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“Sarah, do you want a beer? Something stronger?” Tom, one of our consultants for our branch, shouted above the noise. He and my friend Esther, our receptionist, were getting our drink orders while we waited for our table in one of the side rooms to be ready. I hoped the wait wasn’t going to be too long. I was starving, and already craving a steak.
Most of us dreaded these bonding after-hours office dinners that were “strongly encouraged” once a quarter. Three of our consulting team members were still in Seattle for another couple of weeks, so they were the only ones who didn’t have to attend. Our suggestion that we switch to quarterly lunches was shot down every single time.
“No, thanks! Just a sweet tea!” I shouted back. I desperately needed the caffeine and sugar so I didn’t fall asleep. It had been a long day and this evening wasn’t shaping up to be much better.
“You sure?” Tom, whose flashy good looks had won over coworkers and clients alike since I’d known him, seemed disappointed that we couldn’t get sloshed together. While I could really use a margarita, I’d seen how handsy the guy got at last year’s office Christmas party. I’d need my wits about me.
“Positive!” I shouted cheerily.
Between sips of tea, I made small talk with Chris, our IT guy, who enthusiastically tried to convince me that I should go to the next Comic Con with him, because we’d have a blast. He was probably right, but there was no way I was dressing up like Slave Girl Princess Leia (or anything else). Not only did I not quite have the figure to pull it off, I was allergic to metal bikinis and nerds trying to get a peek inside at the goods.
As much as I enjoyed chatting with Chris, especially about our favorite sci-fi series, I hoped a great meal would be the highlight of an otherwise crappy day. I’d been lulled into a false sense of security by waking up five minutes before my alarm went off, feeling completely rested. Unfortunately, that didn’t last very long.
The problems began with my shower. The shower rod was nice enough to wait to loosen itself from the wall and whack me on the head just after I finished lathering my hair. Before I could untangle myself from the shower curtain’s vinyl grip and fix the tension for the rod again, oh, and turn off the faucet, all with my eyes squeezed shut, the showerhead had been turned just so, and water had drenched the floor. The water also had the misfortune of trying to drown my cat, Orlando, who had been hanging out on top of my towel and the bath mat. I sopped up the standing water with all of my towels, except for one. I used that one to swaddle a yowling Orlando. When I wiped the condensation off the bathroom mirror and saw how pitiful we both looked, I felt like yowling, too.
The morning continued to slide downhill with a skirt that fit two weeks ago, but not today. Oh, and then I ended up stuck behind a wreck on the interstate, which made me late to work. There, I dealt with grouchy managers, clients, and coworkers, all who made me even more grateful that today was Friday. I had a theory that maybe some of the others had also been defeated by a contrary tub/shower combination and a water-logged cat before work.
Actually, our growing anxiety was because our medical consulting company had been bought out several months ago by a larger one, Sealy Consulting, and our new regional vice president was coming to town. Normally, this would be stressful in and of itself, but rumors were swirling that our numbers at the Nashville office were down and that heads were going to roll, probably some or all the managers’.
In theory, my job was safe. After all, administrative assistants were always needed, even though we were pretty interchangeable. I didn’t want my boss, Rory, to get fired, and I certainly couldn’t afford to be let go in this economy, but things could always get worse. My biggest fear was that they’d leave me in my position, and send the other assistants to other departments in a weird restructuring maneuver. I’d end up working with all three managers, and trying to balance not only the workload, but the varying personalities and expectations that came with it. Nothing was set in concrete, so anything could happen. All I knew was that I was not going to be getting a raise any time soon, so I’d be keeping my weekend job waitressing for a while longer. At least the sports bar wasn’t far from my place, and the tips were pretty good. Plus, Mark, the manager, was a sweetie. I could definitely do worse, even though I hated smelling of beer and onion rings by the time I clocked out.
Our table was finally ready, so we played musical chairs until we situated ourselves. I was fortunate to sit in-between Esther and Rory. Plus, they couldn’t tell Star Wars and Star Trek apart to save their lives, also an added bonus. Esther was serene, always comfortable in her knit outfits and blonde rinses. I don’t think I’d ever seen her without her short hair styled and fluffed or understated cosmetics. Rory was pretty much Esther’s opposite: tall, angular features and figure, severe suits, dyed crimson hair in a blunt cut to her chin, pale skin and bright lipsticks. Tonight’s choice matched her hair. You’d think that Rory’s personality would also be severe, but she was actually a chatterbox and fell in love a million times a year. She also had a fantastic metabolism, although she insisted in the past that it was from all the exercise she enjoyed. She was obviously looking to burn some calories later on—I think she was checking out one of the servers. It wouldn’t surprise me if she managed to take him home later. Esther would be going home to her husband of thirty years, and I’d be going home to Orlando. Sigh.
The baskets of rolls were passed around the table, and it took everything in me not to moan out loud when I bit into that hot, soft roll smeared with butter. I happened to glance over at Tom, who was sitting on the other side of the table almost across from me, and he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Perv. He had been one of Rory’s conquests soon after he started, but she soon dumped him for the soulful guy selling birdhouses she met at the local farmer’s market.
We took a few minutes to scan our menus, and even though I already knew what I wanted, I used it as a prop to keep my face hidden from Tom. I only felt semi-safe sitting in-between my friends. Esther was completely focused on her menu. She muttered about whether she should get the surf and turf or just salmon.
I ordered the petite cut of the sirloin, with a side salad and the mashed sweet potatoes, and Esther settled on the salmon. Rory ended up ordering a spicy chicken dish that I wasn’t too keen to try. After the servers had taken all the orders, gathered menus and empty baskets, and promised to bring out more rolls and our drinks, I decided I had time to visit the restroom and freshen up a bit.
I took my handbag and told my friends I’d return in a few minutes. Surprisingly, neither one offered to go with me. I mean, I thought it was a rule that women had to go to the bathroom in herds.
