by Becky Monson
Thanks for your help today. Any chance there are cupcakes leftover from yesterday?
I try not to get too caught up in how I honestly want to react here, which is spending forty-five minutes writing a one sentence reply. I need to reply now. So without thinking it over too much, I write this:
You’re welcome, anytime. Cupcakes are gone, I’m afraid. They never last past the first day.
I push the send button and wait, hoping for a reply. It doesn’t take too long for my computer to beep again.
I figured. Too bad. I was craving one. What can I say to convince you to bring some more?
I should say something witty here, right? Like “only just the promise of your firstborn.” But that’s stupid and contrived … Can’t I come up with something better? I have nothing though, no good reply. I’m rusty when it comes to bantering with the opposite sex. I reply quickly not allowing myself to overthink it.
No convincing necessary. I’ll bring some on Monday. :)
Crap. I just added the dreaded smiley face to the end of my email and hit send too fast before I could erase it. Stupid, stupid spinster. Not only that, I just essentially told him I have nothing better to do this weekend than make cupcakes. I seriously need to go back to over-analyzing everything. It’s better that way.
My computer beeps.
Excellent. That will make for a better Monday. ;)
Oh! Okay, he just sent back a smiley face, too—and a winking one at that. That means something, right? It’s like a flirty-smiley face. Or it could also be that the colon and the semi-colon buttons are on the same key and can easily be mixed up. Whatever. Clearly, I have some considerable reading into and over-analyzing of this little email chat.
Who needs to do work when there are so much more important things to do?
CHAPTER 5
It’s been two weeks since Jared and I had our lunch together, and we are now officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Oh yeah, and they found some unicorns in my parents’ backyard playing with Bigfoot and I also found a leprechaun with a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Okay, so, not so much.
Seriously though, Jared and I’ve started to become good friends, and it’s made work so much more exciting. I’m actually starting to find my place of employment enjoyable. Well, I still hate my job; that hasn’t changed. In fact, if it were possible, Mr. Nguyen has even gotten weirder. He’s such a loon. But that’s a whole other story and who’d honestly want to hear about that, anyway?
Let’s get back to Jared, which is so much more compelling. This is what I now know about Jared: He grew up in Colorado (like me—I think we might be soul mates, even though that’s actually the only thing we have in common, so far), he graduated in marketing with an HR emphasis, he loves his mom (so cute), his dad died when he was in college (so sad), he likes sports—especially football, his drink of choice is a Coke … and well, there are other details that I’ve figured out about him, but I’m feeling a bit on the stalker side right now so I’ll just leave it at that.
But there’s one extremely important thing about Jared: he loves to gossip. I know, totally gay, right? Brown and I (mostly Brown) were a bit suspicious of this incredibly good-looking guy with the most incredible smile, and his love for gossip. He’s been joining us sometimes during our breaks, and he’s very interested in the goods on the employees at Spectraltech. We were skeptical (mostly Brown) because we didn’t know him that well, and he does work in HR, but eventually we decided he seemed pretty trustworthy. Plus, it’s been quite fun having him around, if nothing else but to just look at. He doesn’t have much to offer in the way of gossip yet since he’s new and all, but that doesn’t matter because Brown and I have so much info that it’s taken us some time to catch him up. We’ve sort of taken him under our wings.
Anyway, Brown and I did have some gay suspicions. It was just too good to be true—his being hot and loving gossip. So we came up with a list—a list of reasons why Jared couldn’t possibly be gay. First of all, he’s too good-looking. This was quickly debunked because let’s face it, back in the day, George Michael was a total hottie and even though my dad swore up and down he was a “fruit,” I knew in my heart he couldn’t possibly be. He was going to wake me up before he go-goes, and we’d live happily ever after. I guess my gaydar is not hugely reliable.
The second reason Jared couldn’t possibly be gay is because he loves sports. Although that’s really just a stereo-type, I’m counting it.
