School Fling Anthology: Class Is in Session

by Jessica Wood

  Chapter Nine

  “Hi, Emma,” Sarah greeted me as we both walked into the office building the next morning.

  “Hey, Sarah,” I said with a smile. “How was happy hour?”

  “Really fun!” she said as we got into the elevator. “You’ll have to come out when we go again this Friday!”

  “Sure, that sounds like fun,” I said, and to my surprise, I had actually meant it. I wanted to get to know this new city and make more friends here. More importantly, I wanted to keep myself busy and take my mind off Brandon.

  The elevator door opened, and two feet in front of me stood Brandon, waiting for the elevator and looking straight at me. I felt the dull ache in my heart gnaw at me as he smiled at us.

  “Good morning, Mr. Fisher,” Sarah said brightly. I nodded at him, unable to speak.

  “Hello, Sarah and Emma. Please, call me Brandon,” he smiled at us.

  “Okay, Brandon,” Sarah gleefully replied.

  I managed a meek smile but still could not seem to speak.

  After an awkward second of silence, Sarah motioned for me to step out of the elevator.

  “Oh, right,” I said quickly as I hopped out of the elevator.

  “Hey, do you guys have any coffee preferences?” Brandon asked as he walked in the elevator and held the door open as he looked back at us. “I’m heading down to the Coffee Bean downstairs to grab our team some pastries and coffee.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice, Mr. Fi—I mean, Brandon,” Sarah said. “Can I get a macchiato with almond milk and two packets of Truvia?”

  “Macchiato, almond milk, and two Truvias—got it,” Brandon said. “And you, Emma?” He looked over at me, and it took all my concentration to not sink into those warm brown eyes.

  “Um, thanks. I’ll get a coffee,” I said.

  After a pause, Brandon asked, “Did you want anything in your coffee?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like half and half, whole milk, 2%, soy milk, almond milk? Sugar, Equal, Splenda, Truvia?”

  “Oh,” I laughed, “I’m not too picky. Surprise me.” I couldn’t help smiling at him.

  “Well, you’re simple and easy,” Brandon said with a teasing smile.

  Simple? Easy? Hurt filled me as my brain dissected his words and thought back to that night in Cancun.

  As if reading my mind, Brandon said, “Simple and easy are good. I’ll see you two in a few minutes with the coffees.” With that, he let the elevator door close between us and he was gone.

  “What was that all about?” Sarah asked with curiosity. She looked at me with a devious smile.

  “What was what all about?” I said, wondering if I was that transparent.

  “I don’t know. I can’t really explain it, but it’s almost like you two know each other and you have some sort of unspoken language,” Sarah said with furrowed eyebrows.

  “Hmm, you’re being silly. So tell me about last night,” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Oh, it was great. Eight of us ended up going to this wine bar at the Ferry Building. I felt like we were so posh and grown up,” Sarah giggled with delight.

  “Hi, girls.” Ms. Wilson was walking towards us with a notepad in hand.

  “Hi, Ms. Wilson,” Sarah and I said.

  “Please, call me Claire,” she said. “So let me show you two to your workstations.” She motioned us to follow her, turned her heels, and headed back toward the offices area.

  “So as associates, you guys will be seated with your team in cubicle workstations,” Claire explained. “Sarah, this is your workstation,” she said as we stopped at a cubicle. “And that is yours, Emma.” Claire motioned to the cubicle next to Sarah’s.

  “Hey, girls.” We looked up to see Josh pop up from a cubicle on the other side of mine.

  “Hi,” Sarah and I said back.

  “So I’ll let you girls get situated in your workstations. This morning, you’ll be having one-on-one meetings with your team leader, who will assign you your first projects,” Claire said.

  My heartbeat quickened at the thought of being alone with Brandon.

  “Have a great day. If you guys have any questions, my door is always open.”

  “Thanks, Claire,” we said as we watched her walk away.

  After Claire left, I turned on my computer and checked my email. My stomach flipped when I saw an email from Brandon Fisher. Seeing his name in print seemed to solidify how real he was in my life.

