Pick me up at 7
I have it typed out. Did it the moment he walked out of my office an hour ago, actually. All I need to do is hit send, but for some reason I haven’t. Why does it feel so scary to hit send? I wanted to take him up on the date when he offered, but something in my brain started panicking that it was too real.
I invited him to come here to try those drinks on a whim. The sole idea of getting to talk to him had me sending that message yesterday without a second thought. Granted, the thought of it being for the party completely justified it in my head, even though deep down it was just an excuse to see if talking to him was just as enjoyable as the last time.
Spoiler alert: it was. What’s one date? There’s a reason I’ve worked this job for so long, shadowing every position in preparation. I’ve worked so hard to make sure I can stand on my own outside my father’s shadow. The second-guessing feelings I have over Jensen leaving aside—I know I’m running this place just as efficiently as any man, if not better.
I’ve turned down countless men asking for dates because of my career aspirations. Anyone that I did say yes to wasone Adam so easily called out—the ones who can’t handle my confidence. The ones with a guaranteed stamp of a good time and no future.
Then Adam Reyer emails me about a party, and suddenly I’m not wanting to turn him down. It gives me this gut feeling of the right person, right time—which has to be where this scared-as-hell feeling is coming from.
I’ve mapped out so much of my life in order for it to lead me right here. But now it just feels like loose plans…the typical find a man, have a family when timing is right for both of us. I hadn’t expected to find someone I liked right off the bat. I halfway thought I’d still be using the career excuse for dates for a while, but boy, does that excuse sound extremely stupid for turning down Adam.
“Mia, do you have a minute?” Jensen’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and I quickly lock my phone, setting it to the side.
“For you, always,” I say, grateful for the distraction.
Jensen leans back in her chair. “So, how was your meeting with Adam?”
Dammit, so much for that.
“Fine.” I keep all my reactions in check. Calm. Completely unfazed by the hot baseball player that I really want to see tonight. “I think the nonalcoholic drinks will be a good addition?—”
“Cut the shit, Mia. You know that’s not what I was asking.” This snarky smile comes to her face.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“I don’t recall you being very forthcoming when I was snooping about you and Beck.”
“Ah, sothere isa you and Adam for me to snoop about. Just what I was hoping for.”
“No, no, I meant—” I can feel my face turning bright red. My word, this man has me all messed up. “He’s nice to talk to, okay? It’s no big deal.”
Jensen tilts her head with this smirk that says it all. “Huh, so funny, that’s exactly what Adam said last night when I caught him texting you.”
And she’s got me. “He said what?”
Jensen’s smirk only grows. “Well, after nearly turning the same shade of red you are right now, he tried brushing you two texting off as ‘not a big deal.’”
Not entirely sure why hearing the wording stings a bit, imagining Adam being the one saying it, but it is true. “Well, there you go,” I say, hoping that’s the end of it.
“Now, he said that last night, but showed up this morning smelling amazing with fixed hair and a trimmed face. Mia, all of those men live in ball caps—he was trying to impress you.”
I let out a breath. He definitely did.
For a second, I debate talking to Jensen about going on the date tonight with Adam, but instead I opt for a taste of her own medicine and give her a shrug.
Jensen stands up, mumbling some Spanish under her breath, before tossing her hands up. “Fine, suit yourself. Something tells me I’ll get similar hints as to how it’s going as I gave you.”
I snort. “Don’t expect to see a hickey on my neck anytime soon.”
Jensen lets out a laugh, pausing at the doorway. “We’ll see about that.”
Shaking my head, I look at the spreadsheet on my desktop for a total of two seconds before pulling my phone back out.
It’s not a big deal, right? He said that himself. We could go and find out that we’re actually better as friends. We could havepossibly played up this chemistry…here in my office…Christ, that’s not it.
I stare at the unsent message. This is ridiculous. I’ve never once gotten this worked up over a man. With a deep breath, I hit send.
