sputtering, she's biting her lip, and I just stand there and shove my hands in my pockets and try not to look like I'm sneaking peeks over at red skirt's tits while she's turning around to put her bra back on.

"You two, in my office!" Sid finally explodes, his face like a grape. For a minute, I think he means me and Maureen, but he's waving his arms at Mr. Big and the "fuckslut,"

who turn tail and skulk off in that direction.

"You, get back to the hopper!" he yells, poking his finger into my chest. "And someone turn this machine back on! It's Valentine's Day! We're making candy here!"

So I get back to my post, where I've got to scrap the whole damned fourth batch due to my trip down to Text, and I don't see anyone again until I'm punching out for the day. The time clock's in the office, and I see Maureen sitting at her computer, chewing on her pen. I wave a little and she smiles and waves back, and we say goodnight, but she's flushed and there's no blood in my head because it's all rushing below my belt again.

Maybe being trapped in a candy-heart making factory ain't such a bad thing after all.

Especially on Valentine's Day.

Sleep Study

I never would have known I even I snored, let alone had some sort of sleep apnea issue, if Trish hadn't started sleeping over so often. Really, I didn't mind. The sex was pretty good, thanks to Viagra, and she didn't have too many annoying habits, aside from the yoga thing at six in the morning and the sound of crunching Grape-Nuts across the breakfast table. I guess I had to make concessions. Trish said it kept her at her fighting weight, which was altogether too accurate. Redheads. They were always spitfires.

Trish was the reason I was sitting in a pair of gray shorts on a cold metal table in a dimly lit room with a nurse kneeling in front of me. Really, I had a lot to thank her for, I reasoned, watching the blonde's head tilt back and forth as she attached little sticky circles all over my body. She was a tall, cool drink of water, that one, just a young thing, in her late twenties at the most-just the barest hint of crow's feet when she smiled, and what a smile!