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I moved to grab fruit from my fridge and a water bottle when he spoke again.
“Fine. Everything except body: she’s smart, and kind, a little odd but in a funny and cute way, successful on her own, and lastly, but most importantly, Mom's already in love with her. If you didn't like her so much, I’d probably ask her out.”
I stopped to look at him. “You like her?”
He shrugged. “Not as much as you do, and before you use me as an excuse not to date her, know that I said I would ask her on a date, not confess to being in love or anything like that. She’s a nice and pretty cool woman to be around. Of course, any straight male would want to go on a date with her. Just because you're blind doesn’t mean we all need to be.”
“We both just got out of pretty serious relationships. This could blow back up in our faces badly. Maybe we should wait longer before doing anything.” Anything more.
“If you know she likes you back, what are you waiting for? The people you both were in relationships with didn’t.”
I didn’t even want to think about it anymore. “Don’t eat all my cereal,” I told him, walking to the door.
“Don’t let her see the stingy part of you for a while—if you actually go for it.” He snorted to himself.
“I already did.” I grinned when his head whipped back to me, and I closed the door.
“Wait, what?” he yelled.
I knew he would follow, so I quickly got on the elevator. Just as it was about to close I heard her voice.
“Please hold! Thank you.” She came in, not even bothering to look up, cell phone in one hand while digging through her purse with the other. “No, I’m going to need double that amount of paint. Yes. Thank you so much. Also, can you get me the same art students as before? You're an angel with six wings, Suzy. Bye.” She hung up, taking a deep breath. “Thanks for holding the—” She stopped, turning toward me.
“You're welcome,” I said just as the doors opened at the ground floor.
“I thought you would already be at the hospital by now,” she said when I let her out first.
“My shift starts in twenty minutes. I’m usually early, but I’ll make it right on time.”
“Is it because of me? I messed up your schedule this morning, didn’t I?”
The reason I was running later than usual was because of her and our morning, but not the way she was thinking. “It’s fine, I promise. Ride with me to the hospital?” I asked her when my driver pulled up.
She looked at the town car, then at me. “You have a driver take you to work every morning?”
“Not every morning. How were you going?”
“The bus.”
“What kind of millionaire uses the bus in this city?” I opened the door for her.
She hesitated. I wasn't sure why.
“Aren’t you sore?”
“True,” she said, getting in.
Nodding to the driver, I took a seat beside her.
“Do you have rules?” she asked, putting on her seatbelt.
“Rules?”
She nodded. “Like not to talk to you at work? Or pretend we aren’t close, or—”
“Who has rules like that?” I knew who already.
She didn’t answer, just glanced out the window.
