Incognito

Caramel legs crossed at the knees. Thighs covered by a black skirt. Arms covered by a black blazer. The first and second buttons of her white, silk blouse were open. Her hair hung past her shoulders. She readjusted herself in the chair. Tucked her hair behind her ear. She was exquisite...breath-taking...perfect.

* * * * *

"Morning beautiful."

Startled, Sharon turned and glared at Ritchie who was standing so close she could feel his breath on her skin. Her eyes narrowed. Her right eyebrow was raised. Her face was like stone. She was not amused. The arrogance in his face annoyed her. She folded her arms across her chest, "Beautiful?" She asked dryly.

He grinned; brushed his long fingers through his hair. "The only woman in the world more beautiful than you is," his eyes scanned the room quickly, "her."

He pointed at the women seated in the front office. The mysterious beauty dressed in black and white, reading the latest copy of Real Estate Today. The one whom no one knew, but everyone noticed. Women whispered, men drooled, even Sharon had been watching her from across the room. She was beautiful. Flawless. "Go to Hell Ritchie."

"Been there already," he chuckled, "I was there for about...wait, how long were we married?"

"Gee, maybe I should re-marry you so you can go back," she snapped.

"Ouch." He buttoned his jacket, "I see you've had you're usual cup of bitch this morning."

Sharon rolled her eyes, cleared her throat. "And apparently you've had another healthy serving of jackass."

Ritchie laughed.

Sharon looked at the woman again. Searched for the first sign of a wrinkle, a pimple, any type of blemish. She found none.

"Don't be jealous." He straightened his tie. "You can't have everything."

"You know Ritchie, if you were as efficient as you are smug, your processors probably wouldn't fall behind every month."

"And if you were as fine as she is," he pointed at the woman again, "you would still warrant my attention." He left Sharon standing in the doorway. She watched him approach the woman, slowly, cautiously, the way lions approach their prey. He spoke in a deep voice, "Good Morning, I'm Ritchie Higgins. May I help you with something?"

Her hazel eyes gazed into his. Pink lips curled into a smile. "Good Morning," she replied, and introduced herself as, "Yancy Bateman."

"Yancy," he extended his hand to her. "What a beautiful name." Her skin was as soft as velvet. She was wearing an unfamiliar scent of perfume. It smelled sweet, almost as alluring as she was.

She watched as his gaze shift from her thighs, to the curves of her hips, over her stomach, to the fullness of her breast, finally to her eyes. She closed the magazine she was reading, and folded it in her lap and replied to his compliment with a dry, "Thank you."

He grinned, didn't bother being embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was hoping that you were Marquell Lewis, my new assistant." He looked around the room as if he gave a damn about whether Marquell had arrived or not. Ritchie's eyes raked her body again. He noticed that there was no ring on her left ring finger, and no ring line. "Unfortunately, you and I won't be working together, but maybe I can still be of some assistance. Which department are you working in?"

"Mine." Her voice came from behind Ritchie. She stepped in front of him, shook the woman's hand, "Sharon Bridges. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."