Mira
Tyler’s confession a week ago that he’d been engaged hit me hard. It’s what I expected when he left our hometown, but again, I wasn’t prepared to hear firsthand about him falling in love with someone else. Realistic or not, I dreamt it would be me he’d declare his undying love to one day. The knowledge that he was prepared to marry another cuts deep, and I’ve been covering the wound through long hours at work and avoiding him at home. Only my long hours at work haven’t been as good for my spirits as I thought they would be.
This past week at Blue has been a combination of jackassery (on my part) and stress. Hayden said I’d be her assistant in human resources as well as the assistant to the hospitality manager until they found a replacement. Well, Hayden and I have been so busy putting out human resources fires—as we’re both new and learning the ropes—that Hayden only recently sent out an advertisement for the hospitality position. To add to the pressure, Blue is preparing for a large music festival, which has resulted in a boatload of extra work for both of us. In short, I’m a one-woman band, performing two jobs when I don’t know how to do either properly.
After I graduated, I went straight from the Sallees’ home to living on my own and working hostess and floor jobs at a casino, no office work required. Among the Blue executives, I’m a beginner at everything. I’ve made so many mistakes that even my male coworkers have stopped leering and look at me with pity.
It’s a sad state of affairs when men stop ogling me like I’m a piece of meat. I mean, I never liked it, but damn.
I stare at the laminated instructions attached to the printer. I’m just changing out a black ink cartridge. Easy, right? I can totally do this.
Awesome. Now I’m giving myself positive affirmations over office equipment.
My therapist has me saying positive affirmations. Stuff like I am lovable, I am special, I am worthy of loyalty. Supposedly, if I say it enough, it sinks in, and this halo of doom I walk around with—that everyone and anyone will leave me—will dissipate and I won’t push people away with my negative vibe. My therapist is quick to state it’s not my fault that these things happen. I had bad luck in the parental department, with the exception of the Sallees, who’ve done their best to make up for what my biological parents lacked. But she says it can’t hurt to build a positive internal dialogue.
My therapist has some crazy theories, but I like her.
You know what? Positive affirmation or not, this office shit is intimidating. Like this, for instance. Do not throw used toner cartridge into open flame, as this may cause the remaining toner to ignite. I mean, seriously, what is this—gunpowder?
Whatever. I can do this. I am capable. I am smart.
“Open toner replacement cover. Pull toner cartridge out of supply port,” I read aloud.
Done and done.
I walk to the supply cabinet and grab the box with the new black toner.
“Hey.”
My body jerks and I slap a hand to my chest, glaring at the handsome figure in the doorway. “Holy shit, Tyler. Don’t walk up on a girl like that.”
He steps into the room. “Why so tense? I’ve been standing here for the last minute watching you talk to yourself.”
Okay, embarrassing. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
His lips purse in thought. “Maybe, but this is more entertaining.”
“Changing printer cartridges is entertaining?”
“Watching you do it is.”
I glare at him. “You can leave now.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He crosses his arms, his mouth turned up in a grin.
Awesome. An audience. And Tyler of all people.
Whatever. It’s just a printer. So what if said printer comes up to my chest and resembles R2-D2? I’ve got this. I read the instructions.
I open the cartridge box and ignore Tyler in his hot security guard uniform, which has less to do with the uniform and more to do with Tyler’s amazing body filling out the tailored fabric.
Damn it. Now I’m thinking about how good he looked in his swim trunks.
I take a deep breath. No way am I going back to the instructions with Tyler staring over my shoulder. That would give him more ammunition to make fun of me. I remember what the instructions said. Mostly. How hard can it be? Something about removing the seal and shaking the cartridge while holding both ends, probably to get the toner to loosen up.
See? Common sense. I can do common sense.
I remove the seal as instructed, which comes off easily, and toss it in the trash can. Holding both ends of the toner all casual-like, as if I’m a pro—
“Wait—”
I give it a good shake.
And splatter black shit all over my shirt, the floor…the wall?
Fuckballs.
I hear soft snickering, and turn to see Tyler pinching the bridge of his nose, seemingly holding back tears. Dammit.
