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Regina startles me half to death when she abruptly bounces out of her seat. “Now that we’ve settled that, how about we wrap this early? I have a date to get to. Really sweet microbiologist I met at the pharmacy. Great chemistry between us.” She mutters under her breath. “And lord knows Momma’s gotta get laid.”
“But, I—wait!—I’m not done!”
She’s barely even listening to my protests. The woman is running around the room, looping a scarf around her neck and packing up her boho style purse. Before I know what’s happening, she’s hustling me toward the exit like we’re in the middle of a fire drill.
“Well at least one of us is getting some,” I grumble from the doorway.
“Honey, there’s two-hundred and twenty-five pounds of hot football player just dying to make you scream his name. Yup, you could be getting some, too.” She waves and disappears, swinging the door shut in my face.
12
NADIA
I’m walking out of a meeting with our marketing department when my phone chimes with a new notification. I cringe internally, hoping it’s not the revisions on our latest brand licensing agreement coming in so soon. My schedule is slammed today.
Swiping across my screen, I unlock my phone. And my heart catapults into my throat when I see Harry’s name attached to the text message I just received.
I guiltily glance around the hallway to see if the administrative assistants gossiping by the water cooler somehow noticed my visceral reaction. Inwardly, I scold myself. Seeing a new text message from Harry shouldn’t have this effect on me.
But he’s had my phone number for two—three, actually—days. He hasn’t called or messaged me before now. I’d sort of been expecting him to immediately flood my voice box and overrun my text messages the second I gave him my number. I hate admitting to the faint sense of disappointment I felt over not hearing from him sooner. I thought he said he liked me?
Stop it, Nadia. You don’t actually want him to like you. Remember?
My feelings have been confusing the heck out of me these last few days. I know I shouldn’t think about him half as much as I do. Especially not late at night. Especially not when I’m in bed. Especially not when I’ve got my blankets pulled up to my chin and I’m coming all over the hand that’s moving frantically between my legs. But more and more, I just can’t get the man out of my mind.
God. I should know better.
Anyway, I clear my throat, I steel my spine and I tap on Harry’s message to open it.
And I burst out laughing.
My uproar earns me a few raised eyebrows and questioning looks from the gossipy administrative assistants. But I ignore them, quickly ducking into my office and shutting the door.
I plop my butt on the edge of my desk and tap on each of the photos attached to Harry’s message. With a palm slapped over my mouth, I snort-chuckle as I enlarge them each in turn. Then browse through them a third time.
In the first image, he’s wearing a goofy grin, arms spread wide as he proudly showcases a purple, mirror-shine tuxedo with a yellow bowtie covered in little red ducks.
In the next photo, he’s wearing red plaid from head to toe.
My eyes flick to the messages accompanying the photos.
HARRY: Option A or Option B
HARRY: I also have a powder blue prom tuxedo I could wear (if I get it back from the dry cleaners in time)
HARRY: Take your pick, Dream Girl
My stomach goeswhoosh!Just like it does every time he calls me that.Dream Girl.Is this guy for real? What does he even mean by that?
All of a sudden, I’m not thinking straight. I want to talk to him. That’s why I mindlessly hit the ‘call' button on my phone.
Oh, god. What am I doing?
Instead of just answering my voice call like a regular person, Harry switches to video call. Of course he does.
I find myself frantically finger-combing my hair and blotting that spot on my forehead that tends to look a bit shiny on video. Again, I have to scold myself, reminding myself that I don’t want to impress Harry Westbrook.
When I hit the ‘answer’ button, his smiling face fills my screen, bright fluorescent lights shining down from overhead. “Hey.” His chocolate eyes twinkle at me.