After using the bathroom, I washed my hands and gave myself the critical once-over. Surprisingly, I looked pretty good under the lights above the sink. Usually my dark hair and eyes against my pale skin helped me look sallow in certain lighting. I reapplied my lipstick, and brushed my hair smooth again, before I headed back out.
I was trying to put my cosmetic bag back in my too-small purse as the restroom door swung shut behind me, so I didn’t see the guy coming out of the men’s room until I bumped into him.
He steadied me by grabbing my elbow. “You okay?”
My face was blood red. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I glanced up at the guy, and saw blond hair and pretty brown eyes. He was good looking, very clean cut, even if his tie was loosened and the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned. Then he smiled, showing dimples. I was hooked.
“I never mind a beautiful woman running into me.” Okay, maybe I wasn’t hooked. I’d heard enough pickup lines in my lifetime, and I wanted to scoff at the stranger. I was attractive, but nowhere near beautiful. He was a charmer, and I’d learned to be wary of those. “Are you okay?” he repeated.
Regardless of his intentions, he was solicitous, and I had been the one who hadn’t paid attention and bumped into him, so I decided to apologize instead of roll my eyes like I wanted to. “Yes...I was trying to fix my purse and I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so sorry.”
“I know how you can make it up to me.” There was Mr. Charmer again, only he was morphing into Mr. Cocky. Regardless, I’d had enough, and I had a work dinner to get back to.
“I just bet you do,” I told him coolly, stepping back from him.
“No. No that’s not what I mean...crap, I’m screwing this up.” He straightened, put his hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Trey. It’s very nice to meet you. I think you’re lovely, and I’d like a chance to know you better. You probably have dinner plans, since you’re in a restaurant, so I was wondering...may I ask you out for lunch, or dinner another night, or poetry readings?” He gave me puppy dog eyes. Oh, whatever, it was Friday night, and what did I have to lose? I couldn’t help but laugh and play along. I was right. Charming...and irresistible.
I shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Sarah. It’s nice to meet you, too. I do already have dinner plans since, as you pointed out, I’m in a restaurant, but I am a sucker for poetry readings and trips to Target.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“A poetry reading?”
“I’d really rather go to the store, if that’s okay with you, but we can track down a poetry slam or something.”
I nodded. “I’ve heard those poets can get a little crazy sometimes. Going to the store is a much better option. I’m almost out of toilet paper.”
His teeth gleamed when he smiled. I wondered what toothpaste or teeth whitener he used. “I could use some more shaving cream.”
I was actually having fun. “It’s a date.” I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. I was so lame. Almost as lame as mentioning I was almost out of toilet paper, even though I only had one roll left.
Trey seemed intrigued by me. Okay, amused. I’d take what I could get at this point.
“I think we should trade numbers. After all, we’ll need to coordinate our outfits and everything for our date,” I said, failing miserably at acting coy.
“That’s true,” Trey said. It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t agreeing with my mental assessment of my flirting abilities. “I’ll be wearing jeans and a shirt.”
“We must be psychically linked. How else could you know what I was going to wear?”
“I’m just that good,” he said.
After we exchanged phone numbers and commented how weird it was that no one else had come back to the restrooms on a busy Friday night, we said our goodbyes.
“Well, I should get going,” I said, even as my feet refused to move.
Trey rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, me, too. I’m so glad you ran into me, Sarah.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you’re glad. See you tomorrow?”
“I’m looking forward to it. Bye.” Then he did it. He kissed me on the cheek, and then his phone buzzed, and I took that as my escape. I waited until I was out of view and touched my cheek. I could have declared that I’d never wash my cheek again, but I like being clean, and besides, I was going to see him tomorrow. He really was going to need some more shaving cream, because his cheek was bristly. But I liked it.
By the time I got back to my group, the food had arrived. My untouched salad had been shoved closer to the middle of the table.
“We were about to send a search party,” Esther told me.
“Sorry about that. I was having trouble with my purse, you know, and...” I drifted off, hoping they wouldn’t ask me what exactly I had in my purse that was giving me fits. Neither Esther nor Rory seemed concerned with my explanation, so I ate part of my salad and then started on my steak, which was cooked perfectly, and still warm. As we ate, Esther and I (and an enthralled Tom) listened to Rory tell us about her hot love life, a topic I felt vaguely uncomfortable hearing under any circumstance, but especially here in the restaurant.
“So, Sarah, are you seeing anyone lately?” Rory asked.
I swallowed my bite of steak. “No, not really. But it’s funny you should ask. I just bumped into this guy when I came out of the restroom. His name is Trey, and he asked me out.”
“Well, that was quick! Is he cute?”
“Very. Blond hair, brown eyes, dimples,” I said dreamily.
“Ooh, sounds hot already.”
I hesitated on giving any more details to Rory. I already knew she’d grill me first thing Monday, so I tried a bland further description to avert her interest, however temporary. “He seemed really nice.”
“Serial killers always come across that way,” Rory told me. Her serious expression concerned me until she started laughing. “I’m just kidding! Sarah, you should have seen your face!”
I tried to laugh, too, but she made me realize that I met a complete stranger, gave him my phone number, and accepted being alone with him for a matter of hours tomorrow. Granted, it was just some shopping and probably lunch, but I’d make sure we didn’t veer into the kitchen or tool sections, for either sharp or blunt instruments.
My goodness, I needed something for the anxiety, preferably alcoholic, but even without the potential issue of Tom, it was still not a good idea. I was exhausted and I didn’t need to toss liquor into the mix, especially since I was driving home in a little while. I yawned, belatedly covering my mouth, as I got ready for the snooze fest that was about to take place. Most of the time, I focused on how the light reflected off of Matt’s balding head. He couldn’t help his lack of hair, and I couldn’t help staring at the shiny skin.
Matt, our head manager/director, was pretty nice, but not only did he enjoy giving mind-numbing pep talks, he was a strong believer in micromanaging his staff. When his assistant, Bill, went on vacation, I was usually the one asked to fill in for him. Christine, the third assistant, always gave me looks full of sympathy; she knew exactly how Matt behaved. He would make me nervous by standing behind me as I finished changes to his documents, all the while giving me suggestions how I could make the changes faster. If Bill had ever decided to extend his vacation, I would have tracked him down and dragged him back to the office. A person could only take so much.
