Sniff

The lift pinged.
The doors slid open.
He stood there, coffee cup in hand.
She sauntered in, her bag in one hand and coat in the other.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”

“New perfume?” He was smiling.
“Maybe.” She was smiling too.
“It’s a little faint,” he said, still looking at the floor numbers.
“Funny. Every time I breathe, I get it,” she replied and took a deep, deep, meaningful breath.

Very slowly, he turned his head back. Stood stock still for a couple of seconds. And then cleared his throat.
“Ah. So its…”
“Yes,” she said, quite simply. Smiling.
“Well. You always did have a flair for…finding the right…niche.” He seemed to be struggling.
She bit her lip to stop from smiling even more broadly. “Really? We’re going to trade pseudo entendres?”
He grinned. “I’m trying not to be indiscreet.”
She grinned too. “Really? Why?”

His grin looked like it would split his face in half. “Good point. By the way, I’d really like to…take in the fragrance…you know?”
“Oh really? Here.” She popped the bottle out of her bag and presented it to him.

He smirked. Took it. And sprayed it on his chest. Her jaw dropped.
“There. We’re even now,” he said.
She started laughing. And the lift doors opened.

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