  To: Emma Anderson

  From: Brandon Fisher

  Subject: Introductions

  Good morning, Emma,

  It was great meeting you yesterday. I look forward to getting to know you better. I hope you will find working under me to be pleasurable, and if you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. My door is always open. I look forward to speaking with you further during our one-on-one.

  Brandon

  I read and reread the email. I knew I was reading too much into the email, but I couldn’t help it. I stared at the words “working under me to be pleasurable,” “if you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to ask,” and “my door is always open,” as if by somehow by staring at them with fierce concentration they would reveal their intended meaning.

  “Hi, Emma.” Startled, I looked up from my computer screen quickly and looked straight into Brandon’s warm eyes and inviting smile.

  My heart fluttered uncontrollably. “Hi. Hi, Brandon,” I said as I shifted my body nervously. I reminded myself to smile and breathe.

  “Well, here’s your coffee, a regular coffee. A free drink on me this Friday if you can guess what I put in there,” he grinned, and part of me found it difficult to think.

  “Free drink this Friday? Put in where?” I asked in confusion.

  “Oh yeah, happy hour on Friday. Josh told me about it this morning. I hope you don’t mind that the old guy tags along,” he said with a wink and then laughed at himself.

  “You’re not old,” I blurted out without thinking. “Wait, how old are you?” I felt a flush of embarrassment when I heard the words come out of my mouth. “I’m—I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me to ask.”

  “Don’t be silly, Emma. I was the one who brought it up. I’m twenty-seven. Not too old I hope?” he teased.

  My cheeks felt hot at his casualness with me.

  “Well? So what’s your guess on what I ended up putting in your coffee? You did ask me to surprise you.” He smiled and it was warm and genuine.

  “Oh. Right, I forgot about that. Um, half and half?”

  “Darn, I guess I owe you a drink on Friday,” he said with a wink.

  I giggled, temporarily forgetting who Brandon was or the fact that he had broken my heart.

  “Well, since I have your attention already, let’s go into my office and we can do our one-on-one introductions now,” he said as he gestured toward the office my cubicle faced.

  “Oh, that’s your office?” I cringed the second the question came out of my mouth.

  “Well, I am your group leader, so they’ve placed you, Josh, and Sarah next to my office. It fosters team unity and open communications.”

  Brandon motioned me to follow him as he walked into his office. The wall of his office facing the hallway was made of large panes of frosted glass. His office was the size of my entire studio apartment. In one corner of the office was a large, sleek modern desk. In the center of the office was a large, round work table covered with binders and files. Against the glass wall was a luxurious beige couch with an oval acrylic coffee table.

  “Have a seat, Emma.” Brandon gestured at one end of the couch as he sat down on the other end.

  “Thanks.” I sat down, holding my coffee cup nervously with both hands.

  “Your first project is the Imperial Hotel Project. Here’s the binder with a summary of the project and what I’ll need you to look into and work on.” Brandon handed me a binder. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Okay,
sure. Thanks.”

  As I was about to get up and leave Brandon’s office, he said, “Before you leave, tell me a little about yourself,” Brandon said with a sincere smile.

  Brandon was less than a foot away from me and his close proximity made it hard to think. I took a tentative sip from my coffee, hoping to buy some time. “Well, I’m originally from Los Angeles. I just graduated from UCLA with a marketing major. I’m really excited to be working at Fisher & Morrison.”

  “That’s great, but tell me more about you, not what I can gather from your resume,” Brandon said with a warm chuckle.

  “Oh,” I said in surprise. “Like what?”

  “Well, I’d like to get to know who I’ll be working with. What are your passions? What excites you?”

  “Oh. Well, I love to cook and bake,” I offered.

  Brandon’s eyes lit up. “Oh, what can you cook?”

  “Lots of different things. I love to try out new recipes.”

  “Nice. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.” There was a slight pause before he continued. “So if you were making a special meal for someone, what would you make?”