I wondered if Matt was going to be let go. As I said, he was a nice guy, so maybe they’d move him to some obscure department or something. I wondered if Bill would go with him, or if he’d want to go into another division, possibly at another branch. Sealy Consulting had a reputation for promoting from within.
Matt stood up at the end of the table, calling for our attention. “Hey, everybody! I’m so glad everybody was able to come tonight. I hope everybody’s food was good!” Besides Matt’s apparent love of the word “everybody,” I don’t know why he cared about our dinners; the office wasn’t picking up the tab, another thing that made us all grumble, budget cuts or not. I mean, if you’re “encouraging” office dinners, you should foot the bill, since it’s for company morale. I’ve always thought how funny it is that the people in charge of the money never feel that way.
Matt continued talking. “Anyway, I have a bit of a surprise for all of you. I’d like to introduce you to our new VP over the southern region. He’ll be based out of our office. He’s not officially starting until Monday, but he graciously agreed to come to our little get-together. Let’s welcome Donald Mulgrew to the team!”
When the new guy shook Matt’s hand, I immediately choked on my tea, causing Esther to pat me on the back until I waved her away. Matt and the others were politely clapping as Trey, blinding smile ready, dimples in place, came into view. He glanced over the table’s occupants and did a double-take when he saw me hiding behind Esther, but his smile was wide.
Oh, no.
I wish I could tell you what he said beyond thanking Matt for the introduction and the invitation to meet us for dinner. He had been delayed and he had had numerous phone calls from Corporate, so he’d just be having dessert with us. After that, I just kind of blocked out whatever speech he was giving us. There was no way I could focus anymore on him or my dinner. I mean, I ate, but I couldn’t even taste the food anymore, which was a real shame because I rarely ever ate steak. I almost didn’t order dessert, but I figured I could use the chocolate. Maybe it would help combat a mild dose of heartbreak and humiliation.
“Sarah?” I realized Esther had been trying to talk to me.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Everything okay?”
“I think so. Did you hear me telling Rory that I met somebody tonight and he asked me out for dinner?”
“Yes?”
I gestured to Trey. “Well, there he is.”
“Donald Mulgrew asked you out?”
“Well, a guy named Trey asked me out, and we didn’t swap last names, but yeah.” I sighed. “I finally find a guy I like that’s interested, and it turns out that he’s my boss!”
There had never been a policy on coworkers dating, and there had been plenty of office romances over the years. A few of those involved Rory, and honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered to her if it was against policy. Couples were just supposed to let Human Resources know they were dating. Sometimes it worked out; sometimes the post-breakup was horrible for the couple and the entire office.
“Officially, I think they strongly discourage a boss and employee from pursuing any type of relationship,” Esther told me. I sensed a “but” in there.
“But...?” I prompted her.
“Look. You already met prior to knowledge of him being your boss. HR might still discourage the two of you from dating, but just file the same paperwork and hope for the best.”
I must not have looked convinced, because she smiled and patted me on the arm. “May this old gal give you some unofficial advice?”
Esther usually gave really good advice. “Please.”
“Go get him, honey. Life’s too short for regrets and I’m pretty sure you’ll regret this if you don’t at least try.” Esther sighed a little. “My, oh my, he is a handsome fellow. Reminds me of my husband when we were young.” Esther was only in her early fifties, but sometimes she acted like she had one foot in the grave.
“Thanks, Esther.”
“Anytime, Sarah.”
Trey learned all our names over dessert, and our departments. When he got to me, Esther nudged me. I had been in the process of lifting a piece of the chocolate fudge pie to my mouth, but I dropped the fork back on the plate. I looked at the chocolate gooeyness and felt sad, but it was for the best. I was not going to be stuck awkwardly chewing and swallowing my food while he and the others waited for an answer to whatever question he was going to ask.
“Quam? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that last name before.”
“It’s Norwegian.” I adjusted my glasses, as I waited for the inevitable comment. I was dark-haired and brown-eyed after my Portuguese grandmother. The pale skin, that was definitely Norwegian.
“That explains the blonde hair and blue eyes,” he teased.
“I get that a lot, Mr. Mulgrew.”
“Please call me Trey. I’m the third Donald Mulgrew, and I plan on being the last. Anyway, I enjoyed meeting you earlier, Sarah, and I look forward to working with you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I did not mistake the way his eyes darkened when I said “sir.” Interesting.
Apparently Trey believed in full disclosure, especially when it came to people noticing the fact that we’d met earlier, so he got straight to the point. “If you can believe it, Sarah and I met earlier outside the restrooms, only we had no idea who each other were. It must have been fate.” He winked, as everybody stared at him, and then me.
Rory jabbed me in the ribs. “Ooh, a forbidden romance. Even better. That’s so much fun.” I really hoped she wouldn’t over share now. Rory continued, “It’s a good thing he said something, Sarah, otherwise I would have gone after him. That would have been awkward, huh?”
About as awkward as this conversation. “Yeah,” I said weakly. “Awkward.”
Thankfully, Rory started complaining about her strange next door neighbor at her apartment complex. She was pretty sure he was a scientist or something, who rambled a lot about the government oppressing people, but he was so not her type. She just tuned him out most of the time because he was always doing weird science experiments and must be growing a bunch of pot or something from all the fertilizer he kept bringing into the apartment. I unkindly wondered for the umpteenth time how Rory had become a manager, let alone how she hadn’t died in a horrible explosion by now. I suggested to Rory that a phone call to the police, or even Homeland Security, wouldn’t be remiss. I mean, you never knew. At the very least, maybe the guy was pursuing his favorite hobbies: tending an indoor vegetable garden and cooking meth. The last one wasn’t just for trailers and dumpy houses anymore.
When time came for the servers to bring out the bills, Trey said as a thank you for all of our hard work, that the company was paying for everyone’s dinner and dessert. He also said how much he enjoyed meeting all of us and thanked us for letting him crash the dinner. Was he crazy? He just won over everybody in that office. It was nice to be appreciated.
