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“That’s just the thing. I’m terrible with planning events. My wife handles everything social in my life.” He pauses.
I feel suddenly heavy. Thoughts fire off left and right. The loudest is:and so you thought that, because I’m the token skirt on the team, I would be eager to plan the team’s social calendar?I don’t say it. In fact, I swallow the lump that’s suddenly in my throat. Instead, I say, “You’re lucky to have Eve to help you out with that,” and force a smile.
“It’s a decent budget.” His eyes bore into me. “So, I thought you might like to handle the planning?”
Answer, Jack. You have to give him an answer. Quickly now.
Finally, I do. “I’ll give it some thought over the weekend. If that’s okay?”
He stands, glances at his watch, and then to the door. “Awesome. The budget is $3,000 per person. Just the leadership team and me. We’ll need to do some team building or something too.”
My stomach plummets. He’s taken my answer as a yes, and there’s not much I can do now to change that direction. I open my mouth to say something as Geoff starts walking toward the door.
Before disappearing from the conference room, he calls over his shoulder, “If you find something, go ahead and put it on the company card.”
I slump back in the chair and pop upright again when his head pokes back inside.
“Oh, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Put some time on my calendar on Monday to chat about what you decide.”
Left alone in the fanciest of LivFit’s conference rooms, I fight the urge to get up, pace around the room, and rant like a mad woman. How dare he? That’s the most condescending, sexist point of view I’ve heard in a long time. I thought the diversity team was working to eradicate that kind of behavior but here I am. The only woman on an all-male team and assuming the position of Social Director. How stereotypical. I rarely even plan my own social calendar. My best friend, Mari, is the one dragging me all over San Francisco.
Speaking of Mari . . . I grab my phone off the desk and text: “Dartealing? I could use a strong tea about now.”
* * *
The crowd at Dartealing Loungetwo blocks from LivFit is already teeming, so I’m lucky to snag a small table with two Victorian-style chairs away from the majority of the crowd. Mari had a meeting that ran until five-thirty, so I order the first pot and wait alone for quite a while, watching the crowd. I finish my tea before my friend arrives and eat an orange slice from a plate of scones and fruits. The effects of the tea are warming my cheeks and easing my irritation over Geoff’s request—a little, at least.
The waiter, a tall and skinny young man with a full-sleeve tattoo covering his left arm and black bangs that keep falling in his eyes, has checked on me a little too frequently and returns as soon as he sees my empty cup. He picks up the pot to pour some more. “The oranges are super sweet right now. Can I get you some more?”
“I think I should wait for my friend to arrive.”
“A water?”
“That’d be great. Thanks!” I look down at my phone to see if Mari’s texted. Nothing.
The waiter, who I think is leaving, doesn’t. His voice sounds a bit husky when he starts to ask his next question but can’t quite spit it out. “Is your friend a . . .”
He’s cute. Nervous and awkward and probably six years my junior. I glance at his name tag and give him a sad smile. “Ah, Ryan.” I hate this but dating him or anyone is not in my plans at the moment. Not to mention how limited his experience likely is. After the string of college boyfriends who usually headbutted me before they found my lips to kiss, I’m just not into guys. Maybe that’ll change someday, or maybe I’ll find someone whose kisses sweep me off my feet. I’m only twenty-eight. So, I have plenty of time. “My friend is—”
“—is here.” Mari dashes around the waiter, saving me from the awkward situation.
Ryan straightens. “Oh. In that case, can I bring you another round of tea?” When I nod, he asks my friend, “A cup for you?”
“Totally. Bring me what she’s having.” When Ryan starts to leave, she calls after him. “Hey, honey. I’m famished. I’m ready to order food too.” She glances at me. Sparkles light her bright blue eyes. “You ready?”
I nod as she opens the menu and order. “I’ll take the smoked salmon sandwich.”
Mari closes the menu and hands it to Ryan. “Bring me the roast beef and blue sandwich.” When he leaves, she drapes her napkin in her lap, leans on her elbow on the arm of the chair, and lets out a loud sigh.
I grimace at her order. “How in the world do you put beef and blue cheese in your mouth?”
She sweeps her blonde hair over one shoulder with an eye roll. “I’m a carnivore, love. Not everyone swears off meat like you.”
“I eat meat.”