“You might want to wait to remove the seal until after you’ve shaken it,” he says.
I pat at the black powder on my blouse. “And you’re just now informing me of this?”
“I tried to stop you. You acted like you knew what you were doing. Or were you pretending?” His eyes say he knows the answer to that question.
“Jerk.”
“Hey,” he chuckles, closing the door as another worker tries to peek inside, “don’t get mad at me.” He steps closer and surveys the debris. “It’s not so bad. Keep your voice down and we can get it cleaned up without anyone knowing.”
Tyler removes the toner cartridge from my hands and inserts it into the machine, expertly closing the cover and resetting a couple of buttons.
He looks at my white blouse covered in inky soot. “That’s a goner.”
“You think?” I say, pure sarcasm.
I hastily grab paper towels from inside the storage cabinet and wipe the soot from my hands. Tyler tears off a paper towel as well and starts dabbing at my sleeve, my chest, which I realize is also splattered with toner. Excellent.
He reaches for a spot near my collarbone, and his knuckle grazes my nipple. It’s cold in here, and I’m agitated, and well, shit, I’m a bit nippy.
I must gasp—I sure as hell stand stock-still—because Tyler stops what he’s doing. He stares at his hand an inch from my breast now, frozen in mid-wipe. He doesn’t say anything. The awkward tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Then his gaze lifts to my eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily.
His empty hand moves up and I watch it warily. Suddenly, the tension doesn’t feel so much like awkward, more like another type of tension I’m not used to, but sense on a regular basis around Tyler. He cups my jaw, the tips of his long, warm fingers grazing the nape of my neck.
I close my eyes. I know where this is going. I feel it. The irresistible pull. I can’t look. I’m on a rollercoaster about to drop off the highest hill, and I won’t look to see if he follows through with the promise in his eyes.
Warm lips meet mine and the faintest moan escapes my throat.
Oh God. I’ve waited so long. I didn’t know I was waiting, but I have been. Waiting for Tyler.
His fingers slide into my hair, his hand angling my head while his mouth delves deeper, the touch of his tongue hitting me in places far more south. I’m dizzy, my heart pounding in my chest as our mouths collide, retract for soft kisses, then melt together again. I don’t dare lift my hands and touch him, afraid I’ll break the spell.
The sound of a throat clearing has Tyler breaking away. He stares at me with heat in his eyes before glancing over his shoulder.
“Hello, Ms. Tate. I was just leaving,” he says hurriedly, his voice gruff. He glances at me with an enigmatic look, then steps out the door, while Hayden passes into the room.
I don’t remember the door opening. I didn’t hear anything except the pounding of my heart as Tyler kissed me—in front of my boss.
This is a classy place, and I’m making out in the copy room. Great, just great.
“Hayden,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
She shuts the door, and turns to me. “He’s cute,” she whispers, though it’s only us in here.
“I—what?”
“I mean, you guys shouldn’t—you know—at work, but you definitely should. I almost walked out. I felt like I was intruding.” She fans her face. “I need to get out more, because that was”—she nods as if agreeing with herself—“hot.”
Who is this teenybopper? Hayden is my young, but formal, MBA boss, not this slightly flushed girl gossiping about a boy.
“I spilled toner. He was, uh, helping me?” It comes out as a question, because I’m not sure how we went from cleaning up to our mouths inhaling each other. Hayden grins suggestively, then glances at the arm I raise as proof.
She winces. “I’ve got a cardigan you can borrow.”
“Thank you.” I wipe the last of the toner off the wall and move to the door, my body gliding, half-dazed. What just happened with Tyler? And does Hayden really not care?
“Mira—” Hayden touches my arm, startling me. “I’m all for romance, but you can’t do that here.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
She nods decisively. “We can’t give them any reason to doubt us.” She doesn’t say whom. “I have some clout, because I’m helping the casino’s image, but I don’t want to give Blue a reason to fire me. And you shouldn’t either.”
“I promise, Hayden. What you saw was…” I can’t finish my sentence. I don’t know what just happened. Something I never thought would.