Our group said our thanks and our goodbyes before we all headed out of the restaurant around the building towards the overflow parking lot in the back. Trey loitered behind with Matt, and caught my eye. He wanted me to wait, too. I could do that. Matt looked like he wasn’t going to stop talking any time soon, and I thought I’d have to head home and see Trey tomorrow.
I messed with my phone, then pretended to search my purse for lipstick, pens, hand sanitizer, anything. Finally Matt shut up, and looking over, saw me. “Oh, Sarah, did you want me to walk you to your car?”
Trey answered for me. “Don’t worry, Matt, I know you’ve got to get home to that wife and baby of yours. I’ll make sure Sarah gets to her car safely.” We waved Matt off as he got in his car and drove away. Then my new boss and I looked at each other.
Trey led me back towards the rear of the building. “I promise I didn’t know who you were when we met earlier, Sarah. Not that it would have changed anything,” he insisted. “I won’t pressure you into this. If you aren’t interested in any way, I’ll be disappointed, but I promise everything will be fine. I really am a nice guy, and I’ve never, ever hit on an employee before now, and you’re so pretty and funny, and I hate that we might not even get to see if this could go anywhere.”
His earnest expression as he rambled was sweet, but I had to voice my concern. “I just worry about people talking.” I knew how they were at the office. Boredom equaled gossipy coworkers. I really wasn’t looking forward to trying to evade Rory’s intrusive questions in a couple of days.
Trey nodded. “I understand. I’m the same way. But there’s something between us. You feel it too, don’t you?”
Sparks. Tingles. I felt a lot of stuff with Trey in the past couple of hours. “I do. Well, I guess we’re going to have to fill out some paperwork to let them know we’re dating. Unless...are we dating?”
Relief showed in Trey’s features. “Yeah, I guess we are. That phone call I got just before you left? That was my dad. I told him I’d met this wonderful girl and we were going out tomorrow to get bathroom products, which made him laugh. If he’s okay with the work aspect, which, he will be, everybody else will be, too.”
At my quizzical look, he laughed. “I forgot. My dad is actually my stepdad—Richard Sealy—you know, Sealy Consulting that just purchased your company? Yeah, I’d say we’re good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been dying to do this since you ran into me. You have no idea how much I wanted to push you up against the wall inside and kiss the fire out of you.”
He bent his head towards mine. Crap, my glasses started fogging up. He smiled. “May I?”
At my nod, he gently removed my glasses and stuck them in his inside jacket pocket. I blinked several times, glad he was so close, and reminded myself to suck up the courage to have laser eye surgery in the near distant future. I was attractive and knew how to play up my attributes, but wow. He was really handsome. An insecure part of me that I always beat into submission wondered what in the world he was doing with me. The confident part of me knew he was lucky to have me after his stupid pickup lines.
“Now, where were we?” Trey murmured. My mouth was too dry to answer. “Oh, yeah,” he said. He brushed his mouth against mine. His lips were feather-soft at first, and then they became more insistent. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. My heart was racing. So was his; I could feel his frantic beats.
He slowly drew away from me, and I let my arms slide back down to my sides. “So, is ten okay for me to pick you up to go shopping?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, suddenly shy. “That’d be great.”
“Great. Oh, you might need these,” Trey told me, as he pulled my glasses out of his pocket and placed them back on my face. I fixed them properly behind my ears so that my hair wasn’t caught in the stems.
“Ever think of contacts?” he asked.
“My eyes ended up being too dry. I’m considering laser surgery, if I qualify.”
“I had mine done two years ago.”
“Really?” I bet he looked all hot with his glasses on.
“The doctor said I may need them again as I get older, but I’m enjoying not being blind first thing in the morning. Most of the time I forget I ever had them, and believe me, I was really nearsighted.”
“Mine’s not that serious. I just don’t know if I want surgery.”
“It wasn’t too bad. I couldn’t see right away, but after a couple of days, it was incredible.”
“So you don’t have a problem dating a girl with glasses?”
“Uh, no. Have you never heard of guys having a sexy librarian or teacher fantasy?”
“Sexy secretary?” I offered.
He smiled. “Yeah. They all pretty much involve glasses.”
“And high heels?”
“Definitely high heels.”
“Really?”
“You know, maybe we should find out what everybody’s been talking about.”
I laughed, and patted his cheek. “We’ll see. Hey, I’d better get going. I have a date tomorrow morning with a guy who needs my address.”
Trey looked sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”
I gave him directions as he walked me to my car. He leaned in and kissed me before shutting me inside. I waited until he got in his car, and we both drove off. I glanced in the rearview mirror. My mouth was swollen, the lipstick long gone, but I looked really, really happy.
I couldn’t wait until I got home to call my best friend. I put my phone on speaker and called Beth.
“Hello?” Beth sniffled at the end of her greeting.
“For goodness’ sake, Beth, what’s wrong?”
“I’m exhausted! You would be, too, if you were chasing after twin boys all day long, who refuse to nap, and now refuse to go to bed!”
I loved Josh and Jake, but they were in the midst of the “horrible three’s”, and the twins were a handful on a good day. They might look angelic with Beth’s wide blue eyes and blond curls, but I fully expected for their heads to start spinning around one day. Or Beth’s. She lived for Mother’s Day Out twice a week.
“Do you need me to stop by tonight?”
“Thanks, but Sam’s taking over now. I’m hiding out in the pantry.”
“Why?”
“Well, it has cookies. My bedroom closet doesn’t. I don’t think. So, what’s up, buttercup?”
I gave her the rundown on what had happened inside and outside the restaurant.
“Wow.” Beth was not easily impressed when it came to guys I’d dated in the past.
“Exactly.”
“You realize I have to live vicariously through you now, right?” she asked, envy coloring her tone.
“My life’s not that exciting. Besides, you’re the one with the family. At least your mother’s not nagging you about finding a decent man and bearing his spawn. You’ve got that taken care of!”
