Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

by Ellie Hall

  3

  Hazel

  I don't exactly know how I made it back to my office, but somehow, I found myself at my desk, guzzling cold coffee leftover from this morning.

  How had this happened? What were the chances?

  Dreamy running guy was here. At my company. He was two offices over, chatting with Paul. We were basically breathing the same air.

  Did he recognize me? Did he know I was the crazy stalker girl that had followed him on the trail yesterday?

  No. There was no way. Maybe he saw me when they ran past, but there's no way he knew I'd been spying on them at the park bench.

  I lifted my mug for another swig, disappointed to find the thing empty. If my shaky hands were any indicator, though, more caffeine wasn't what I needed right then.

  This would all be fine. What was it that yoga instructor had said the one time I went? Breathe in peace, exhale chaos? I took a deep breath, trying to find my inner Zen.

  Apparently, my Zen didn't feel like being found anytime soon.

  This was really no big deal. Sure, I'd have to meet with him a couple times to go over HR stuff and get him set up with payroll, but after that, there’d be no need for our paths to cross. Well, ignoring the fact that we would be working in a suite of about two thousand square feet and would pass every time one of us had to use the bathroom. Whatever. I had a strong bladder. I could hold it.

  I eyed the clock. I needed to call my sister and vent. As per the schedule I'd put in Owen's welcome notebook, he would meet with me after lunch. It was 11:15 right now. An early break couldn't hurt.

  Ten minutes later, I was on a park bench a block away, feeding a herd of pigeons the stale granola bar I'd found in my purse and listening to the phone ringing on my sister's end.

  "Pick up, pick up," I muttered only a little desperately. Just before it went to voicemail, an explosion of noise hit my ear.

  "Hello?" my sister yelled through what sounded like battering rams behind her.

  "Autumn?" I responded, plugging my free ear as if that would somehow help.

  "Hazel, hey, hang on one second." There was another banging noise before my sister's muffled voice said, "Take your swords outside! Go fight a tree or something." More banging before silence filled the air. "Okay, I'm here. What's up?" Her voice was as calm as a Sunday morning.

  I tried to hold back a grin. "Everything all right over there? It sounds like World War III."

  There was a low sigh. "The boys found some old wrapping paper rolls and were using them as swords. I figured a few minutes of entertainment were worth some Santa paper."

  I couldn't hold back my laugh now. Autumn had two of the most adorable and most trouble-making boys I'd ever seen. They were three and five, and I didn't know how she had stayed sane the last few years. "Definitely worth it."

  "All right, you'd better talk fast because who knows how long that's gonna keep them busy," she said as a brave pigeon tried to steal the remaining half of my granola bar.

  "Okay, so I may have just embarrassed myself more in the last two days than I ever have in my entire life."

  There was a second of silence followed by, "This sounds like it's going to be good."

  I slid one hand down my face. "So, you know I like to run that river trail in the morning?"

  "Yes, you and your bizarre running habit. If I had an hour of free time every day, I guarantee I wouldn't be wasting it—"

  "Anyway," I said, cutting her off, "the last few weeks, I've seen the same guy running every day."

  "Oh no. This is about a guy? Wait, I need to sit down."

  I ignored her snark. "Every time we cross paths, he gives me this smile. You know the kind I'm talking about. Not the ‘Have a nice day’ kind of smile but the flirty, ‘Hey I think you're cute’ kind of smile. And then, the other morning, he even winked at me."

  "A wink? The scoundrel."

  "Will you stop interrupting?" I threw a chunk of granola at the circle of needy pigeons. "After some deep thinking and consideration, I figured this was a sign from heaven telling me I should introduce myself to him."

  "What have I told you about signs from heaven? Anytime you think you're receiving one, you need to run it by me first. I don't think a random guy smiling at you on your morning run is a sign. I think it just proves the man is polite and his mom taught him good manners."

  "So, I devised a foolproof scheme," I plowed on, "to inadvertently trip in front of him one morning. Of course, this would force him to stop and see if I was okay. We'd have to introduce ourselves then probably end up falling in love—"

  "I can see how this is totally airtight. Definitely no room for error whatsoever. So, when’s the wedding?"

  "I can hear your sarcasm," I said, tossing the rest of the bar at the pigeons. They were my only true friends in this world. "And, as you're rudely insinuating, the plan didn't exactly go as I'd hoped. But it wasn't my fault." I crumpled up the empty wrapper. "Randomly, for the first time ever, he was running with a girl that morning."

  "Didn't you do a ring check?"

  "Of course I did a ring check. And to be honest, I don't even think the girl was a love interest. I think she was a relative."

