marvels over the office accessories I’ve arranged on her new desk.
“I didn’t even know an office could look like this. It’s so much nicer and more suitable to my practice than my old office,” Sandra says, her voice expressing wonder and gratitude. I tear my eyes reluctantly from Todd, my heart beating faster at the look on his face—impressed, maybe a little proud.
“I’m happy you’re happy,” I say. It’s my standard line when a client has this reaction. I’ve done my job. I feel an almost fierce sense of pride myself, considering how marginalized I’ve felt at work in recent weeks. Take that, Candace , I can’t help but think.
“I’m recommending you to all my friends,” Sandra continues. “I mean, I already do but seriously. I’m telling everybody I know to call you. You’re amazing.”
I feel my cheeks growing warm as she walks over and pulls me into a hug. Todd has a small smile on his face, and he backs out of the doorway and slips into the waiting area. I’m hoping he hasn’t left as Sandra and I continue discussing the space, and I show her a few features of the desk and filing cabinets.
When I slip out the side doorway onto a small terrace—Sandra has a separate entrance to her home office—and round the corner to the driveway, I’m filled with relief that Todd’s truck is still parked in the drive and confused that I feel so strongly about it. I walk up the brick path, noting that he’s sitting in the truck with the engine not running. When he spots me, he opens his door and gets out.
“Great work in there,” he calls to me in a genial tone.
“Same to you,” I say, shifting my heavy bag from my left shoulder down to my hand.
“Here, let me take that for you.” He speeds up his step and makes a motion toward the bag. I hesitate, then let him have it. It’s heavy, yes, but I lug around heavy items all the time. It’s an occupational hazard.
“Thanks,” I say as we both start walking toward my car, which is parked on the street.
He clears his throat as I reach the rear driver’s side door, and I don’t look up at him, busying myself with opening the door, taking the bag from his outstretched hands, and dropping it onto the back floorboard—keeping myself busy because the moment is growing uncomfortable. Can Todd sense that I’m attracted to him? Is he about to ask me out? Because it sure feels that way—this scenario we’re in has that awkward, boy-meets-girl feeling imprinted all over it.
I want it, and I’m not ready for it. Jeremy and I just broke up. I feel like I need some time to breathe.
“Um,” he starts, and I’m so tense I’m practically taut. I shut the back door of my car and stand beside the driver’s side door. Finally, I glance up at him, wary.
“I just want to say thanks for this opportunity,” he says. “I’m not sure if Quinn mentioned this, but I’m new to this game.” Quinn did not mention this, and I’ve been wondering about the other things Quinn didn’t mention when she referred me to Todd. She knows I’m newly single, of course. Is she trying to set me up? And if so, why isn’t she interested in him herself?
I unclench at his statement, feeling relieved and yet strangely disappointed that he didn’t hit on me. And then I snap out of it. What am I thinking? We’ve just met, and this is a professional situation, not a bar. Clearly the sexual tension I’m feeling is entirely one-sided.
“No problem,” I say, trying to sound breezy, which has the effect of making the words seem stilted. I need to get a grip. “I never would have guessed you aren’t experienced. You did a great job.” This, at least, is the truth.
He hesitates, and I’m hit with another surge of nerves. “It was my first time, actually.” The double meaning of these last few phrases are starting to get to me. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks, and I laugh nervously to cover it up.
“Really? I never would have guessed. I’ll definitely call
“I didn’t even know an office could look like this. It’s so much nicer and more suitable to my practice than my old office,” Sandra says, her voice expressing wonder and gratitude. I tear my eyes reluctantly from Todd, my heart beating faster at the look on his face—impressed, maybe a little proud.
“I’m happy you’re happy,” I say. It’s my standard line when a client has this reaction. I’ve done my job. I feel an almost fierce sense of pride myself, considering how marginalized I’ve felt at work in recent weeks. Take that, Candace , I can’t help but think.
“I’m recommending you to all my friends,” Sandra continues. “I mean, I already do but seriously. I’m telling everybody I know to call you. You’re amazing.”
I feel my cheeks growing warm as she walks over and pulls me into a hug. Todd has a small smile on his face, and he backs out of the doorway and slips into the waiting area. I’m hoping he hasn’t left as Sandra and I continue discussing the space, and I show her a few features of the desk and filing cabinets.
When I slip out the side doorway onto a small terrace—Sandra has a separate entrance to her home office—and round the corner to the driveway, I’m filled with relief that Todd’s truck is still parked in the drive and confused that I feel so strongly about it. I walk up the brick path, noting that he’s sitting in the truck with the engine not running. When he spots me, he opens his door and gets out.
“Great work in there,” he calls to me in a genial tone.
“Same to you,” I say, shifting my heavy bag from my left shoulder down to my hand.
“Here, let me take that for you.” He speeds up his step and makes a motion toward the bag. I hesitate, then let him have it. It’s heavy, yes, but I lug around heavy items all the time. It’s an occupational hazard.
“Thanks,” I say as we both start walking toward my car, which is parked on the street.
He clears his throat as I reach the rear driver’s side door, and I don’t look up at him, busying myself with opening the door, taking the bag from his outstretched hands, and dropping it onto the back floorboard—keeping myself busy because the moment is growing uncomfortable. Can Todd sense that I’m attracted to him? Is he about to ask me out? Because it sure feels that way—this scenario we’re in has that awkward, boy-meets-girl feeling imprinted all over it.
I want it, and I’m not ready for it. Jeremy and I just broke up. I feel like I need some time to breathe.
“Um,” he starts, and I’m so tense I’m practically taut. I shut the back door of my car and stand beside the driver’s side door. Finally, I glance up at him, wary.
“I just want to say thanks for this opportunity,” he says. “I’m not sure if Quinn mentioned this, but I’m new to this game.” Quinn did not mention this, and I’ve been wondering about the other things Quinn didn’t mention when she referred me to Todd. She knows I’m newly single, of course. Is she trying to set me up? And if so, why isn’t she interested in him herself?
I unclench at his statement, feeling relieved and yet strangely disappointed that he didn’t hit on me. And then I snap out of it. What am I thinking? We’ve just met, and this is a professional situation, not a bar. Clearly the sexual tension I’m feeling is entirely one-sided.
“No problem,” I say, trying to sound breezy, which has the effect of making the words seem stilted. I need to get a grip. “I never would have guessed you aren’t experienced. You did a great job.” This, at least, is the truth.
He hesitates, and I’m hit with another surge of nerves. “It was my first time, actually.” The double meaning of these last few phrases are starting to get to me. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks, and I laugh nervously to cover it up.
“Really? I never would have guessed. I’ll definitely call
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