“Right. Because life is just one big checklist.”
“Sometimes it feels that way,” I said wistfully.
“Tell me about it.”
We both sighed. This was why we were best friends.
“So, are you going to see him again?” Beth asked.
I couldn’t help being snarky. “Monday through Friday, at least when he’s in town. And tomorrow.”
“Only you would have a date to Target, Sarah. Bring him by sometime, even if the twins have managed to blow up the fireplace, so I can meet your fellow.”
“My fellow?”
“Fine. Your lover. Better?”
“Whatever.”
“You’re lucky, you know. I can’t tell you the last time Sam and I just had some fun alone time.”
“Oh, Beth! Have you talked to Sam about this?”
“He’s frustrated, too. You know what we did when his parents kept the boys for our anniversary? We slept. All night long. You can laugh. It’s okay.”
We both giggled. “It’ll get better, hon,” I told her.
“I know. Oh, well, I guess I’ll just enjoy those smutty books everybody’s been reading.”
“Gotta love book club.”
“Yes, I do. Hey, you ought to come by sometime. Our next one is this coming Thursday.”
“Can’t. Mom and Dad are supposed to be in town. We’re going out to dinner to catch up. You know they’re going to freak out that I’m dating my boss.”
“They freak out over everything. You’d think you’d be used to it by now. This is the problem with being an only child. You don’t have a sibling they can focus on, too. Besides, if your parents wanted to have more say in your life, they shouldn’t be traveling around the country in their camper. Oh, crap, Sam and the boys found me! Gotta go. Bye.” Beth was going to have to find a new hiding place with available snacks.
I thought about Beth’s comments as I drove the rest of the way home. My parents were having the time of their lives seeing the U.S., and I wondered if they would next decide to drive on down to South America. It really wouldn’t surprise me. If my father could somehow drive the camper to Europe or Australia, I’d never see them again.
When I talked to them yesterday morning, they were leaving Oklahoma City, and planning on stopping around Little Rock for the night. I expected them back in Nashville any time, unless they decided to hit a few more tourist traps along the way.
I cringed at the thought of the souvenirs I would probably get, but it really was sweet of them to think of me. Mom had suggested several times that I should come road tripping with them during my vacation time, but I nixed that. I have nothing against campers, but three adults in a confined space with two of them arguing and giving the third unwanted advice was not my idea of fun.
Orlando was waiting for me at the door, meowing and swishing his now-dry tail. He’d looked like a patchwork drowned rat this morning before his necessary blow dry, but his fur was now quite sleek from his constant grooming, so I was certain cleaning up hairballs was in my future. For the umpteenth time, I reminded myself that it had been love at first sight for both of us when Orlando had been abandoned as an older kitten just outside my office building three weeks after I started working there.
“I know, I know. I’m a horrible human mommy.” I deadbolted the door, tossed my purse in the recliner, and managed to get to the kitchen and turn on the lights without tripping over the feline weaving in and out between my ankles. I fed him and gave him fresh water, then got a glass of water for myself.
The water made me remember the sodden towels I’d washed this morning. I loaded those suckers in the dryer and decided I wasn’t going to stay up to wait for them to finish and empty the lint trap.
I finally made my way back to my bedroom, put on my pajamas, and then managed to brush my teeth and use the bathroom before crawling into bed. I was so tired, I hardly even scolded Orlando when he jumped onto the bed and snuggled up next to me. “It’s a good thing you’re cute,” I told him, “after the stunt you pulled this morning with your claws.” He just purred, kneaded said claws into my pajama top, and stared at me with those yellow eyes of his. That intense stare reminded me of Trey just before he kissed me in the parking lot, but I was too exhausted to do much more than turn off my lamp and fall asleep.
* * *
I WOKE UP THE NEXT morning unable to breathe very well. I quickly realized why. Orlando had his front leg stretched out across my throat, his paw touching my other cheek. He may have been an average-sized cat, but he was dead weight when he was fast asleep. I finally released myself from his stranglehold and saw that it was after eight on my alarm clock. I so wanted to go back to sleep, but I had a romance to start living.
I got Orlando his breakfast; he tore through the apartment as soon as the cat food hit the bowl. Then I fixed myself some coffee – two sugars, dollop of milk—and ate a bowl of instant oatmeal, heaped with brown sugar. Still not awake despite my caffeine and sugar intake, I dragged myself to the shower, and then remembering what happened to all my towels, emptied them out of the dryer, all wrinkled, and quickly folded them. Once I stepped in the shower, the shower curtain rod stayed in place, and I finished without my eyes burning from soap and shampoo. Wrapped in a towel and all squeaky clean, I did my skin care routine, put on some light makeup, and decided on a nice tee shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes.
Did I go with my sexy lingerie under that ensemble, so I’d feel sexy, regardless that I’d be completely covered up? Uh, no. Cotton underwear and simple bra with no underwire. Comfort was key today. I had the sexy bra on last night, and the stupid wire had started poking me under my arm.
Maybe if things worked out in a forever kind of way, he’d get to see my extensive collection, both sexy and sensible. We’d see. I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep him.
I had to laugh at myself. If I had any choice in the matter, of course I was going to keep him. Trey was one of those one-of-a-kind fellows. Besides his cockiness, he was generous to employees, charming, and funny, all wrapped up in a handsome package. I believed he was a good man, and until I had evidence showing otherwise, I was going with that belief.
I glanced at the clock and panicked. Trey would be here in half an hour and my hair was still damp, the bed wasn’t made, and I needed to tidy up a bit. Saturday mornings were usually my cleaning days, so I’d just work around that. I had to waitress tonight and tomorrow afternoon, so I’d just hit the high spots and have to be satisfied.
I dried my hair, made the bed, and tidied everything before my doorbell rang. Trey was just a few minutes early, but that was more than okay with me. I’d missed him since last night.
It wasn’t a big deal, right, that I missed him?
I opened the door and laughed when I saw Trey. He’d coordinated, like he said. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, but he’d gone with Docs for his shoes.
