Free Casual (Sex) Friday (66 Faces) by Evie Kiels

Chapter One
     
    Ben let out a great sigh of relief. His work obligations for the week were over, and the weekend spread out before him pure and limitless. He told his computer to shut down and stretched his back and arms, trying to touch the ceiling. He looked around his desk and collected his netbook, several papers, and a three-inch-thick book on server load balancing then dumped the items unceremoniously into his gym bag. He stared for a few moments at the book, lifted it out of his bag, and placed it back on his desk.
    "Hey Ben." A light rap sounded on the wall of his cubicle.
    Ben inwardly groaned. He turned and gave Calvin a smile that he hoped passed for friendly but neutral. This was the twelfth week in a row Calvin had stopped by at the end of the Friday workday. When would he give up? They'd gone on one date—one. Ben had been bored to near tears and couldn't escape fast enough. It had been a disaster, and there was no way Calvin felt differently. Yet he came back every Friday at 5 p.m., like clockwork.
    "Calvin," Ben said amiably. It was the start of the weekend, for Pete's sake; why couldn't Calvin vacate the building as fast as possible like normal people? And speaking of normal, the dress code was casual , yet he kept wearing those frumpy khakis and too-large polo shirts. Ben suspected that Calvin was actually well-built under the folds of fabric, but it was impossible to know for sure.
    Calvin gave Ben a cocky smile. "Come get a drink with me." He was all confidence, as though there was no way Ben would say no. As though he was gifting Ben with the opportunity to listen to him drone on about the same things that every other self-respecting Seattleite claimed to enjoy. As though Ben hadn't said no eleven times before.
    Ben leaned back against his desk and affected an apologetic smile. "Sorry Calvin, can't."
    Calvin frowned. Damn Calvin, but that frown made Ben feel the same pang of guilt he had felt every week since their mediocre date. Calvin was tenacious, though, Ben had to give him that. But Ben would be just as tenacious in refusing—however many times it took for Calvin to get the message that Ben was not interested in any more dates. Calvin shrugged with an air of c'est la vie. "I'm going to keep asking."
    "I'll keep saying no." Guilt or no guilt, Ben was not subjecting himself to another evening with Calvin. No way, no how.
    Calvin straightened and flicked one of the origami bow ties pinned to Ben's cube wall. "One day you'll say yes." Calvin gave Ben another grin, a single wave, and walked away.
    Why couldn't Calvin at least ask him out on Mondays? Having to reject the guy every Friday made for a poor start to the weekend. Some weeks, Ben had almost been tempted to say yes just to avoid the guilt. And because he was lonely. He almost wanted to find out if it was possible to have a relationship with someone who wasn't a lying S.O.B.
    Maybe the first date was an anomaly, and the second date would be much more interesting. But why would a second date be any better than the first? That tedious evening of polite conversation about baseball, hiking, and how wonderful Seattle was. The same polite conversation that everyone seemed to cherish and repeat in lieu of what they really felt.
    No. No second dates with Calvin. Ben wasn't getting involved in another relationship only to find out it was all a lie. And during the only date they would ever go on, Calvin had shown all the signs of presenting a well-calculated facade.
    Ben hoisted his gym bag onto his shoulder and walked through the aisle between the cubes toward the elevator. He gave a casual wave to Mary, who was fighting with the fax machine, and called a quick good-bye across the cube wall to Claire. The rest of the floor appeared to be vacant.
    The elevator was a peculiar zone of inaction. Several other Friday stragglers stood there, silent, still, waiting. Ben wanted to be outside, moving, walking off the irritation that had gotten under his skin.