  “Hm. That’s tough. I try to cater to what my guests would enjoy,” I said. I smiled at him and realized that, no matter how nervous I was, Brandon had a way of making me feel comfortable, at home.

  I paused before asking, “For example, what do you enjoy eating?”

  “Me? Hm. Well, I’m pretty boring. I’m what you’d call a steak-and-potatoes kind of guy,” he said with a chuckle. “So, what would you cook for me?” There was a twinkle in his eyes, and for a moment, I got lost in them.

  “Well, if it was a special meal and you liked steak and potatoes, I would probably make my garlic prime rib with a Guinness au jus dip with a side of buttermilk mashed potatoes and French string beans with slivered almonds. Or something similar,” I said as I thought about my choices.

  “That sounds amazing, Emma. Your boyfriend must be fat and happy,” Brandon said with a chuckle.

  “I—I don’t have a boyfriend.” I felt confused and hurt by his comment. I looked at him and couldn’t interpret the expression on his face.

  “Oh okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just meant that the meal you described sounds wonderful, and I just assumed that some lucky guy had already claimed you for himself.” He flashed me a brilliant, warm smile, which instantly melted my hurt away.

  Brandon then shifted slightly on the couch and moved perceptively closer to me. I felt his knees brush gently against mine, causing a jolt of excitement to run through my body.

  “Well…” I began hesitantly, and I felt my hands grow clammy. “Since you haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while…um, if you’d like, I’d be happy to make that meal for you some time.” I looked down at my coffee as I spoke. Did you seriously just ask him out? I thought to myself. Nerves prickled through my body as I waited for his response, and I found myself fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat.

  After what seemed like an excruciating eternity, he smiled at me. “That’s very sweet of you, Emma. Thank you for the offer.” His empty response shot through me like a sharp, cold dagger. So he isn’t interested in me after all, I thought. It was all in my imagination.

  “Right, no problem,” I said weakly as I looked down at my coffee, my fingers fidgeting nervously at the coffee lid.

  “So, Emma, since we’ll be intimately working together on projects, what would you like to know about me?” I could still feel his knee firmly in contact with mine.

  Do you remember me?! I screamed inside.

  “Um, well. What do you do for fun?” I asked. Really? That’s the question you came up? I thought to myself.

  “Well, San Francisco is a great city to do a lot of different things, so I’m always looking for new hobbies to try out,” Brandon began. “On a typical weekend, I like to start my mornings out with a bike ride around the city or a hike along the coastal area near the Golden Gate Bridge. I find it really relaxing and the view is spectacular. Do you bike or hike?”

  “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on a bike, but isn’t hiking just a cool way of saying walking?”

  Brandon laughed. “Yes, it’s basically walking.”

  “So, did you just ask me if I walk?” I asked playfully, again feeling completely relaxed around him.

  Brandon chuckled. “You got me there, Emma. Last time I checked, you could walk.” He lightly put his hand on my knees and gently squeezed it. His warm hand sent chills down my back and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up in anticipation.

  “Yes, I believe that’s how I got to this couch,” I teased as I beamed at him.

  “Touché.”

  We then looked at each other—really looked at each other. For a split second, it felt like we were seeing each other for the first time, and I was instantly taken back to that evening in Cancun when our eyes locked for the first time. I looked at him longingly and thought I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Please kiss me, I thought as I willed him to inch closer to me.

  Just then, his phone beeped and the spell was broken. He blinked and slightly leaned away from me.

  “So, do you live in the city?” I heard myself ask, trying to fill in the silence that was becoming uncomfortable.

  “Yes, I live in Presidio Heights. My condo has a great view of the Bay, and I love coming home at night and being able to watch the sunset from my living room. I’m a sucker for sunsets.”

  Brandon’s mention of sunsets took me by surprise, making me to jump. Before I could stop it, I saw in slow motion the coffee cup slip out of my hands and land squarely on his lap, causing the hot contents to pour directly on him.