“We match! Well, kind of,” I said. My shirt was a crisp navy; his was an old tee shirt with the name of a band I’d never heard of. “Hi, Trey.”
Trey stepped up to me, a smile on his face. “Hi, beautiful girl.” He kissed my lips. I tried not to swoon. “I missed you.” See? Not a big deal.
I beamed back at him. “Me, too. Come in!” I led the way into the apartment. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a tour?”
I turned back to look at him, but he tugged my arm and pulled me to him. “No, I’m not thirsty,” he said. “And as much as I’d like a tour, if we’re going, we’ve got to go now. Otherwise, we might never leave.”
I swallowed. “Let me get my purse, and we can get going. I really do need more toilet paper.” Wow, that was sexy.
At that point, Orlando decided to check Trey out. “This is Orlando,” I told Trey, whose shoes were being face-rubbed by my cat. “You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” If so, we’d have to pick up some more Benadryl at the store. I was almost out.
He leaned down and let Orlando sniff his hand, before he scratched behind Orlando’s ears. “No. I had cats, dogs, turtles—you name it—growing up. Hey, buddy, do you take good care of your mommy?” Trey moved to scratch under Orlando’s chin. Orlando started purring like crazy.
“Well, this little bromance is cute and all—would you like me to leave you two alone?”
“She’s just jealous, Orlando,” he said, scratching Orlando one more time before standing up. “Let me just wash my hands and we can go.” I directed him to the bathroom, and after he was through, I grabbed my purse and we headed out.
I couldn’t see Trey’s car very well in the dark last night, but it seemed nice. In the daytime, it was beautiful. I liked the sedan’s dark red exterior, but for some reason, Trey seemed more like an SUV-type guy.
He opened the passenger door for me, and I enjoyed sliding into the leather seat. “Is this a rental?” I asked, as we buckled our seat belts and he started the car.
Trey grimaced. “Unfortunately, no. This is all mine, at least until I can trade it in.”
“It doesn’t look like a lemon.” It was a Lexus, for goodness’ sake. I’d always wanted one.
“No, it’s a great car. It just wasn’t my choice.”
“Okay, Trey, there’s obviously a story here. Spill it,” I teased.
“I will, but which way to the store?”
“It’s actually in the same shopping center as the restaurant we were in last night. Can you remember how to get there?”
“Yeah, but I really should get one of those map things for the car, I guess. Maybe we can look and see what they’ve got at the store, although I’ve always preferred paper maps for when I travel. It just reminds me of when I was a kid, you know...”
“Trey?” I asked sweetly.
“Yes?”
“You’re stalling.”
“My fiancée picked it out.”
“WHAT? Your—your fiancée?” I sputtered. I was so not expecting this.
“I’m sorry. My ex-fiancée. She called it off four months ago.”
“Oh.” This changed things, especially with what happened between us last night. I felt sick at my stomach.
I was silent for a few moments while I tried to focus on this bombshell, or at least the second part of the bombshell. My brain was having a hard time keeping up.
“I wasn’t cheating, if that’s what you’re wondering. She said she didn’t love me anymore.”
I’d been there, with one of my ex-boyfriends. I could only imagine what it must have been like with someone you were planning on spending the rest of your life with. “I’m sorry, Trey.” I was hesitant with my next question. “Do you still love her?”
“I think Kyra ended up being different from the woman I fell in love with all those years ago.” I noticed he evaded the question. That didn’t help.
“How long were you together?”
“Since business school. I was working for my dad and going part-time. Kyra was going full-time.”
“Wait—how old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“So you dated for how many years?”
“Six. We were engaged for two. We lived together for five, if you want that information, too,” Trey said evenly. He looked mad.
I wasn’t too happy myself. “Thank you,” I said stiffly. “Maybe I’m asking uncomfortable questions, because I really do hate coming across as nosy, but this has been kind of a shock, as I’m sure anyone would agree. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” We pulled into the store’s parking lot. I undid my seatbelt and didn’t wait for Trey to come open my door. I don’t think he would have; he was still staring straight ahead.
“Oh, and just so you know; I wasn’t wondering if you were cheating. I was wondering if I was a rebound.”
I guess I knew my answer.
Crap.
* * *
TREY FOLLOWED ME INTO the store, waited while I got a shopping cart, and kept pace with me as I checked my list and walked briskly through the store. I had looked forward to this unconventional date, but now I couldn’t wait to get through shopping so I could claim a sudden and violent stomach bug.
We were silent as I dumped a bag of cat food and Trey lifted a bag of litter I’d selected into the cart, before we made our way to the personal care items.
“The shaving cream is in that aisle,” I pointed out.
“Thanks,” Trey said, before he ambled off, with his hands in his front pockets. He looked really good in his jeans, but it hardly mattered now. I just wanted this to be over. While he was gone, I checked my list again. I quickly decided to get a few extra things.
Trey was still lingering in the aisle, so I picked up my shaving gel, some more razors, and soap, and then said, “If you don’t mind, I need a few things in the next couple of aisles.”
“No problem,” he said, looking up at me. There was a look of apology on his face, but I just nodded, passed behind him with the cart, and kept moving along, dodging both busy shoppers and those who were determined to pick up every single box or bottle and read all the ingredients, but not move out of the way as a courtesy to anyone else.
I grabbed hairspray, shampoo and conditioner, and some skin care products, before I hit the feminine hygiene aisle. I found exactly what I wanted. I’d just end up changing one stomach ailment for another.
Soon my cart was loaded down with jumbo-size packages of maxi pads, overnight pads, super-strength tampons, pain relievers, and feminine cleansing products. Satisfied with my selections, I was about to track down my date when he appeared.
“Oh, um, wow. You sure got a lot of stuff,” Trey managed. He looked awkward, which I was totally okay with.
“Yeah. I just remembered it’s about to be that time of the month, and I hate to run out in the middle of it.”
