Miss Compass

Her husband left for a business trip for two weeks. She knocked. For salt. Or maybe not for salt.

The elevator stopped between floors. It's just the two of you. The dispatcher promised "about forty minutes." She pressed the button three times.

Your boss. Called you into her office after work. "We need to talk.

You met once at a bar a month ago. She found your address. She's standing at the door with wine.