– innocent stuff, really, easily written off – and the cumulative effect it was having on Christie was impossible to ignore. Every day, for her, was now a rollercoaster of emotions. It was like waking up to something you’ve known all along: once she noticed her feelings for Michael, she couldn’t push them back out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried. She just didn’t know whether or not Michael felt the same way.
And after almost a week of this delicious, uncertain turmoil, Christie knew things were going to boil over pretty soon, one way or another.
So it was understandable, then, that Christie found herself sneaking a once-over in the office mirror before heading out to the back room, just to make sure her hair was in place and her makeup looked okay. She was thirty-one years old, but she felt like a high-schooler in his presence. It’s just Michael , she scolded herself, as she pushed an errant curl of hair back behind her ear. There’s no need to preen!
She could hear laughter behind the door. Michael was probably joking around with Rick, the office clown. Oh, just get out there already, Christie’s inner voice demanded. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and pushed the door open.
“Hey, Christie!” said Michael, turning to face her as she walked in. He looked gorgeous this morning, wearing dark jeans and an olive green V-neck that perfectly accentuated his broad frame. “How’s it going, babe?” he asked.
Christie smiled, inwardly relishing the word “babe” and the fact that he’d visibly brightened when he saw her. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Hi, guys!” she said cheerfully, and walked over to the table where they were sitting. “How’s business?”
“Spectacular,” said Michael, rolling his eyes playfully. “As you can see, we’re hard at work here.” He was sitting on the tabletop, his legs swung casually over the edge, eating a bagel. He was the picture of nonchalance. Rick was holding a clipboard and smiling from ear to ear, as if he’d just been caught telling a dirty joke.
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” said Christie, turning to Rick. “Did you get lucky last night or something?”
Rick burst out laughing. “I wish,” he said. He shot an amused look at Michael. “Michael and I were just talking about that, actually.”
Christie stopped short, a stricken look on her face. What could that mean? she wondered to herself. Has Michael met someone? Trying to look unconcerned, she turned to Michael and asked him as much. “Oh, yeah?” she said, with measured indifference. “Someone new in the picture, Michael?”
Michael looked at Christie steadily. “Sort of,” he said slowly, watching Christie’s expression and observing the effect of each word as he spoke. “There’s someone I’m interested in, but I’m not sure if they feel the same way as I do.”
Christie plastered a false, cheery smile on her face, while inwardly her mind started racing. He had to be talking about her, right? Or was she imagining the whole thing? She realized the men were waiting for her to say something. She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice.
“Well, how are you going to find out?” she managed. “Are you going to tell her how you feel? Give her a sign or something?”
He smiled back at her, his eyes full of meaning. “She’ll know when she sees it,” he said.
They looked at each other for a long second, each trying to read the other’s face. Christie felt lightheaded, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her mouth opened, about to speak. Michael’s eyes widened in anticipation.
Suddenly, Rick interjected, ruining the moment. “Attaboy, Michael!” he guffawed, slapping Michael on the back. “Put some candy in her stocking, if you know what I mean!” He cackled with glee.
Michael stood up abruptly. He looked annoyed all of a sudden. “All right, Rick,”
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