“Don’t they have shots and pills and stuff so you don’t have to have it? Kyra—”
I cut him off. There was no way I wanted to hear any more about them now, especially if he was going to get upset with me. “I can’t use them. They run up my blood pressure. So, I’m afraid it’s happy fun time every month for me.” And everyone else in my surrounding world.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. He looked for a free spot in the cart. He finally wedged the can between two boxes of tampons.
I waved him off. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” I suddenly grabbed hold of my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Trey asked.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Is there anything else you need?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
“Uh, no. I think I’ve got everything else.”
I couldn’t fake my relief. “Oh, good. If you don’t mind, I just need toilet paper. Oh, and paper towels. Do you mind pushing the cart?” I continued holding my stomach.
Trey was wide-eyed as I stepped back so he could grab the handle. I wanted to laugh at his discomfort in pushing a cart loaded down with feminine products while walking beside his date apparently having cramps, because I’ve got a mean streak a mile wide, but I groaned a little instead.
We managed to stuff the paper towels and toilet paper under the cart and went to check out. Since it was Saturday, the lines were long, and people had their carts loaded down, too. We definitely got some looks for all of my pads and such, but I just clutched my stomach. My drama coach in middle school may have told me I was a horrible actress, but forget him. I was having the time of my life now, making the best of a horrible situation.
When it was our turn, I gestured to Trey. “Go ahead. You only have the one item.”
“Oh, but I was going to pay for it all.”
Not a chance, Trey. I wasn’t going to owe him anything else since he’d had his little rebound fling last night. It was going to be awkward at work, but I’d get over it. He was going to have to find some other unsuspecting woman to make out with.
“That’s so sweet of you, Trey. Don’t worry; I’ve got my other job tonight. I’ll be able to afford it.” At least, I hoped so. I really did have a lot of crap that I was about to purchase.
“Are you a stripper?” Trey asked, way too loudly, a gleam in his eye. People were definitely staring at me. I glared at Trey.
I could feel my cheeks reddening. I thought about whispering, but wanted to make my answer clear to everyone around who’d already heard his question. “No, Trey, I am not a stripper! I waitress on the weekends because I haven’t had a raise in the last two years at my day job, and I’m saving up for a down payment on a house!”
There was no way I’d ever make it as a stripper. I liked heels, but I wasn’t comfortable with the public nudity thing. Plus, I’d probably throw out my back trying to twist around the pole. Or I could always fall off the stage. The tips might not cover my deductible for the emergency room visit sure to come afterwards.
Trey took a deep breath and released it. Then he turned to me, his forehead wrinkled. “Is this our first fight?”
“Maybe.” First and probably last once he drove me home.
Trey’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really need all that?” he asked, gesturing to my overflowing cart.
“Eventually I will.”
“Are you trying to teach me a lesson or something?”
I forgot to hold my stomach. “Can this please wait until we’re out of the store?”
“You want to do this in the restaurant?”
I wanted to scream, “There will be no restaurant!” but I decided screaming was a bad idea. “No, Trey, I do not want to do this in the restaurant,” I gritted out. I gestured to the empty conveyor. “It’s your turn.”
Trey smiled and joked with the clerk, as he paid. Then he helped me unload the cart.
“Thanks. You can wait up front, you know,” I told him.
He shrugged. “I’m good.” He even wrestled the toilet paper and paper towels for me, and then put the bags in the cart as I paid.
“Thanks,” I told the clerk.
Trey pushed the cart with all of my stuff out to our parking spot. He insisted on getting me in the car as he put my purchases in the trunk and then put the cart in the nearby corral.
I was still clutching my purse in my lap when Trey slid behind the steering wheel.
“Want to tell me what’s going on? I don’t really appreciate the passive-aggressive stuff. I had enough of that with my last relationship.”
My first instinct was to punch Trey in the shoulder. That would directly tell him how I felt about him comparing me to Kyra. My second instinct was to ask myself if I had been passive-aggressive. While I prided myself on trying to always meet problems head on, this guy had thrown me for a loop and maybe I had pushed things too far. I could admit the feminine product overload and faking cramps were immature, but I was hurt and embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be.” I turned to look at him. “You want direct?” Trey nodded. I hesitated, still itching to get physical, and not in a good way. I decided a vocal approach would be best. “When I asked you questions, trying to get more information, you were upset with me.” He opened his mouth, but I stopped him. “Let me have my say, please. Your fiancée broke up with you four months ago. If I had known that before, I never would have kissed you basically just after I met you. You didn’t give me a straight answer when I asked you if you still loved her. And last, when I wondered if I was a rebound, you never said anything. So, yes, I’m sure I didn’t handle matters the way I should have, but neither did you. I just met you last night and you’re already making me crazy! I shouldn’t be this upset by someone on our first kind-of date!”
“I, make you, crazy? Sweetheart, you’ve been driving me nuts since we met eighteen hours or so ago! I’m sorry I got upset with you—I hate having to relive that stuff, and although it’s over, it still hurts, because nobody wants to feel like a fool. I absolutely do not love Kyra, nor am I in love with her. I care enough that I wish her well in the future and that she doesn’t get hit by a bus or anything, but that’s it.
“When she broke it off, she did the best thing for me, even though I didn’t know it at the time. I left my home and my family for a fresh start and I was still pretty miserable and feeling sorry for myself until this utterly insane, beautiful girl ran into me last night outside the restrooms. You are not a fling. You are definitely not a rebound. I also have this bizarre urge to see if you pretend to get cramps and buy pads—or, who knows, maybe it’ll be mayonnaise—in bulk every time I make you mad. If that’s the case, we should probably look into getting a Sam’s or Costco card. Happy?”
I nodded, too surprised to say anything. I kind of liked this forceful Trey. Plus, I’d let my Sam’s card expire last year. Signing up for a new one would be a good idea.
“Good!” Trey grabbed my face between his hands and gave me an incredible kiss. I was stunned for just a moment, but moved closer until I had one hand on his cheek, and the other in his hair, as I kissed him back.
