Perhaps she just needed a little time to cool down. Hopefully.If his own insecurity hadn't fucked it up for him this time, it was his vanity. Vanity, in him. Five stone overweight, with the kind of body most people turned their noses up at, and the kind of personality that made him especially suited to working in the office, but made women walk away faster than they approached him. And now, the kind of stupid, insensitive, incompetent man who just couldn't own up to something that had happened a long time ago.No, not this time. He was always fairly sensitive. He knew the feeling of being hurt. Now, it was his turn to step up and be something he never really had to be before. A man.One attempt to call her. That was all he was going to make. If she didn't answer, he'd leave a message. He knew she wouldn't appreciate him being needy and unnecessarily desperate. After all, she didn't seem that kind of girl. "Hi. It's Andy," he casually stuttered into the voicemail. "I'm really sorry. .my dinner was good. Thank you," I stammered, my voicecracking, barely able to look at Angela.I look at my wife, I look to the table, to the ground.After too long of a pause, both women staring at me in silence, my wifebegan to engage Angela in small talk, asking about desert, reminiscingabout her time as a waitress while she was in college, about how tiredher feet would be after a long shift, about how lucky she was to have awonderful, loving man to massage her tired feet when she got home."Awww, that's sweet," Angela replies, both women once again focused onme.Silence breaks me out of my trance and I look up to both women staring atme. Oh my god, they both caught me staring at Angela's feet. What wouldAngela think if she knew what I was thinking?Humiliation mixes with lust, fear with desire. I don't know what to do,what to say, paralyzed. My face yet again flush from embarrassment.My wife then tells Angela we're OK and she can bring the check. My wifebeckons me with her finger as.
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