by S Bolanos
“Please, let me give you a hand,” he insisted. I blinked as I realized he already had everything. His voice brought my attention back from the folders he held to him. “Now, where were you headed?” He wore a broad smile, his eyes dancing with the hint of levity I’d detected earlier.
“You… I mean marketing.” I stamped down the pending blush, determined not to make any more of an ass out of myself.
“Are these the analytics reports about the new proposed focus group?”
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
“Perfect. Max has been waiting for those. I’m headed that way already. I can walk with you.”
I reluctantly began to move as I realized he wasn’t going to give me back the folders. We’d only gone only taken a few steps when he spoke again.
“Your hair is down.”
I had a clear vision of someone who’d been left out in a windstorm. “I must’ve forgotten to pull it back this morning.” It was a small fib. I hadn’t forgotten anything; I’d simply been too tired to try.
“It looks nice.”
Mildly shocked, I kept my gaze forward, thankful to find we were at Max’s office so I could be done with this painfully awkward encounter. Instead of leaving me and the reports to face Max on our own, Michael opened the door and stepped inside.
“Hey, Max, this is Sara from PR with those reports you wanted,” Michael casually proclaimed, placing his stolen stack on the already covered desk.
How does he know I'm from PR? Half the office doesn’t even know we have a PR department.
“It’s about time.” Max grabbed the folders and immediately started flipping through them. I caught Michael’s nod toward the door, took the hint, and hobbled back out.
Outside of Max’s office, Michael tried to assure me. “Don’t mind Max. It’s the end of the quarter and accounting is breathing down our necks about the budget.” Before I could formulate a response, he asked, “Are you doing anything for lunch?”
“Not really.” The honesty slipped out before the implications had a chance to take hold.
God, he’s gonna think I’m like the rest of the office floozies throwing myself at him.
“Perfect, then how about you meet me and some of the department at the deli across the street at one?”
“Okay.”
What am I doing?
“Great, I’ll see you later.” Someone called his name and he turned to address them. I seized the advantage and toddled away as fast as I could.
Charline is never going to believe this. I barely believe this.
The sounds of bustling downtown Raleigh dwindled to a muted roar as the deli door swung shut behind me. I took in the red vinyl booths and quaint tables, amazed that I’d never been here before.
I really need to get out more.
The bell over the door dinged again, announcing the arrival of another patron while I perused the occupants for a familiar face. I shook my head when I came up wanting.
Should have known better. People like Michael Howell don’t talk to people like me.
“You made it.”
My whole body erupted in goosebumps. “Yeah,” I replied awkwardly as I glanced behind him. “Where’s everyone else?”
“They bailed.” He shrugged his substantial shoulders, then led the way to the counter. “Have you been here before?” I shook my head. “In that case, you have to try the roast beef. It’s the best in town.”
“I was thinking more like the turkey club,” I said, not sure if it was possible to sound blander.
Michael’s face crumpled into a confused scowl. “I feel duty-bound as a regular to inform you that you’d be making a terrible mistake.”
“But—”
“Ramero is known for his roast beef. It’d be an insult to the man not to at least try it,” he finished.
“Fine,” I said with a defeated huff and a radiant grin instantly stretched across his face. I mentally rolled my eyes at how quickly I’d caved while he turned to the counter to order.
“Two roast beefs…rare…with everything,” he said to the man in a white apron behind the counter.
“No onions on mine,” I spoke up. Michael flashed me a satisfied smirk before turning back to the man.
“One with no onions, please,” he added, the undercurrent of amusement undeniable. “Thanks, Bill.” Order made, he promptly paid for both and steered me to a table.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I protested, gesturing ineffectually at the purse slung across my body.
“My treat,” he said and took a seat. “Consider it a welcome back to the office.” He smiled as I slumped into my own wooden chair unsure how to respond to his generosity.
Within minutes, our food arrived. Michael glanced at his plate then at mine. Before I could ask, he leaned over and switched our trays.
“That’s better,” he said, then took a sizable chomp that liberated several slices of onion.
The plate in front of me contained a masterpiece of a sandwich that boasted piled slices of the supposedly famous roast beef as well as lettuce, tomatoes, some kind of suspect sauce, and side of chips.
How does he expect me to eat this monstrosity?
I grappled with the heaping sandwich and raised it to my mouth, then took a hesitant bite, followed by a more enthusiastic one.
“Your thoughts on Ramero’s beef?”
“It’s great!” I took another huge bite while he chuckled into his water.
“Told you it was the best.”
“Mm, you don’t understand, I don’t even like roast beef,” I admitted and snatched a napkin in time to rescue my blouse from the dripping juices.
“I guess that’s changing.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
“Glad it meats your approval,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “You’re one of those people that can make a pun out of anything, aren’t you?”
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I have my moments. I’d be happy to supply more hefty puns for your amusement.”
“No, please, spare me.” I wiped my mouth then placed the used napkin on my crumb-free plate.
“It kind of works out that the others bailed, it gives us a chance to catch up. I feel like we never talk,” he said as he polished off the last chip.
