The traffic around the food court was pretty heavy and the layout of the restroom was all wrong. The lower level proved to be buzz worthy of what I was looking for. Finishing off the last of my snack, I headed toward the down escalator. There was a bookstore, coffee stand and a luggage shop that gave a partial view of who went in and out of the men’s room. Not a lot of traffic between arrivals and departures, and the entryway provided plenty warning. Turning into the bookstore I caught glance of a familiar profile out the corner of my eye. Pretending not to notice that he had noticed, I turned my back and picked up an issue of Ethnic Cuisine. His wife or so I thought, was saying something about the time. Something about a delay and souvenirs. Business. Kids. Crowded. Love. Concert. Wonderful friend. A lot of cooing. She was definitely trying too hard! I stopped listening. Shortly after they went to the seating area where he left her engrossed in the pages of a book and headed toward. I felt the heat of her skin, the silky-softness of her. She had her phone in hand, typing rapidly with all the skill of a nineteen-year-old girl. She held up her phone and said, “Say cheese, Master!”I smiled as she snapped a picture of us., The flash momentarily dazed me.“Now to upload it to Instagram,” she muttered to herself. “Aaaaannnnd... Sent!”“Letting everyone know you're my slut?” I asked.She wiggled in my embrace and let out a purring sound of affirmation. “They all have to—”“What is going on here?” an angry voice snarled. “What is going on in the bathroom?”I groaned at the sound of President Brooks's reedy voice full of anger. He would burst in on us having sex. We were going to be in so much trouble. I really wished I could stop time, but my reserves were hardly full at all.How were we getting out of this?“Someone answer me?” he growled. “Are these comments on social media true? Is—”All the sounds died. I felt a strange energy rippling through the air. It didn't come from.
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