  “OHMYGOD, I’m so sorry!” I shrieked as I jumped up in alarm. I instantly grabbed some tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and frantically started blotting the coffee off Brandon’s pants.

  “It’s—it’s okay, Emma,” Brandon said in between my rushed movements, momentarily frozen in shock.

  “I’m so sorry! I’m not sure how that happened! I—I…” I grabbed some more tissues and pressed them against him, trying to soak up as much of the coffee as I could.

  Just then, I froze in horror as I realized what I was doing. I was kneeling down, inches away from Brandon’s crotch, and vigorously rubbing down on his pants to remove the stain. I was rubbing his crotch.

  Before I could react, I heard Brandon’s uneven intake of breath right above me and my hands felt him stiffen and grow slightly under his pants.

  Oh God, I thought in embarrassment.

  I quickly moved away. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. I—I—”

  “It’s really okay,” Brandon interrupted me as he regained his composure. “Don’t—don’t worry about it. I have an extra set of clothes here in my office that I can change into,” he said as he looked at me. His eyes seemed dazed as he shifted in his seat. Then he slowly got up and walked to a small closet in the corner of the office.

  “I’m really, really sorry,” I stammered out as I scuffled towards his door. “I’ll—I’ll just go and get started on my first project,” I said in rush and ran out of the office, closing the door behind me.

  I was mortified, and I cringed as the images of what had just happened flashed through my memory.

  “Emma? What happened?” Sarah looked up from her workstation and started at me curiously. I realized that I was still standing in front of Brandon’s office door.

  “Oh God, I just spilled coffee on him,” I confessed. Another wave of embarrassment crashed through me.

  “Whoa. How did that happen?”

  “I don’t even know,” I said in bewilderment as I walked mindlessly to my workstation and sat down on my chair. “We were just talking and…and my coffee cup just flew out of my hands. ARGH,” I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

  “Was he mad?” Sarah asked.

  I paused and looked up. “No. I don’t think so.”

&nbs
p; “Wow, he’s so nice,” Sarah said dreamily. “Well, cheer up. It was an accident.”

  “Yeah,” I said absentmindedly. But I was rubbing his crotch, I thought to myself. I was not about to admit that to Sarah. I was embarrassed enough at my own knowledge of my actions. Luckily, after the coffee incident, Brandon had his one-on-one meetings with Josh and Sarah before heading out of the office for meetings for the rest of the day. I was relieved that I had been saved from thinking about his crotch every time he walked by.

  Before he left for the day, he stopped by my workstation to assure me that everything was fine. “See? As good as new,” he said, motioning to his new, dry pants.

  “Sorry about that,” I said feebly, my face twisting apologetically.

  “It’s okay. Just a scathing burn to the crotch. I get that from all my colleagues,” he teased. “Just try not to hurt me when I come over for dinner.” He winked before walking away.

  ***

  When I got home that night, I felt better and wasn’t dying of humiliation each time the coffee scene played in my head.

  As I was making dinner, Steph texted me.

  Steph: Did you get sexually harassed today? ;)

  Me: No. Actually, I think I sexually harassed HIM! So embarrassing!

  Steph: OMG, what happened!? Dish it!

  I laughed at Steph’s text. The oven timer went off then, and I went over to remove the baked salmon and asparagus out of the oven. By the time I returned to my phone, Steph had sent three new text messages.

  Steph: Details please! ASAP!

  Steph: Come on, don’t leave me hanging!

  Steph: Stop sexually harassing the asshole, and tell me the story! By HIM, you do mean Brandon, right???

  Me: Sorry, had to get something out of the oven.

  Steph: Is that a euphemism for some sex act I’m not aware of? Stop stalling and tell me!

  Me: Haha, aren’t we the impatient one. So I accidentally spilled hot coffee all over his lap while we were in his office this morning.

  Steph: LOL! That’s awesome. I hope you gave little Brandon some second degree burns down there! Serves him right for forgetting about you!

  Me: Haha. Steph, that’s not funny. I hope I didn’t burn him.

  Me: So it gets worse.