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My stomach rumbles. So loudly, you could probably hear it a mile away.
Liam looks up from his computer. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” I admit with a flush. It’s 7:30pm, and outside, the sky is a swirl of pink and orange as the sun descends on the city.
The past two hours have gone by so fast. After Liam showed up with our coffees (and, quite incredibly, two packages of Haribos), I bit the bullet and walked him through some of my plan.
It’s nerve-wracking to tell someone where you think they went wrong with the first version of an app they created. But Liam listened intently and took notes as I presented my ideas. He seemed thoughtful, like he had follow-up questions, but he didn’t interrupt me once. He just let me talk.
Strange as this might sound, it was empowering. Which is lame when you consider that all he did was listen. But as a woman in the tech world, I’ve been subjected to countless interrupters, mansplainers, and people who are just downright dismissive. I honestly didn’t realize how much it bothered me until tonight, when my boss—a man who had the power to be any of those things—was instead respectful and attentive. Let me speak.
And apparently, let my stomach speak for me.
“Want to get some food?” Liam offers as he leans back in his desk chair. He’s undone the top button of his shirt and taken off his tie—something I have never seen him do in the office before. “We could grab a quick bite and I’ll ask you my questions.”
He turns his computer screen to show me the detailed list he’s typed out. I laugh. “That might take all night.”
“I have all night.”
His eyes go wide after he speaks, and we look at each other for a long moment, the implication of his flippantly-meant words not lost on either of us.
A beat later, he averts his eyes and adds, “I mean… I have a couple of hours, max. Better get home at some point.”
“Me too. People to see, scarves to knit,” I blabber. I’m still thinking about those dark eyes of his. About the fact that he has so many questions about my plan, but waited for me to finish without interrupting.
Such a small gesture can make such a big difference.
Or maybe, after Justin, my bar is just really, really low.
Either way, it’s made Liam go up even more in my mental estimation. Right now, the scorecard is having a hard time balancing because, on the one hand, he’s scowly and surly and impatient. But on the other hand, I’ve seen him this week with his employees, and he may be curt and to the point, but when it comes down to it, he treats everyone with respect.
And here he is, considering my rumbling stomach. Which is actually the last thing I want him to be thinking about.
He must think I’m one big bodily-function of a person.
And, right on schedule…
GRRumble.
Liam lifts a brow. “So, food break?”
It really does sound good. One cannot live on caffeine and sugar alone, it turns out.
Maybe food will settle my stomach, which is churning with something suspiciously similar to butterflies. It’s just hunger, though. I’m not fluttery due to all this time spent with Liam. Not at all.
“Sure,” I manage, banishing any wayward thoughts to the dark, squelchy, seaweed-ridden cave of monsters from which they came.
“I know a good place, and it’s close.” Liam stands and buttons the middle button on his suit jacket. I try not to look at him—it’s an innocent gesture that shouldn’t make me feel anything.
I pull on my jacket. Today, I chose a fringey western number that looks cute with my Esmerelda-style skirt and hoop earrings. We probably look like chalk and cheese with our outfit choices, but as Liam and I step into the evening together, I find that I really don’t care. And I guess he doesn’t either.
It’s that magical, dusky time of day when the city looks like it’s got a filter over it: all shimmering golden lowlights and textured shadows. I breathe in a gulp of air as we walk in silence for a few minutes.
Yup, I can do silence. I can definitely do silence.
Nooo big deal….
