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Conor: Hard copies? Come in handy? Have you any idea the willpower I’m expending not to make twenty million dirty jokes right now?
Yvonne: You’re right. I should conserve my battery. Goodnight Conor.
Conor: ‘Night, Yvonne.
Yvonne: Guess what? I found the champagne! I’m at work. Can you drop over to collect it today?
Conor: My hero! Thank you so much. I can’t collect it today but I’ll find time this week and let you know.
Yvonne: Okay, no problem. I’ll be in my office every day until the 24th.
***
Conor and I texted back and forth in the weeks running up to Christmas. Mostly friendly banter. I knew I shouldn’t be communicating with him so often, but honestly, it was hard to resist. I loved talking to him, even about mundane stuff. We asked how each other’s day had gone, did we catch the latest episode ofBlack Mirror, did that electricity cut hit his neighbourhood too, if I’d found the champagne yet.
It was only a few days before Christmas when I finally texted him that I had procured the elusive bottle. It sat on a shelf in my office in a fancy matte black box with gold trim. Conor had been too busy to come collect it and I had been too rushed off my feet with the club to drop it off at his place.
I was typing a response to a work email when someone knocked on the door. Kylie poked her head in. “Hey, do you want to run out and grab a bite to eat? It’s relatively quiet now but it’s going to get crazy later.”
I blinked. “Food. Right, good idea.” I’d been ignoring my stomach rumbles for hours.
“Great. See you in a bit,” Kylie chirped and I pushed away from my desk, pulling my hair out of the chignon I’d put it up in earlier. It fell around my shoulders in soft waves as I rubbed away some of the tension at the back of my skull.
I loved my job, loved being busy and solving whatever problems came my way, but even I could admit that running an establishment likeFESTduring Christmas in New York was taking its toll. My stomach gurgled again and I went to grab my handbag, the box with Conor’s champagne catching my eye.
His parents would be arriving in a day or two. I needed to get this to him before they landed and this might be my last opportunity. Also, his office was a manageable walk from the club. I could pick up some food and drop the champagne off on my way back.
Pulling out my phone, I shot off a quick message.
Hey! Are you at your office? I’m on my break and going to grab food. I can drop the champagne off on my way. Or if you aren’t there I can leave it with your assistant?
Conor hadn’t mentioned an assistant but if he was the COO of a multi-million dollar fragrance company then there must’ve been someone assisting him. I left the club, buttoning up my thick winter coat and tucking in my scarf as I stepped out into the frosty December chill. I’d only taken a few steps when my phone buzzed with a response.
Yes, I’m in my office. Just tell them my name at the front desk and they’ll let you in. My office is number 402, seventeenth floor. You’re a life saver! Thank you!
I smiled. There was something frazzled about his response that made me suspect he’d been so busy today he probably hadn’t a chance to think about food.
Are you hungry? I’m going to a deli for matzo ball soup. I can get you some, too, if you like?
It was a friendly offer, nothing more. I mean, it wasn’t like he could read anything into an offer of soup, right? At least that was what I thought until his response came.
Oh my God, just marry me already.
My heart stuttered and I almost tripped over my own feet as I read it. A moment later another message arrived.
Sorry. Got a little carried away there, lol. Yes, that sounds amazing. I let my assistant have an extra few days off to visit family so I’ve been fending for myself all week.
Then another.
All this to say, I’m starving!
Okay, so he was being silly. That was fine, though it made my pulse ratchet up a notch nonetheless. I tried not to read too much into it, but it was hard not to let my mind run away with me, asking ridiculous, fanciful questions like,What would it be like to be married to a man like Conor? To sleep in the same bed and wake up with him every morning?
It took a minute for me to calm down enough to reply.
Okay, no need for a proposal! It’s just soup. See you in a few :-)
With that I put my phone away and headed for the deli. By the time I reached Conor’s office building my feet were aching. It served me right for walking so far in heels. The security guard let me in after I gave my name and I headed up in the lift.