  "Did they have matching bracelets that said family forever or something?"

  I chewed my lip. "I may have done some low-level snooping."

  "Hazel..."

  "It was fine. I totally didn't make it weird." I thought back to my swan dive into the bushes and the thorn slices up and down my legs. "Well, kind of. He and his female relative"—I still hadn't determined how they were related—"were sitting on a park bench, chatting, so I just hid in the trees and listened for a bit."

  "I still don't understand. What was the point of spying on them in the first place?"

  "I wanted to see if he was actually dating anyone or if he was available!"

  There was a long sigh. "We're starting a blood pact today. Repeat after me. I will not go off on any harebrained schemes without consulting my sister first—"

  "Autumn! You're supposed to be on my side. I haven't even gotten to the worst part yet."

  "Good heavens. There's more? Did he catch you?"

  "No." I thought back to my face planted in the dirt. "At least, I'm pretty sure he didn't. Anyway, so after overhearing their conversation, I found out this guy is a total player. All those smiles and winks he sent my way? He does that to every woman. What does he think is going to happen? Of course females are going to assume he's interested! But obviously, he's heartless."

  Autumn let out another sigh. "I guess we've all learned a valuable lesson here today. Do not pick up strange men on running trails."

  "Wait, there’s more."

  "For crying out loud, Hazel, what is this? Some sort of infomercial?"

  "Here’s the worst part. The man is working. At. My. Company!"

  Seriously, though, what were the chances?

  "What do you mean he's working at your company? Did he just start?"

  "Yeah, it's only temporary, though. He's a computer tech who's fixing our new website. You know, for the ocean research project launching next month?"

  "I remember you telling me about that."

  "So, now I have to see him every day. I'll have to walk by his desk and smile and try to look pleasant at this woman-hating man who I'm about ninety percent sure didn't see me yesterday but there's still a ten percent chance that he did—"

  "Deep breaths, Hazel. This is fine. You're making an anthill into a volcano."

  "I don't think that's the saying."

  "You are Hazel Clark. The most successful and determined HR Manager there ever was. No one else has the people skills or the ability to act like everything is okay as you do. You're gonna walk back into the office and pretend like nothing has changed from twenty-four hours ago. If you see him, you're going to smile, ask how his day is going, and then continue on your merry way."

  I shifted on the metal bench, my pencil skirt catching on the edge. "But what if he gives me one of
those irresistible smiles again? Or even worse, a wink?" I worked to dislodge the rather expensive wool fabric I really didn't have the budget to replace.

  "No. We are not even going there. I hate to be the one to say this, but Hazel, we all know your history when it comes to men. You love to go for the bad boys. The ones that play with girls' hearts before casting them aside like last week's takeout. We all remember the months after you broke up with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

  Jack. I thought back to my last boyfriend from over a year ago. The man that had ripped my heart out not just once, but multiple times.

  "I want you to repeat the vow with me. Are you ready? I will not—"

  I covered my face with one hand. "I will not date jerks who only care about themselves. I will only date nice guys," I repeated in a monotone voice.

  "Thank you, and if this guy—"

  There was a loud crash on her end followed by a Tarzan yell. "Oh crap. I gotta go. Jake, drop your brother!"

  Another crash ended with the line going dead. If it were anyone else, I'd call 9-1-1, but that was pretty standard for my sister's house.

  I eyed my empty wrapper, regretting not saving any of the stale bar for myself. Of their own accord, my fingers swiped over the screen of my phone, opening my favorite social media app. A second later, I was looking at a picture of a very attractive man. His sun-kissed tan offset his beach-blond hair as he canoodled an equally attractive supermodel. Okay, maybe she wasn't a supermodel. She was actually a dental assistant, if my Internet stalking was correct, but she could've been a model.

  Jack. Or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as Autumn had dubbed him after we'd separated. Although, separated was too kind a word. It implied our parting was mutual. Maybe even congenial. It wasn't.

  It was two years where I pulled all the weight in our relationship, and Jack strung me merrily along while he kept his collection of flings on the side. I still felt sick thinking about it. Not so much what he had done—although it'd been despicable—but more because I had known better. I knew what Jack was. He was a womanizer. And yet I had clung to him.

  It was ridiculous and embarrassing. A situation I'd never put myself in again.

  I closed the app and slid my phone into my bag. Might as well go grab something to eat. I looked at my feet, noticing all my pigeon friends had disappeared now that the granola bar was gone. Just like all the men in my life.