Tyler kissed me. And I felt it everywhere.
We live together, but he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t know why he did it here, now, but I’m not complaining. Except—I can’t lose my job, or endanger Hayden’s. She’s right. We can’t step out of line at Blue. But man, I hope…
I won’t finish that thought, because whenever I hope for something, my wishes never come true. Only I’ve been dreaming of kissing Tyler ever since he returned, and that dream came true.
“Nessa,” I say as I dip a chicken tender in barbecue sauce. I just got off work and we’re in the Blue cafeteria, in the basement, eating dinner before she begins her shift. “Do you think dreams come true? Like farfetched ones?”
Nessa sprinkles salt on her french fries. “Sure. But I guess it depends on the dream. If you’re planning on flying to the moon…?”
“No, of course not. It just seems like, well, wanting something ensures it’ll never happen.”
Nessa studies me for a moment. She’s in her Blue cocktail uniform, the bustier of her sequined top pushing up her small breasts into half-moons. She has the tiniest waist and beautiful, straight black hair. I have to pull my wavy mass into a ponytail first thing in the morning, otherwise it’s a nest. “I guess sometimes that’s true, but I think it has more to do with the thing you want not being right for you. Like, even though you want it, you’re not meant to take that path, you know?”
Her words are honest, and they really suck.
My heart has always told me Tyler is right for me. But whether I’m pushing him away, or he’s pushing me away, it’s never worked out.
Then today happened.
Something changed, or maybe we’ve been moving in this direction from the very beginning. Tyler kissed me. It was new and familiar at the same time, and so honest it spoke more than any words we could have shared.
No wonder Hayden walked in on us without me noticing. The fire alarm could have gone off and it would have taken me a minute to figure out where I was. Tyler’s kiss was heat and emotion, and it drained the brain cells from my head.
“What if there was a chance to have what you thought you couldn’t? A person you always wanted to be with.”
“Um—go for it?” she says as if it’s a no-brainer. “If I could…Well, let’s just say, if I liked a guy, which I’m not saying I do, but if I did, I would jump at the opportunity to seal the deal.”
I swirl my chicken in the barbecue sauce, my cheeks growing warm at the idea of going down that path again with Tyler. “Really? What if that’s all there was?”
I’ve been there before, and it hurt so badly to watch Tyler leave town. Can I go through it again?
“Better to have loved and lost, you know? I’m pretty sure someone really smart said that.” She grins, proud of herself.
She’s right, though. I’ve dreamt of being with Tyler for what feels like my entire life, and now there may be an opening. A small one, because he seemed as surprised by the kiss as I was. But if he’s having second thoughts about me, about us trying again…I’d like to give it a chance.
Who am I kidding? I totally want him. There’s no question.
“You’ve changed,” Nessa says, her expression serious.
“What do you mean?” Are my emotions showing on my face? Or worse, has the kiss gotten around? I haven’t noticed a grapevine, but I’m new. People talk.
She tilts her head. “You seem happier.”
I smile shyly. “Thanks.”
My therapist has helped me deal with my mom issues. And this new job—despite my office bloopers—has challenged me and gotten me excited about work. Shit is still going on, but I feel happier.
“Your mom has put you through the wringer, Mira. No one could go through what you’ve had to and not be affected by it. But I’m really proud of you for getting help. You’ve been cool about Lewis spending time with Gen.”
I’m not proud of how I behaved when Lewis first started dating Gen, and it sucks to have the reminders. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad he’s with her. At least he picked a good one.”
“True. You never know with those guys.” Nessa’s mouth firms and she grabs her soda, taking a sip.
The only guy left in our crew is Zach. Is she saying she doubts Zach’s ability to pick a nice girl?
I can’t argue with her there. Zach is a flighty one. At first I thought he might have a thing for Nessa, but it never went anywhere. In fact, they seem more buddy-buddy than ever.
“I don’t think you should give up on a happy ending,” she says. “Focus on good things, and good things will happen.” She giggles. “Deep, huh?”
“Maybe not, but I think you’re on to something.”