Natalie looked at the coin on her wrist. “Three mornings in a row.”

“Life’s a bitch,” I said philosophically — or as close to it as I can manage, first thing in the A.M. “Two eggs, over easy, and dry toast for me,” I added helpfully.

She stuck her tongue out at me playfully. “Okay, okay! But don’t use up all the hot water!” Sliding sensuously out of bed, she pulled a scandalously short robe over her still-shorter baby doll, slid feet into slippers, and headed to the kitchen.

I took a minute before getting out of bed — I mean, the coin toss meant I had a couple to spare — to plan my day. We’d shipped most of a PowerPoint deck off to our clients for review two days ago and I was expecting their usual raft of comments, quibbles and queries by ten. Almost certainly no later than two. And, there were two other proposals Drake wanted me and my job-sharing partner to work up.

Time to get moving. With a sigh, I rolled out of bed and hit the shower. That done, I found a pair of khakis and a nondescript button-down shirt to wear. There weren’t any scheduled meetings or Zoomies with clients today, but you never knew what could come up. A navy-blue blazer hanging in the cubical I shared with the other Dave was available for emergencies, and fortunately it fit both of us well enough. We even left a tie in the pocket, just in case we were dealing with a stuffier sort of client.

The smells coming from Natalie’s tiny kitchen were amazing. Damn, can she cook! It wasn’t the first time I’d had that thought! When I joined her she was just setting the plates down at our little bistro table. I scooped her into my arms, sliding my hands up and down the sinfully silky effervescence of her robe and kissing her deeply. “I love you to pieces. You know that, right?”

She lay her head contentedly on my shoulder for a brief moment, her right hand resting lightly over my heart. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I do. Now, eat! Or you’ll be late!”

Breakfast was lovely, but Nats was right — I was running a bit late. So I ate with more speed than I liked, gave her a peck on the cheek (“more later, girl!”), grabbed my messenger bag and headed out the door. I knew she’d do the dishes and clean the kitchen before she grabbed her own shower. She is fastidious that way. Really, we both are.

Thoughts of Natalie filled my head as I fought the morning traffic, but once I got to the office I had to buckle down and get my head in the game. Turned out the lawyers had sent us their comments on the closing argument slides at 3:00 a.m., the little fiends, so I had to jump right on that as soon as my butt hit the supposedly ergonomic desk chair.

Drake stopped in around ten, looking frazzled. He’d been working on the proposals, which of course I hadn’t had time to touch. “How’s it coming, Dave?” He sounded anxious.

I shrugged. “I’m working through the text changes. They had a lot of comments. I mean, a lot. Mostly, they like the graphics, but about a quarter of those are going to need to be redone as well.”

Drake gave a grunt. “Naturally, they want all the changes yesterday. I know the other Dave is the graphics guru, but you’ll need to power through it.”

“That’s fine,” I assured him. Dave and I had promised Drake that we would make the job share work, and though we had different and complimentary strengths, we made sure we could each fill in for the other. It kept our lords and masters happy, especially since, with two part-time workers rather than one FTE, they weren’t required to pay benefits. God bless the gig economy.

I plunged back into work. Several times, I texted with the other Dave and sent drafts of graphics to get input. Not that Dave would be paid for any of that. But it was our job to make it work, and we did.

I skipped lunch. No time for that sort of nonsense— not with a deadline looming. Every minute was precious. I got all the revisions done by four, Drake reviewed everything and approved it, and we sent the revised deck to the lawyers by six sharp. Right on time.

I hadn’t moved from my “ergonomic” seat all farging day, my ass was on fire, my lower back ached, and I was mentally drained. But . . . the day was done. If I hustled, I’d be home in time for dinner and I’d have an hour with Natalie before she had to go off to her part-time job.

I wasn’t even through the front door when my twitching nose and active brain began to dissect the odors wafting from the kitchen. Crispy pork . . . oregano. . . garlic . . . rosemary . . . paprika . . . hmmmm!

Natalie greeted me with a sweet smile and a kiss, a frilly apron protecting her cocktail waitress’ uniform. “Hi, handsome! You made deadline?”

I nodded. “Just, but yeah. Had to skip lunch though — you know how it is.”

“Then let’s get you fed,” she said sympathetically. She pulled me into the kitchen — not that I resisted! — and we sat down to some incredible souvlaki, warm pita bread, and home-made tzatziki.

A shot-glass of wine was what we could afford, and all she could safely do before her shift. I raised my glass and gazed into her perfect eyes. “Yasou,” I murmured.

She clinked her glass to mine. “Yasou.”

This time she was running late, so I promised I would clean up to her satisfaction. She took a minute in front of the mirror to make sure that the seams of her long, black stockings were straight, every hair on her head was in place, and her make-up was just so. Her final check, I knew, was to ensure that the seams of her breast forms were invisible — the uniform displayed a lot of real estate — but she was a master at that. Another quick hug and an air-kiss and she was off.

As usual, she had washed all of the cookware she had used while she was preparing dinner, so there wasn’t really all that much for me to do. I took my time cleaning up, though, making sure that the kitchen was spotless before trying to zone out for a bit in front of the tube. But I was too mentally wiped to deal with all the choices I had to make on YouTube TV, so eventually I just gave up and rested my beautiful blue eyes.

It was after ten-thirty when I snored so loud that I woke myself up. Embarrassing, that! But Natalie wouldn’t be back before 12:30, and I had no juice left to wait up. I shuffled off to the bedroom, did my nightly ablutions, stripped down to my shorts, and crashed. I didn’t even wake up when Natalie got in.

The alarm sounded off at 7:30, startling me out of the sweetest of dreams. My love gave me a sleepy look. “You toss it.”

I reached across and grabbed our special coin, tossing it in the air, catching it in my right hand and slapping it on my wrist. “Tail,” I said, unable to keep the joy from my voice.

“Don’t sound so damned cheerful. Omlette. Whites only. Rye toast.”

I bent down and gave Dave a sympathetic kiss on the forehead. “It’s okay, love. I left everything in good shape for you. Are my breast forms in the bathroom?”

“Of course they are, Nats. I knew I’d never win the toss four days in a row!”

Author’s note: I was thinking of you when this came to me, Bru. With a smile, as always.

For information about my other stories, please check out my author's page.