I clear my throat. “I’ll get started on that article for you, and check in at the end of the day.”
“I look forward to it,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the lust in his tone. It sets my heart racing and I can’t help but look back at him as I leave his office. He’s following me with his eyes and–oh fuck–I am so screwed.
Six
“First dates are always hard. It can be amazing, it can be terrifying, it can be exhilarating or disastrous. But there are a few things you can do to keep all of those adjectives on the positive side, starting with your expectations. Going on a first date is just a little bit like playing the lottery. You’re picking numbers at random hoping to win that one-in-a-million prize. In this case, the prize is love. But just like the lottery, while you should be hopeful, you should also be realistic.”
—Tips for a Good First Date, Heartmakers.com
I grab my phone off my desk as soon as I make it back to my office. In fact, I almost knock over my coffee because I’m in such a hurry. I text Alice a quick summary of what just happened. She texts back a stream of expletives and exclamation points and emojis. Then, words.
Are you sure?
Pretty damn sure. And I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m so into him. I told myself this morning that I couldn’t do this, that I couldn’t mess this up. And some other girls told me he that he doesn’t sleep with co-workers so I thought that everything was fine. But now there’s this! This is bad, isn’t it?
You’ve had this job for one day. And it’s the first job I can remember you ever having that you’ve liked. I know he’s hot but don’t throw it away for him.
You’re right. I know you’re right.
I am right. Love you!
I put the phone down on the desk. Get yourself together girl. It’s flattering that he has the same instinctual reaction to me that I’m having to him, but we can’t do this. It’s not a good idea. I take a sip of the coffee and I try the doughnut. Caffeine and sugar. Just what I need.
I can’t write this article if I’m constantly thinking about him and all the stuff we could do together. Pulling up the document from yesterday, I find the article pitch about first dates. It’s pretty simple, just a piece offering suggestions about avoiding the most obvious pitfalls of first dates. I can do that. I haven’t had a whole lot of really good first dates myself, as my blog can easily show. But I’ll give it my best shot.
I try to lose myself in the article like I did yesterday, but I can’t. Yesterday I used Chance and my fantasies about him to finish the article. If I do that today, I’m afraid that my brain will go down a path that I can’t come back from.
I start on the article, and it goes okay. It doesn’t flow the way the first one did, though. I get more coffee and try again. Usually when I’m having trouble writing a blog post, I leave it for a couple of days and come back. Or I take a few hours off and focus on other things. Here in the office I can’t really do that. I should find a few diversions to keep here for when I need a break. I’ve never worked in an office like this before, but I don’t think anyone could just write for eight hours straight.
Before I know it, it’s five o’clock, and I’m still not done with the piece. For whatever reason, I can’t find a good way to finish. I’ve gotten through most of it, but I’m not sure what to say about ending a date. There are so many variables, all based on how the date went, how attracted you are to the person, what kind of vibe you get from them. Dealing with all of the variables would make the article way too long and boring, but I can’t just skip the end of the night.
I’m stuck.
I don’t want to give up, but when I look up, an hour has gone by and I haven’t written anything else. I may just have to tell Chance that I need the night to think about the ending. But I’ll give it a few more minutes. Maybe there’s some hope that inspiration is just around the corner.
I swivel in my chair and look at the evening view. This time of summer the sun is still pretty high in the sky, but the city is glowing with the fading light. It’s reflecting off windows in shades of bronze and gold, and all of downtown Manhattan is sparkling.