He’s a big fan of the Denver Broncos and, lucky for me, my brother Lennon is a huge fan as well, so I happen to know a lot of stats and names and crap like that because Lennon used to bore me with them. Who knew all that information would eventually be useful? I must thank him for that.
The third, and most important reason Jared could not possibly be gay is because … Brown flat-out asked him. Leave it to Brown to say what is on her mind. When she asked, he looked at her like she was a complete idiot and seemed a little offended. He emphatically said no, and although he just might be an exceptionally good actor, it did seem as if he were being sincere. Plus—and Brown will attest to this—there has been a lot of flirty-flirty going on between him and me. So. Much. Fun. And honestly, quite unexpected for a spinster.
I’m not sure, but it might have to do with the fact that I’m now wearing makeup. Oh, yeah, totally forgot about that part. So, after the Hitler-lip incident, I did find myself wanting to wear some makeup. I mean, at the age of thirty-two, you’d think I would’ve started this years ago, but I just didn’t get into the whole makeup thing. I rarely wore it, and so I got used to how I looked without it and when I’d put some on, it didn’t look like me anymore. I guess every other time I had makeup on, it was too much because that day my mom put a bit on me, it opened up a whole new world.
So, I bought some. I did the unthinkable, though. I was going to ask Brown to help me pick some out, but I never got around to it. Then, it was the weekend, and so I asked … Anna (she happened to be home for a few days). Crazy, I know. I mean, Anna and I have never gotten along, ever. But the girl does know her makeup, and I was sort of desperate. I wouldn’t have been able to do it on my own.
I have to admit, it was actually kind of fun. I never realized Anna and I could have a conversation on a normal, non-bratty level, but apparently, we can. She loved helping me pick out makeup, and she was quite good at finding colors and tones that matched my skin and didn’t make me look like a hussy (which was my biggest stipulation). I suppose that one semester at beauty school rubbed off on her or something. I think we’ve finally found some common ground. I don’t know anything about fashion, but she thinks she’s the queen of it. Therefore, we are a good match. I even asked her to help me pick out some new clothes. We are going tonight.
I guess I’m starting to come out of my spinster shell. Don’t get me wrong, I still live in my parents’ basement, and I still have my cat … I’m still hating my job, and I have no boyfriend or social life or anything of the sort, except for the little bit of attention I’ve been getting from Jared, but that probably doesn’t truly count. I guess the only change is that I’m wearing makeup, and I’m buying new clothes. That does make me a little less spinster-ish, right? One step at a time, I suppose.
Getting back to the flirty-flirty between Jared and me, I wasn’t actually sure it was flirting because, as was stated before, I’m a bit rusty. There have been a few things here and there, and Brown has noticed some very obvious things which she has been quick to point out—after Jared leaves, of course—and then we discuss them at length like two little schoolgirls.
The other day something pretty huge happened. Well, it was huge for a spinster. The other day Jared caught me in the break room practically having a PMS breakdown over the soda vending machine. It ate my dollar, and I seriously needed a drink, a Dr. Pepper to be exact. He actually joined in on the kicking and fist-beating of the machine and even used his manly muscles (so sexy) to shake the machine, but there was no such luck. We finally gave up an
d, totally irritated, I met Brown downstairs for a break (sans Jared). I was still ticked about it when I traipsed back to my office, and when I got there, lo and behold, right there on my desk, was a Dr. Pepper. It was even ice-cold. Love. Him.
It took me about a half hour to compose an email to him about how much I appreciated that blessed Dr. Pepper. After many drafts, I ended up sending him one word, “Thanks.” After refreshing my email about one hundred times, I got a reply back that simply said “You’re welcome,” which I took as “Please have my babies.”
That’s flirting, right? I think it is. Brown even thinks it is. I don’t want to get my hopes up because it probably isn’t, not the kind of flirting I want it to be at least. And one day, I’m sure, he’ll show up at work engaged to some supermodel, and I’ll be devastated. I don’t want to be devastated so I must pretend in my head that he’s just a super-hot guy that simply wants to be my friend. I can deal with “friend.” Even though at night, when I’m home baking something, I’m thinking about him the whole time. And the other night, after watching Grey’s Anatomy, I gave him one of those “Mc” names … McManly. Because that’s truly what he is, manly and just too freaking cute.
