After he lets go of me, I adjust my clothes, assuring everything is still perfectly in place. I hold in my breath, trying to calm my racing heart then look at him one last time. “Bye, Blake.”
He winks.
Work reminded me of my first day of school this morning. Here’s your desk. There are the supplies. I’ll be your supervisor. Ugh.
My phone dings with a new text message.
Dana: We still on tonight??
Me: God, yes! Margaritas?
Dana: You know it. Meet me at Marco’s at 7.
Just what I need after a day like this. I tap my nails against the desk and stare at the clock. My cubicle ended up being on the fifth floor, which is nothing like the twelfth. Inspiration and good-looking men are minimal. I’m so bored out of my mind, I’d file, staple, enter data; I’m not too picky.
My mind wanders to Blake, and the date he promised me on the counter. Maybe I should let him know I won’t be home until late. Or maybe I shouldn’t because we’re not really dating—this isn’t a relationship where I have to report my every move.
Still, I don’t want him to worry so I pull out my cell phone again. After all the angst of not knowing where he was this weekend, I still didn’t ask for his number.
Looking at the time, I’m pretty sure Mallory is out of class for the day so I try her first.
Me: What’s Blake’s number?
A couple minutes tick by. More clock watching.
She texts me with it, and I quickly program it into my phone.
Mallory: Why did u need his #?
Me: Need to tell him something.
Mallory: Did he leave the toilet seat up?
I ignore her, typing out a text to Blake.
Me: Won’t be home until late tonight.—Lila
A reply comes right away.
Blake: I thought we had a date.
I smile . . . it’s hard not to. Every time I’ve walked around today, I’ve thought of him. When I look at the desk or the counter, I think of him. Even the walls make me think of him.
Me: Climb up on the counter and take care of that little problem yourself.
Blake: There’s nothing little about that problem. It’s a big problem, and your sexy-librarian-ass is going to take care of it tonight.
Me: I’ll be too tired, and maybe drunk. Sorry.
A couple minutes pass, and when I’m starting to think he’s pissed that I canceled, the phone dings again.
Blake: Still feel me between your legs?
Me: . . .
Blake: Good. Where are you going tonight?
I debate telling him, but finally concede to our little game.
Me: Marco’s
Then there’s nothing. Air silence.
As soon as the clock hits noon, I jump in the elevator, following the masses. The mixture of cologne and perfume fills the overheated space as the doors open at every floor. It’s a waste of time; there should be a It’s fucking full, and I want to get the hell out of here button.
When it finally stops on the ground floor, we parade out like a herd of caged animals. I’d gotten a tour of the cafeteria yesterday so I’m not surprised how big it is, but now that it’s full of people, it’s ten times scarier.
Not wanting to deal with lines, I head straight to the salad bar and load my plate with chicken, veggies, and fruit. I grab a bottle of water and pay before looking for an open place to sit. Surprisingly, there’s a single open table in the corner, and since I don’t know anyone here, I gravitate toward it.
I barely have my first bite in when a brunette—about my age—stops next to me. I’m admiring her mass of curls when she clears her throat. “Excuse me.”
“Hi,” I reply, not quite sure what else to say.
“Are these seats taken?” she asks, motioning to the three chairs that surround me.
“No.”
She exhales audibly, setting her tray down beside mine. “Oh, good. You’re the only person in this room who looked cool to sit with.”
“It’s kind of like high school, isn’t it?”
“Exactly. Everyone has their own little cliques, and I’m sort of the new kid, trying her best to work her way to the top. I thought adulthood would put an end to this,” she says, peeling the lid off her yogurt. “I’m Reece, by the way.”
“I’m Lila, and I’m new here too. Yesterday was my first day.”
Her eyes widen. “Me too, Architecture Apprenticeship. Ugh, the whole reason I picked Stanley was to work under Pierce Stanley, and my mentor told me he’s never here.”
I bite my lower lip, thinking about my meetings with Pierce. He’s the type of guy most girls would sell their soul to touch. “I have a Design Apprenticeship, and I’ve been staring at the clock since my mentor went into a meeting this morning. They don’t even trust me with a stapler yet.”
“That sucks. I’d staple all day if I could get one glimpse of Pierce.”
“What’s his story anyway?” I ask. There’s no way I’m going to tell her that I’ve met Pierce on numerous occasions—even had my interview with him. From what she’s said so far, she’d probably tackle me and beat every little fact about him out of me.
“You don’t know?”
I shake my head . . . Pierce is a big unknown. The little bit of time we’ve spent together hasn’t even scratched the surface.
“He’s talented, well-respected, and successful at a very young age. On top of that, the guy’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen him in person, but if he’s even half the man he is in pictures, I’ll die.” She sounds and looks like a teenage girl talking about a hot new boy band.
I’ve never seen a picture of Pierce, but the man’s beyond gorgeous—at least half Italian, perfect body, and impeccable style. “Is he single?”
She snorts. “You need to Google him. Seriously. He dates but nothing serious. They always post pictures from events and red carpets online, but he’s never had the same woman with him twice.” Something tells me she’d be satisfied with just one shot. One date. One kiss.
“Interesting.”
I wonder if I’m just a game piece to Pierce. Why does he want to take me to the benefit when he could have his pick of gorgeous women?
Chasing all those thoughts and doubts away, I spend the rest of my break talking to Reece about where she grew up and how it compares to here. We both groan while sharing our orientation stories. She reminds me a little of Mallory—super book smart—but she’s also funny and quirky.
“How long have you lived in Chicago?” I ask, pushing my half-eaten salad away.
“Since Saturday. It sucks because I don’t know anyone.”
“I’m going out with a friend tonight if you’d like to join us. Nothing too exciting, just tacos and margaritas, but it will get you out of the house.” Maybe I should have asked Dana first, but I don’t think she’ll mind. Reece is more straight-laced, but they’re both guy crazy.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”
“Oh my God, yes.” I swear she’s going to jump out of her chair and hug me. Tonight will be fun, or at least it will be a good break from the mundane life I’ve been living—besides when I’m with Blake.
MARCO’S ISN’T QUITE WHAT I expected. It’s a bar like Dana said, but one end resembles a dance club. I wanted low key, relaxing, but this is more of a go out, have fun, get drunk, and hope to God you don’t have to work the next day type of place.