Probably because until earlier, I didn’t know you even knew my name.
He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the small table and I resisted the urge to mirror him. “Tell me, do y’all have the same problems with Accounting that we do?”
I snatched at the topic with the desperation of a drowning person for a life raft. “Absolutely. And as if that isn’t bad enough, I get to hear all about the budget problems from Charline’s boyfriend.”
I can’t believe how easy this is. I can almost imagine that lunch dates are something we do all the time.
Date? What am I thinking? This is a pity lunch, nothing more.
“She’s dating—what’s his name? Ted.” He snapped his fingers as it came to him and I gave a small jump. “Talk about no reprieve.”
“No kidding. If I’d wanted to be that involved in numbers, I would’ve become an accountant myself.” He laughed and I smiled.
Casual, I can do casual. Besides, it isn’t like he can hear my heart pounding, no matter how loud it sounds to me.
“So, Max seemed really stressed,” I prodded.
“He has been since our last projections were off.”
“I didn’t hear anything about that.”
“We like to keep department mistakes inside the department,” he said with a wink.
“I could see how that would be beneficial.”
I’m the picture of ease. Now if only my stupid heart would stop fluttering every time he looks at me.
“It keeps the rumor mill down.” I snorted at the mention of the mill. No doubt it had been running full force since I’d told Charline about my lunch plans. “That’s right. Your fr
iend is the unofficial Chief of the Busybodies. To be honest, I’m a little surprised she’s with Ted. She’s so…”
“Beautiful?” I supplied. My deluded heart sank. So much for my be-nice-to-the-injured-girl theory.
“Animated. He’s kind of a stick in the mud.” To be fair, I’d said as much to Charline myself. Maybe this wasn’t some ploy to get closer to my best friend. “Today’s your first day back, right?” He asked unexpectedly.
All of my ease sprouted wings and flew right out the door. “Yeah...” Talking about work was one thing, talking about myself was another, even dealing with a possible romantic interest in my friend would be preferable.
“You don’t look half as roughed up as everyone said you were.” The openness of his face did nothing to ease the tension now running rife through my body.
“I guess that’s a good thing. The doctor says I’m healing quickly,” I added. Sweat coated my hands. I wiped them on my slacks beneath the table.
“I’m glad. I heard it was a stray dog. That true or another product of the rumor mill?” He laughed like he knew it had to be the latter.
My unease ratcheted up another level. Pieces of my discarded napkin came away in tiny bits beneath my restless fingers. “Actually, it was, so that’s one thing they got right.”
His smile faltered. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It can be difficult separating truth from gossip sometimes.” He glanced down at his wrist. “It’s almost two. We should probably start heading back. I’m sure Max has gone through enough of those reports by now. He’ll be looking for me.”
“Does that happen often?” I asked, pouncing on the change in topic.
“Nearly every day. I swear, there are weeks I’ve done the exact same work for him four or five times. Oh well, what can you do?” He pushed back from the table and stood.
Back in shallow waters, the tension drained out of me and my breath came easier. I followed his lead and continued the conversation as we crossed back to the office together. “I know what you mean. Sometimes when I give a report, I feel like I might as well be talking to myself.” We reached the elevator and he stopped. “You coming?” I asked.
He gestured over his shoulder. “I have another errand to run. But what do you say we meet up for lunch again in a couple of days? Say Thursday? There’s a burger joint around the corner I think you’ll like.”
“I like burgers.” I mentally clapped a hand over my mouth. Once again, it had run ahead of my brain. I’d barely survived lunch today, what made me think I’d do any better a second time?
For the love of God, Sara, think before you speak.
“Perfect. See you around.” The elevator arrived and I stepped inside. An awkward beat went by where we stared at each other in silence. The doors closed and my calm evaporated into a full-on freak out.
4
Storm Moon
“Look at you! No crutches!” Charline exclaimed as I pushed past several people in the living room to pop free in her kitchen.
“I gave those up days ago.” Truth be told, the incident with Michael had convinced me to immediately abandon the pretense of needing them. Four days later, I was happy to report I did not regret that decision. “Now, where do you want this?” I waved a bottle of her favorite Malbec.
“Um…” She spun in place, assessing the cluttered kitchen. “You could try to make some room on the counter, or…you could stack it on top of the fridge.” She tapped her lip thoughtfully, then her gaze snapped back to me. “Hey! You’re wearing the outfit I picked out.”
I did a brief swish in the blue cocktail dress that I'd literally only worn because I knew it would make her happy. It was subtle enough that I didn’t feel too self-conscious, but with enough glitz to appease even the glamorous Charline. Of course, it didn’t hold a candle to the flamenco-inspired red number wrapped around her hourglass figure. She did a swish of her own and her frills threatened to overturn some precariously placed hors d’oeuvres. There was enough food in here to feed an army and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she’d made every last bit of it from scratch.
“It seemed appropriate given the occasion. I’ll take care of this. You get back to your guests. And who knows, if we don’t get to it tonight, we can have our own little party later.”