I have mixed feelings about work today. Part of me doesn’t want the day to end because this is the only time I get to see Jared. The other part of me is excited for the work day to be over because I’m looking forward to going shopping. I’m not sure why I’m feeling excited, but I am. This past week Anna has lent me a few of her tops, just to mix it up a bit, and Brown, of course, had a complete (and unnecessary) cow about how excited she is that I’m wearing something other than my standard outfit.
Are my work clothes honestly that terrible? I suppose that’s the spinster in me because I really didn’t think they were horrible. What’s wrong with being practical? I guess Brown thought it was totally wrong because this morning on our break I told her I was going shopping tonight with Anna, and she said something like “there is a God” and looked to the skies as if she were actually thanking Him. Whatever.
Work has gone by slowly today. I’ve taken a few necessary walks around the building hoping to “accidentally” run into Jared. Okay, they weren’t necessary walks, but I pretended like they were. You know, just grabbed a couple of files and walked around the office as if I had somewhere to go. It didn’t work today like it usually does. Maybe he’s not even here. That thought just made my heart sink a little. How pathetic of me.
Suddenly there’s a beep from my computer telling me I have email and my heart skips a beat as I see “Jared Moody” in bold type. It’s addressed to both me and Brown.
Feel like a break? Downstairs in ten. –J
Now butterflies have started in my gut, and I’m getting a bit of a dry mouth. I hit reply and type “Sure!”, and then decide to erase the exclamation point to avoid sounding desperate. “Sure” with a period is much more laid back and cool as I’m trying so hard to be. I send my reply and then tap my fingers nervously on my desk. Ten minutes is not soon enough. I decide I’ll use that time wisely by working on a spreadsheet for Mr. Nguyen that’s due by the end of today. Yeah, right. I think my time will be better spent going to the bathroom and checking my makeup.
As I enter the bathroom with my lip gloss in hand, I step back and look in the full-length mirror on the wall. The soft pink button-up blouse I borrowed from Anna really does compliment my hair and eyes as she said it would. The slight bit of makeup I’m still not totally confident about applying correctly is still intact, thank goodness. I apply a little bit of lip gloss in just the way Anna taught me and then I adjust my black pencil skirt. Not bad for a spinster.
I make a quick trip to my office and drop off the lip-gloss. A slight bit of self-consciousness seeps in as I think about the lip-gloss and I feel like maybe I’m trying too hard. Brown knows me well enough to read my thoughts. I seriously hope Jared does not. I pray I’m not that transparent. Yes, I have a crush on Jared, and of course he doesn’t have one back because that just would not be possible. Cute guys don’t like spinsters, it’s in the spinster rule book, which hasn’t actually been written yet. But I’m pretty sure it is one of the rules, just under the rule about spinsters only having lasting relationships with cats.
I head downstairs. As I go outside, Brown is already waiting for us, cigarette in hand. Jared is not there yet.
The temperature is pretty warm, even after the snow we got over the weekend. The perfect run of spring weather we’d been having was totally ruined by snow. Denver weather is seriously schizophrenic. It’s warm, no wait it’s cold, no wait it’s warm again. Make up your mind already.
“I can’t get over how good you look,” Brown says as she sees me. “I should have gotten them to hire someone good-looking a while ago. Who knew it would have such an effect on you.”
“Shut up,” I say flatly and roll my eyes at her. “Besides, who says I’m doing this for some good-looking guy? Maybe I just needed a change.”
“Riiiiiiiiight,” she says, sarcastically. “Whatever you say, Jules.”
The door swings open and out comes Jared, eating one of my chocolate chip cookies. I put a plate of them in the break room earlier. My heart speeds up a bit at the sight of him and butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“Good stuff, Julia.” He points the partially eaten cookie at me, “What’s the secret?” He winks at me and the butterflies multiply.