I’d like to say that we set the car on fire with our passion, but we quickly put a halt to things when a family with small children pushed their cart to their SUV in the space next to us. I really didn’t want to scar these young kids, and I think Trey had the same idea. We broke the kiss, I wiped traces of my lipstick off his mouth with my thumb, and he started the car once the SUV’s doors shut.
“Ready for some lunch?” he asked.
“You have no idea. I’m famished,” I told him.
He smoothly reversed, watching for people not paying attention to his car. When he shifted into drive, my charming Trey was back. He grinned at me, dimples showing. He asked, “What sounds good?”
We settled on fast food—cheeseburgers and French fries—because we were starving and didn’t want to wait too long.
Over lunch, we asked the get-to-know-each-other questions. He found out I was twenty-six. I found out Chinese food gave him migraines. I was addicted to anything with Ben Browder in it; he had an older brother and two younger half-sisters in Raleigh, where his family’s company was headquartered.
After we finished eating, we drove back to my place, and again, it could have been completely romantic, but it wasn’t. We waved to my neighbors on their front porches as we unloaded the trunk. Trey helped me carry the stuff inside and put everything away, even if most of it ended up in the floor of the linen closet for the time being. Not really romantic, but there was ease and there was familiarity that bespoke of years of knowing each other versus almost a day. If I believed in reincarnation, we would have known each other very well in our past lives.
“Monday’s my first day. Would you like to go to dinner afterwards to celebrate?” he asked.
“I’d really like that. Now, at the office, am I supposed to call you Mr. Mulgrew, or Donald, or...?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Trey will be just fine. I’m asking everyone to be on a first name basis with me from the start. I won’t be in the office every day, but I’d like to foster some camaraderie with my coworkers. It’ll be the same in the other offices.”
“Plan on having a girl in every office?” I really didn’t mean to ask that, it just slipped out.
Trey chuckled, so I guess he wasn’t offended by my question. “I think I’m going to have my hands full with one girl for a very long time.”
“I should hope so.”
“I like the way you think,” he told me.
“I like the way you kiss me until I can’t think straight.”
Trey groaned. “Sarah...”
“What?” I asked innocently. “You said you appreciate honesty. I’m just being honest.”
“What am I going to do with you?”
“I have plenty of ideas, but not a lot of time.”
Trey just shook his head at my cheekiness. “Why don’t I drop you off and pick you up tonight? That way you won’t be going out to an empty parking lot.” This one was definitely a keeper. His fiancée was an idiot, but her loss was definitely my gain.
“Are you sure? It’s now been almost 24 hours since we met.” Yes, I was keeping track.
He pulled me close, and kissed me hard, before releasing me. “I’m sure. You’re blushing?”
“Oh, my,” was all I could say. The man could kiss. I regained my bearings and tried to be sensible. “Listen, I won’t be through until really late,” I warned him. “If I’m lucky, it’ll be some time after two. Sometimes we run late, though.”
“It’s fine. Just call me when you’ve closed, and I’ll be there before you guys finish cleaning up.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Trey.”
We ended up snuggling on the couch, watching T.V. for a while before it was time for us to leave. I was dressed in my jeans and the bar’s tee shirt, and was brushing out my ponytail when I saw Trey and Orlando staring at me. Orlando had wedged himself between us on the couch, and now was allowing my boss/boyfriend to scratch behind his ears. Orlando didn’t like everybody, so yeah, he had the cat’s approval. Trey was definitely a keeper.
“What?” I asked.
Trey cast a sidelong look at me. “Maybe you won’t have to work this weekend job much longer. A raise could be coming your way.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Will everyone in the office be getting a raise?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Then no thanks. I won’t have it said that being the boss’...” I gestured wildly between the two of us, “...girlfriend got me that raise.”
“Boss’ girlfriend? By lunchtime, gossip will have you carrying my love child,” Trey teased.
“Seriously, Trey. You don’t even know if I’m good at my job. Maybe I’m the worst assistant the company’s ever seen.”
“Are you?”
“Of course not! You’re lucky to have me, buster!”
“I believe you,” he said, smiling.
My attitude dissolved into a gooey mess at his words. “Oh, you mean...”
“I’m lucky to have you, Sarah. Period. As for everyone at the office, if performance reviews are good, the money will be there. If they’re not, well, that’s the part of the job I never look forward to. Nobody does.” He shrugged.
I didn’t want to know too much of what was going on. I’d prefer keeping the business and personal sides of our relationship separate as much as possible. “Trey, you understand that I don’t want to be treated differently by you at the office than anyone else. I like my job, and I do my best at it.”
“That won’t be a problem. We can be professional at the office. But once it’s after-hours, it’s nobody’s business but ours.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I like that,” I told him.
“I kind of hoped you would,” Trey said. “But if you want to pretend to be Sarah, the Sexy Secretary, I’m totally okay with that.”
I rolled my eyes and tried a sultry voice. “Silly Trey, I don’t have to pretend.”
He groaned. “I don’t know if I can wait until Monday.”
“You’ll be fine,” I insisted.
“I know. Maybe it’s for the best we’ll be apart this evening and most of tomorrow. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on before Monday,” he said ruefully.
I kissed him, and pushed against his chest to release me. “Come on, I can’t be late, and you have phone calls and paperwork.”
Trey drove me to the restaurant, and he kissed me before I opened the door. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said.
I smiled. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
YOU WON’T BE SURPRISED that Trey and I fell in love. It began that night in the restaurant, and it’s still a work in progress, which is how I’m pretty sure it should be. While I was certainly attracted to his looks, and he was funny, and smart, and wonderful, it took time to see the true measure of my boyfriend. He was one of those rare specimens, male or otherwise, who kept his promises, even when it meant picking me up in the middle of the night from my second job, which I did get to quit the following month. Sometimes it was things he mentioned in passing to me about our future, solemn vows spoken in front of family and friends, or declarations about loving me and wanting to give me whatever was within his power.
Once we had rings, a mortgage, and a dog to keep Orlando company, Trey kept another promise he’d mentioned in front of our colleagues many years earlier at that very important dinner: none of our children was ever named Donald Mulgrew, IV.