Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) by Patrick Sanchez

Author:Patrick Sanchez
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-07-15T21:00:00+00:00

Pizza Pizza

Griffin pulled his Mercedes into the parking lot in front of Myers’ Books and Magazines. He climbed out of the car and sauntered into the store as if he owned the place, which he didn’t, but hell, he might as well have. He spent more time there than anyone else. He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he started there.

“Hi, Brenda,” he said to the small Asian woman behind the counter as he walked by and gave her ass a quick pinch.

“Hey, G-man,” she responded with a smile.

Griffin walked past her and headed into the back. He went straight to his office and closed the door. As soon as the door shut behind him, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor before reaching under his protruding belly and releasing the buckle on his pants. He kicked off his loafers, let them fling across the room, and slipped off his trousers. There was no need to remove his underwear—he wasn’t wearing any. He left his clothes on the floor (knowing Brenda would pick them up later) and walked toward his desk.

Enjoying the comfort and freedom of full nudity, except for the socks he kept on to keep his feet warm, Griffin grabbed some hoagie rolls from his desk drawer, split them open, and started layering it on—salami, ham, bologna, sweet peppers, mayonnaise (lots of mayonnaise), and a few slices of American cheese. It was up to Brenda to keep his refrigerator filled constantly, and if Griffin was ever low on cold cuts, condiments, or his other favorite junk food, she would catch hell. He poured a stack of Doritos on the plate next to the sandwiches, popped the top on a can of sparkling fruit punch, and flicked on the television and VCR that sat on one side of his wraparound desk. He managed to do all of this without having to get up from his chair. He had the room configured so the TV, refrigerator, and stash of junk food were all within arm’s length of the chair. He was about to dive into his sandwiches, when he decided he’d really rather have pizza—a nice deep-dish from Domino’s with everything. After all, he was The Big G. If he wanted pizza, he should get pizza.

Griffin pressed the buzzer on his intercom. “Brenda, can you order me a pizza?”

“Sure, G-man. The usual?”

“Yeah, make it two.”

“Okay, I’ll bring them in when they get here.”

Griffin was fumbling with some videotapes when the pizzas finally arrived. It only took thirty minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to Griffin. He hadn’t had anything to eat since the two Egg McMuffins he downed about three hours earlier and was famished. When Brenda brought them in, with the smell of mozzarella and yeasty dough permeating the room, it was all Griffin could do not to pounce on them right away.

“Mmm, smells delicious!” Griffin said like a puppy waiting for his food dish to be filled.

“Sure does,” Brenda said as she laid the pizzas on his desk and opened the lids.

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