The specter of truth kept her awake, tossing and turning.  Finally throwing in the towel, Roxy sat up in bed and decided it was time to get ready for work.  There was no sense in brooding but what the hell happened?  Was her grip on reality slipping?  Or rather, was her sex appeal losing its zing?  Although a week had passed, the incident still nagged at her conscience.<br/><br/>The looks of interest she received daily were like fuel to a fire, boosting her ego and adding an extra bounce to her step.  How did one guy’s actions have the power to put a damper on everything?  Granted, Boris acknowledged her by giving an appreciative keek at her tits but he still chose to leave and sit by Emily.  And he said he’d return.  To see Emily.  What the fuck was going on?<br/><br/>Clocking in at Blue’s, she made herself a cup of coffee and stood at the register, sipping the beverage.  Roxy watched the pink-haired woman who was busy putting pastries into the display case by the register.  Critically looking at her co-worker, she evaluated the entire package.  Emily’s legs were a bit long, but a lot of guys liked leggy girls.  She showed up to work wearing the weirdest outfits.  Like today for instance, who thought dressing in overalls was anything but sloppy and godawful ugly.  If wearing overalls wasn’t enough, clunky old Doc Martens with obnoxious rainbow-colored socks completed the ensemble (Roxy shuddered unconsciously, envisioning the socks had toes).<br/><br/>She mentally took stock of her own outfit; the usual tight black yoga pants, ivory lace thong, a thin almost sheer lavender camisole with a bralette, and sporty gym shoes.  If baristas weren’t required to wear closed-toed shoes, she’d wear dainty sandals showing off her slender feet with red-lacquered nails.  Male customers always gave her an admiring glance, wistfully eyeing the body part they liked the most.  Hell, she’d even caught some taking her picture with their phones.  But what did Boris see in Emily that was so special?  Roxy couldn’t remember the last time a guy turned her down when she gave them her ‘special treatment.’<br/><br/>For a hot second she considered pursuing Boris before batting the silly idea away.  Guys chased her, not the other way around.  Focus returning to Emily who was oblivious of the world around her, forehead creased and the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips.  She was creating a complicated tower of maple bars.  Roxy could not see Emily in any sexual context, conjuring a bedroom scene with her in a corset matching her pink hair, garters and fishnet stockings was almost too hilarious.  A flannel white nightgown with buttons all the way down the front seemed more her speed.  Sniffing disdainfully, the self-absorbed woman concluded Boris was a fluke.  Maybe he was intimidated by real women and preferred the simpering wallflower type.  Regardless, Roxy downed the last of her coffee and ran a hand through her silky hair.  There were more fish in the sea to catch and sample.