I shook my head. It was appalling that this was all the staff could think about these days. In the meantime, they did still all have events lined up through the next few weeks. There needed to be more thought to go into this. A better strategy all together. Not strike fear into their souls. “How’s your search going?”
“Oh terrific, can’t you hear my phone ringing off the hook?”
I shrugged. “I’m happy to help if you need it.” I grinned and swirled in my chair back to my computer.
“Hey if you’re looking to share some ideas, you should come to the ‘planned to perfection’meeting we have twice a month here. We just kind of brainstorm off each other and help with gaps. It’s kind of like a workshop that Starr hosts, but I swear, it’s just another way for her to keep track of what we’re working on.”
“Oh, Starr did forward me the invite for that. It’s tomorrow right?” I clicked on my calendar.
Mimi pushed her chair back toward me. “So about that guy you were thinking about?”
I sighed. “How did you know?”
“If you’re not concerned with work, then you were there pulling your hair out over someonewho’s been on your mind.”
I sighed and glanced around us. “His name is Scott; I met him at a party. He doesn’t know my real name. Well, he knows my real name; people just haven’t called me that since grade school. I didn’t think I’d see him again, but then I did and he’s really sweet and hot and so…not meant for me. My best friend is being super uptight about it. Anyway, there are things…I can’t really take back now, and I need to figure out a way to not see him again.”
Mimi nodded. “Okay, I didn’t understand half of that. But what I would like to know…is why you can’t just tell him you don’t want to see him again?”
I looked up at her with guilty eyes and bit my lip.
“Oh you don’twantto stop seeing him. I see.” Mimi shook her head. “Then honey, you’d better hurry up and give him the low-down on the real Elle Rybeck and give this guy a chance.” She gave me one last encouraging look before swirling her chair back to her desk.
My eyes drifted to my phone. “Maybe I won’t have to,” I mumbled.
It was entirely possible that all the over thinking was for nothing, since he hadn’t called except for a quick text on Sunday thanking me for the date.
Ugh, who does that?
So naturally, I’d been speculating. And I really shouldn’t have been speculating anything about Scott Weston. I should’ve been glad that he hadn’t suggested we see each other again. Or how he couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss and that he couldn’t wait to do so much more of that.
This should have been a huge relief. A dodged bullet. A way out.
Maybe in a few days I could change my voicemail greeting back to my common name, the one that everyone knew me by, instead of the generic, yet super professional nameless recording I’d switched it to after I’d given him my phone number.
At eleven thirty, I’d finally finished sending out pitches to old clients and even got a decent amount of research on my latest assigned project. I leaned back in my chair and threw a hand over my furious stomach, since coffee and half a chocolate frosted donut was about it for me early this morning. Perhaps some fuel would be a good idea right now. I reached into my tote bag searching for my wallet, but instead, pulled out my vibrating phone, the display making my stomach flip.
Scott.
I glanced around and crouched down in my chair before answering, feeling as guilty as though I’d been having an affair with the President. I evened my tone, “Just Isabel speaking.”
“How was the rest of your weekend?” There was a smile in his voice.
“Simple. Yours?” I answered honestly.
“Sunday is typically the only day of theweek I like to go dark...therefore complicated.”
I laughed. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Weston?” I smacked myself on the forehead. Marilyn Monroe’s voice and ‘Mr. President’ was clearly on my mind.
Why couldn’t I just have said, “what’s up?”It was like I was stupid pills when I talked to this man.
“I had a great time Saturday night, and I thought I’d tell you that.”
“Ahh...somehow you knew I’d be up all night thinkingabout it. Well thank you for the reassurance,” I teased.
“It’s my pleasure,” he said matter-of-factly.
I rolled my eyes.
