enough.”
“Does he do well at the firm?”
“Well enough.”
“Susan, honey, I wish you’d take your life more seriously. You should consider how he performs at the firm because you work there. You wouldn’t want to be associated with somebody in poor regard.”
“Ma, if I took my life any more seriously, I’d be my own psychiatrist.”
“No need for cute remarks, dear. Moving forward with my questions, he doesn’t already have a girlfriend, does he?”
“Not that I’ve met,” I answer glibly. Yet despite my quip, this question makes me pause. After I hang up the phone, my thoughts go back to Jordan and Melba. I think they’re dating, but I’m not sure. It isn’t like I have any way to find out. I wouldn’t begin to broach the topic with Jordan, and if I ask anybody else, especially Leila, they’ll wonder why I want to know. As much as I love Leila and value her input, a potential affair with my boss is something too terrifying to share with anyone at the firm.
I have my date with Allen. We go to the movies and then to a pub. The conversation flows easily and I laugh a good part of the time. It’s a genuinely pleasant experience and the first time I’ve gotten to know a co-worker on a personal level since Leila.
Learning that other young lawyers have similar hopes and fears make mine seem within the range of normal. Maybe I’m not so strange after all. Allen certainly doesn’t make me feel strange. On the contrary, he’s going out of his way to make me feel appreciated and special. He does little things, buttering a dinner roll and then handing it to me. The understated way he acts is refreshing.
But as much of a good time as I’m having, there are still moments I feel disconnected from my body, when I float above myself. Watching my date from a distance, as well as living it. How many dates does one have to have with a person before a real connection happens?
Already midnight, our date is over. Surprisingly, time has moved quickly. Allen hasn’t tried to grope me and he gets points for that. This guy might be okay after all.
“I had a good time tonight,” I say. “Let’s go out again soon.”
“Wow, Sue. Okay. I’ve never been on a date before with a girl who tells you how she feels.” He smiles. “It’s a nice change of pace. How about next Saturday?”
And so my dates with Allen are on.
Allen’s been real good about not sharing our news with the rest of the office. I decide to let Leila in on these facts but make it a point this time to tell her not to repeat my business. Slightly offended, she agrees.
“You know you can criticize me for being a blabbermouth all you want, but if you get the award for most achieved young associate, you can thank me. The partners know about your outside business efforts because I said something.”
“Okay, Leila, that’s true. But I don’t think there’s an award for intra-office dating, so it would be good if we keep this to ourselves.”
She must be true to her word, no one else seems to know. If Allen and I see each other in the office, it’s by accident. We mutter a “hello” and then go back to what we were doing. It’s so low key it’s like we are entirely different people on our Saturdays.
I’m certain Allen really likes me. A box of Belgian truffles has been hand-delivered. The note simply reads: “For you.” There’s no other inscription and no signature, but of course it has to be from Allen. I call his desk extension to thank him but he denies sending them to me. “Sorry, Sue,” he says. “It wasn’t me. I’m allergic to chocolate so it’s not something I would think to send. They must be from that other guy you’re seeing.”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” I say defensively.
“C’mon, Sue! If I didn’t send you those, obviously some other guy did.”
I’m silent. There’s no reason for me to confess the other candidate’s identity because that scenario seems impossible. Why would Jordan have
“Does he do well at the firm?”
“Well enough.”
“Susan, honey, I wish you’d take your life more seriously. You should consider how he performs at the firm because you work there. You wouldn’t want to be associated with somebody in poor regard.”
“Ma, if I took my life any more seriously, I’d be my own psychiatrist.”
“No need for cute remarks, dear. Moving forward with my questions, he doesn’t already have a girlfriend, does he?”
“Not that I’ve met,” I answer glibly. Yet despite my quip, this question makes me pause. After I hang up the phone, my thoughts go back to Jordan and Melba. I think they’re dating, but I’m not sure. It isn’t like I have any way to find out. I wouldn’t begin to broach the topic with Jordan, and if I ask anybody else, especially Leila, they’ll wonder why I want to know. As much as I love Leila and value her input, a potential affair with my boss is something too terrifying to share with anyone at the firm.
I have my date with Allen. We go to the movies and then to a pub. The conversation flows easily and I laugh a good part of the time. It’s a genuinely pleasant experience and the first time I’ve gotten to know a co-worker on a personal level since Leila.
Learning that other young lawyers have similar hopes and fears make mine seem within the range of normal. Maybe I’m not so strange after all. Allen certainly doesn’t make me feel strange. On the contrary, he’s going out of his way to make me feel appreciated and special. He does little things, buttering a dinner roll and then handing it to me. The understated way he acts is refreshing.
But as much of a good time as I’m having, there are still moments I feel disconnected from my body, when I float above myself. Watching my date from a distance, as well as living it. How many dates does one have to have with a person before a real connection happens?
Already midnight, our date is over. Surprisingly, time has moved quickly. Allen hasn’t tried to grope me and he gets points for that. This guy might be okay after all.
“I had a good time tonight,” I say. “Let’s go out again soon.”
“Wow, Sue. Okay. I’ve never been on a date before with a girl who tells you how she feels.” He smiles. “It’s a nice change of pace. How about next Saturday?”
And so my dates with Allen are on.
Allen’s been real good about not sharing our news with the rest of the office. I decide to let Leila in on these facts but make it a point this time to tell her not to repeat my business. Slightly offended, she agrees.
“You know you can criticize me for being a blabbermouth all you want, but if you get the award for most achieved young associate, you can thank me. The partners know about your outside business efforts because I said something.”
“Okay, Leila, that’s true. But I don’t think there’s an award for intra-office dating, so it would be good if we keep this to ourselves.”
She must be true to her word, no one else seems to know. If Allen and I see each other in the office, it’s by accident. We mutter a “hello” and then go back to what we were doing. It’s so low key it’s like we are entirely different people on our Saturdays.
I’m certain Allen really likes me. A box of Belgian truffles has been hand-delivered. The note simply reads: “For you.” There’s no other inscription and no signature, but of course it has to be from Allen. I call his desk extension to thank him but he denies sending them to me. “Sorry, Sue,” he says. “It wasn’t me. I’m allergic to chocolate so it’s not something I would think to send. They must be from that other guy you’re seeing.”
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” I say defensively.
“C’mon, Sue! If I didn’t send you those, obviously some other guy did.”
I’m silent. There’s no reason for me to confess the other candidate’s identity because that scenario seems impossible. Why would Jordan have
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