“Like I’d tell you.” I fold my arms and lean up against the wall, trying to act like his presence isn’t making my heart pound in my chest.
“Come on …” he chides, knowing full well I’ll give in because I always do. He’s always interested in my little baking secrets.
“Okay, fine.” I give in way too quickly this time. “It’s my homemade vanilla, extra flour, and milk chocolate chips,” I say, and smile at him. “But I’m not telling you the measurements. I think you might be trying to steal my recipes.”
“Who me?” He feigns innocence and then he scrunches up his eyes at me, “Homemade vanilla? How do you make that?”
“It’s pretty easy.” I shrug my shoulders. “I just put about thirty vanilla bean pods into an expensive bottle of vodka, and then let it brew for about four months.”
He looks at me, clearly impressed, and I wonder how he could be impressed by that. But I’m glad he is.
“So what’s new, Jer?” Brown asks bringing attention to her. I had kind of forgotten she was there, actually. “Got any gossip for us?”
“Actually, I do today.” He smiles mysteriously.
“Really?” Brown and I say at the same time, shocked. He’s never offered any gossip before. What could he possibly have?
“Okay, but this is just between us.” He lowers his voice.
Brown and I look at each other and roll our eyes. Who else would we tell?
“Okay,” he pauses to look around to make sure no one else is there. “I think Mr. Calhoun and that Martha person in HR might have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on.” He nods his head and smiles conspiratorially at us like he’s just given us the juiciest gossip ever.
“Oh geez,” Brown says, and then leans back against the wall taking a drag from her cigarette.
“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to stay part of this group,” I say pointing between Brown and me.
“What? You guys already know?” He seems genuinely shocked this wasn’t news to us.
“Of course, we do,” Brown says, rolling her eyes at him. “We know everything around here, remember? We know all about your dirty boss and Martha. Now run along and try to dig up something better.” She shoos him away with her hand.
“I really thought I had something there,” he hangs his head in mock-shame. “I can’t compete with you guys.”
“I don’t even know why you bother trying,” I say, and smile.
It’s so fun having Jared around for our breaks. He’s adorable, and I really just want to grab him and make-out with him right here. Of co
urse, that would be a little awkward with Brown being here and all. Unfortunately, there’s also the issue that he wouldn’t reciprocate.
Jared looks up at me and smiles, and my heart skips a silly beat. “So, I had to get my computer fixed by Mike in IT this morning. What’s the word on him?” he asks as he eats the last bite of the cookie.
Brown gives him some info on Mike, which isn’t much. Mike kind of keeps to himself for the most part. Except for his love of the ladies with a little junk in their trunk—at least that’s the kind of girl he brought with him to the last Christmas party—we haven’t found anything scandalous. He’s pretty good at what he does and is quite busy with all the computer stuff that happens in an office the size of Spectraltech. I honestly don’t know how anyone would want to work in IT. I mean, it has to be the most mundane job in the world. Even accounting seems more compelling to me than IT.
Satisfied with the rundown about Mike, Jared asks us about Kelly who works at the front desk. My stomach sinks a little. Kelly is a young and cute little brunette that has only been working at Spectraltech for two years. All the nerds try to flirt with her. Maybe Jared is looking for info on her because he finds her attractive? This is not good. I must think of something juicy about her, and if I can’t find anything I’ll have to come up with something. What? It’s just a little innocent sabotage. Besides, she’s too young for Jared, so I’m actually just helping him.
“Oh, Kelly,” Brown jumps in before I can respond. “Well, there’s not too much to say about her. She does a pretty lousy job of answering the phones and can never seem to transfer calls right. I think she might spend a little too much time texting her boyfriend.” She rolls her eyes, and then as soon as Jared looks away, she looks at me out of the corner of her eyes and smiles slightly. Brown is such a great friend. I could kiss her for that. I wonder if any of that’s true. I’ll have to ask her later. Either way, Jared looks indifferent in regards to the information.