“Damn straight,” she said before sweeping out of the kitchen and into the crowd that had amassed in her living room. I peered after her, more than a little daunted by the press of bodies and unfamiliar faces.
She really went all out with this party.
I glanced at the counter where I'd been told to make room. An impossible task, as it was currently dominated by an array of miniature quiches and deviled eggs waiting to refill the table in the other room.
She must’ve been up all night getting this together.
I swiped an egg, placed the bottle on top of the fridge, then considered my options. Parties may not have been my thing, but I wasn’t here for me, I was here for Charline. I took a deep breath and launched myself into the swirl of colorfully dressed people.
After a bit of searching, I caught sight of some of my acquaintances from HR that I really only knew through Charline, as well as a handful of familiar faces from other departments.
Should have invited Michael.
I blinked, a little surprised at the wayward thought.
We’ve had lunch once and now I’m considering inviting him places? Way to put the cart before the horse, Sara.
I tossed back the last of my wine and ventured back into the kitchen to pour another glass and enjoy a brief reprieve from the press of bodies. Only my refuge seemed to have been invaded by an overflow of party guests. Rather than jockey for personal space, I found a vacant corner of the formal dining space to the side of the living room and resumed my people watching.
I spotted a few more familiar faces, but none worth braving the horde. Someone guffawed loudly, drawing the ire of a cluster of women dressed to kill in stilettos that looked like skyscrapers and skirts that aspired to the same heights. I plucked absently at the chiffon of my own dress.
Perhaps it’s best I didn’t invite Michael. Definitely can’t compete with that.
I pushed away from my perch, eager to find a different source of entertainment. The entire world tilted and I stumbled forward. I pressed a shaking hand to my temple as if that could somehow make the room hold still and took a few, deep breaths until the colors stopped swimming. My gaze fixed on the half-empty wine glass in my hand.
I could’ve sworn I’ve only had two of these.
I looked around at the myriad of curious faces as I discarded the glass. It rocked dangerously on the dining table then settled.
Why am I here? These are all Charline’s friends, or at least people pretending to be.
I searched the room for any sign of my friend. Colors and faces blurred together and I swayed once again. My nails scraped on the wallpaper as I sought to steady myself. I blinked past the haze and dragged in another deep breath.
Definitely time to go. Now where is Charline?
I found her chatting animatedly with some coworkers and gripping Ted’s arm as though she feared he’d bolt if she let go. Judging by the look on his face, that seemed a very real probability. I didn’t understand what she saw in him. He never smiled, laughed, or even went to lunch with us. If I didn’t belong here, he belonged even less.
I took a step towards Charline and had to push through a sudden cluster of people that materialized in my path. By the time I was clear of them, Ted had vanished. As had Charline.
Good grief. Now what am I supposed to do? She’ll kill me if I leave without saying goodbye.
I sighed heavily and scanned the crowd for literally anyone to talk to while I waited for her to reappear. It came as no surprise, that once again, I came up empty.
Could always sneak outside and call my dads back.
Maybe if I call while surrounded by people, it will lend more believability when I say I’m fine.
The more I
thought about it, the more going outside seemed like the best idea. Between the wine and oppressive mass of people, my head was pulsing as if my heart was up there rather than in my chest. I desperately scanned the horde for the hostess and was rewarded with Charline’s distinct copper waves bobbing through the crowd. A sigh of relief trailed after me as I made a beeline for her.
“Having fun?” she asked, grooving in time to the music.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Where’s Ted?”
“Oh, he and some of his buddies got caught up talking about some depreciating something or other, so I left them to it. Hey, you alright?”
I closed my eyes against a wave of nausea. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well all of a sudden.” I pressed a hand against my stomach in a vain attempt to steady it.
Charline’s face clouded with concern. “Let’s step outside. Get some fresh air.”
I nodded in agreement and let her navigate the sea of people. The back door stood like a beacon before us when Ted called out to Charline.
“It’s nothing, sweetie!” she responded over her shoulder. “Sara’s not feeling well.”
“He going to be alright without you?” I asked as we emerged into the cool night. The noise from inside diminished to a muted cacophony and the chill breeze felt like a kiss on my flushed skin. Twinkle lights sparkled around the small patio adding an ambiance lost to the chaos inside.
I should have come out here sooner.
“Don’t fret. He can survive a few minutes on his own.” She glanced back towards the house. “You’re not the only one the crowd bothers,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.
We walked off a short distance to get away from the handful of people that had spilled outdoors. I took a deep breath and looked up at a night sky spotted with stars. “Where’s the moon?” I asked.
“I guess it hasn’t risen yet. It’s supposed to be a full moon.” Her hair shone copper in the twinkle lights as she leaned back to stare up at the sky. “I think it’s either called a Snow Moon or a Storm Moon. I prefer Snow Moon personally.” She let out a wistful sigh and returned her attention to me. “Can you believe Ted and I have been dating for six months? I think this might really go somewhere. You know?” The hope in her voice was telling. Charline didn’t have a good track record where her romantic life was concerned.