“How was the call? Please tell me we landed a pitch meeting.” I press my palms together and give Viv the biggest, best puppy-dog eyes I can muster.
With a dramatic sigh, Viv draws her wavy auburn hair into a butterfly clip. “Would you expect anything less?” She brushes off her shoulder, like we used to do in high school.
I jump up, squealing. We do a quick happy dance together before she sits me back down and pulls out her notebook filled with chaotic notes that make sense to her and her alone.
“Okay, so with this timeline, you’re going to have to offload some of your work to Cori.”
That’s going to be a no from me. “I’m not on board with that. I can get it all done, trust me.”
“I know you can, but only at the expense of your sleep and general well-being. You need to share the workload, Liv. This client is massive. Give the work you can do in your sleep to Cori—she deserves it and can do the job. This way you can pour your beautiful little heart into knocking this thing out of the park.”
Groaning, I roll my eyes and drop my face into my hands, ready to make another argument. “I can?—”
“Liv.” There’s no wiggle room for argument. She’s right. We both know it.
“Fine.”
“Fantastic. I’ll send her in. Oh, hey, thanks for grabbing the coffee again. It’s my turn tomorrow!” Viv says as she stands.
“I’m happy to go again tomorrow,” I say, a little too quickly, sparking Viv’s spidey senses.
Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing me, but I’m glued to the computer screen, refusing to look directly at her. Viv gasps with a dramatic intake of air.
“You have something you’re not telling me!” She plants herself back in the chair.
“No, I don’t. I just?—”
“Spill it!”
Trying to hide anything from Viv is impossible. She’s like a damn bloodhound.
“There was a hot guy in the coffee shop. I blocked his way to the bathroom.”
Her whole body seems to vibrate with misplaced excitement. “Say less!” she says, waving her hands frantically in front of her. “Girl, you can get coffee for the rest of theweekif it means you’ll talk to him.”
Talk to him? No. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just enjoy staring at him from a distance—if he’s even there again, which he probably won’t be. He did have a really nice voice, though. It was so…rugged.”
“Well, that sounds sexy as hell. We’ll call him”—Viv taps her chin—“Coffee Shop Hottie. If he’s there tomorrow, please talk to him. What have you got to lose?”
I scoff.
“Want me to go with you? I can knock over his coffee cup and offer to have you wash his shirt for him… back at your place.” Her eyebrows jump, a conspiratorial look on her face.
“Oh, goodness, absolutely not.” I hide behind my hands, taking a deep breath before leveling my gaze at her.
“Fine, then you’ll just have to do it all on your own.”
I say nothing. She waits, the silence stretching.
“You’re not going to talk to him, are you?”
Sighing, I redirect my attention back to her. “I don’t have time for distractions, Viv. We have a pitch to plan.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll Venmo you for the coffee.”
The streets are alive with people heading out for Friday happy hour. Restaurants have opened their outdoor dining areas alongside the warmer weather, and delicious smells, music, and laughter drift on the breeze. I stop on the corner, waiting for the crossing signal right in front of the open-door flower shop, allowing the sights, smells and sounds to drown out my thoughts.
I grab the mail when I enter my building and hike the six flights to my apartment. I got a great deal on the rent because I was willing to overlook the fact that there isn’t an elevator. Like, at all. So, this walk-up has become my daily workout. I have a minor obsession with croissants, and hiking up these stairs every day allows me to indulge. It’s called balance.
