before you do, though, let me tell you. Aston Kutcher's ass in No Strings Attached? Well, he's got nothing on James."

"Holy crap!" Tina squealed. "Holy shit! Riggs, this is like...greater than that time you fired Naomi Hitch for snoozing past her break in the toilets. Tell me everything."

"What else is there to say?" I asked. "He rocked my world, Tina."

It happened slowly. The excitement soon faded off her face, as if the kid found out its parents were only renting the dog for a few weeks. A disgusted glare replaced her smile. The usual Tina expression.

With that shake of her head, she grabbed her bag back off the floor. "I quit," she said before walking out of my office.

I broke out into laughter. "He rocked it, Tina! Harder than that Adam Levine guy from Maroon 5 rocks yours!"

She re-entered, the shock still fresh on her face. She doesn't say anything for a while, but then an appalled groan escapes from her lips. "Do you know how sly that was? I really believed you. I honestly thought your drought had finished and you'd return to the happy-go-Riggs you once were."

Happy-go-riggs? It sounded like a slogan for condoms, or car mechanics. The nickname, Riggs, came about not long after I fired Naomi Hitch. My employees would joke about getting rigged by me. Watch out, she'll rigg you next! After that, it just sort of stuck, and now they all refer to me by it. Especially Tina. I think she was the master behind it, anyway.

"I'm not that bad," I frowned. I wasn't fazed by her words. Alright, perhaps I was a little. "I'm not in a drought. What do you even mean by that?"

"Sexually. Emotionally. I don't know, every sane element. You're lacking in all of them, especially the sexually department, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do."

"Well," she snorted, losing her serious face. She quickly regained it and shifted in her seat. "It's true. You're going through a drought and you're taking it out on everyone around you. I was hoping a quick pit stop with James would bring the old you back."