Blog Comment: BANGBROS NETWORK about a month after I started, Deborah approached me and suggested that we go to lunch together, because she had something she wanted to discuss with me. This wasn't especially unusual; going out to lunch was routine at the office, and people usually went out in groups of two or three (it was necessary, of course, to leave at least one person to answer the phone). The prospect of a tete-a-tete with Deborah was simultaneously worrisome (I knew I hadn't seriously fucked up, but there was always the possibility that I was in for some criticism) and exciting (I was having lunch with an attractive woman, just like the man I knew I had it in me to be). At noon, we walked out together into the July sunshine, to her car (I rode to work with my Dad). Inside it was steaming, but, more than anything, I was struck by the smell: pure Deborah, a mixture of her perfume, with a faintly musky odor that I unconsciously recognized as sexy. She drove, confidently and efficiently, to a Mexican restaurant across town. Inside, it was dark and cool, and almost empty; we were led to a booth in the back, and left alone to look over the menus.