  4

  Hazel

  After a quick lunch, I waited for the elevator to reach my office, rubbing my tongue over my teeth. I didn't have any sesame seeds stuck in them, did I? The light chimed, and the door slid open. I rocked back on my heels, suddenly wishing I'd taken the stairs instead of the elevator. That would have postponed my meeting with Owen at least by another five minutes. The man in a gray suit beside me lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

  I cleared my throat and sent him a halfhearted smile. "Guess this is me," I said, giving him this weird salute as I stepped off. Don't mind me, just floor six’s resident crazy lady.

  I ran my hands down the no-nonsense black blazer I’d paired with a white button-down. Sure, it wasn't exciting, but I wasn't hired as an HR manager to be stylish. Even so, I pulled out my lip gloss and applied a fresh coat of the cherry-red color I'd been loving lately. At least I’d worn my favorite high heels today.

  As I walked inside the office, I noticed that Owen had taken the cubicle closest to the entrance. It made sense. It was the only one available, after all. Unfortunately, that meant I would have to pass him every time I entered and exited. I'd really have to work on that iron bladder.

  He looked up, his cool green eyes studying me like I was one of those monochromatic, one-thousand-piece puzzles no one ever finished. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, though, and his gaze softened into a friendly one.

  I strode up to his desk, trying to look purposeful. It was only when one corner of his mouth began to lift that my steely resolve weakened. My left foot teetered on its final step, and I instantly regretted ever buying such high heels. I lunged for the half-wall dividing the cubicles, trying my best to look casual as my fingers clung to the laminate material for balance.

  The spark of humor that lit up his face told me I'd missed the mark.

  "Owen," I managed to get out, "how are things?" I decided to go all-in on the casual look by sliding my arm over the top of the cubicle wall and leaning my full weight on it.

  Apparently, these half-walls weren't meant to hold the weight of a human.

  The partition started to wobble, and as such, I wobbled right along with it.

  Holy Moses, this couldn't be happening.

  I watched the drama unfold through Owen's expressions. There was a slight opening of his mouth as the wall and I began to sway, which turned into wide eyes of alarm as I lost my balance, and my unsteady form crashed to the ground.

  This was it. If there was ever a moment in my adult life that I was ready to pass through to the other side, this was it.

  Owen, meanwhile, sprang from his chair, his body forming a dark silhouette against the fluorescent ceiling lights above me. "Oh man, are you okay?" that deep, radio-worthy voice asked.

  Was I okay? No, I was not okay. I had just humiliated myself in front of the devastatingly attractive new guy at the office. The one I was determined to show I was poised and definitely not needy. And here I was, scrambling to make sure my pencil skirt still covered all my assets. "Yes," I said, my voice about two octaves too high. "I'm…totally"—out of sheer willpower, I forced myself into a sitting position—"fine." I eyed the offending cubicle wall that now had a slight bend in it.

  The grimace on his face told me my acting needed some work.

  "Are you sure? You didn't...break anything, did you?" One of his hands hovered midair, like he wanted to reach out to help me but didn't know where to grab.

  "Of course not, I'm just having a problem with one of my shoes." I looked down at the footwear, only partially dismayed to find that one of the heels had broken in my tumble. These traitors were going in the garbage after today.

  "Can I at least help you up?”

  I desperately wanted to say no. To show him how completely independent I was. However, the form-fitting pencil skirt gave me two options: flash the world as I tried to stand up on my own or accept his help. I reached my hand toward him. "Um, that would be great, thank you."

  His warm palm gripped mine, his hold strong.

  I sent angry, sexual harassment HR notices to my rapidly beating heart. Stop overreacting, I told it. Who cared if this guy had massive shoulders and ironically flat abs to go with them? And that fresh aftershave smell? We were not attracted to it.

  I realized that he had finished pulling me up, yet for some reason, his fingers still held mine. Or maybe it was my hand that held his? I lifted my gaze to meet his, that look of open curiosity in his eyes again.

  My stomach dropped as I thought of how this appeared. Like I was one of those girls throwing themselves at him. Well, more like tripped in front of him in this case, but still.

  I yanked my hand back and tucked it behind me. "Thank you." I cleared my throat, praying for some sort of redeeming professionalism to come back to me. "A-are you ready to go over our employee paperwork?" Shoulders back. I was the HR Manager again.

  "Yeah, let me just send off this email and I'll come over," he said, easing himself back into his seat.

  "Great, come to my office whenever you're ready." I took a step away from him and his alluring self only to realize I was going to spend the rest of my day lopsided. I reached down and snagged the stray heel. Maybe I could duct tape it back together for the day.

  With as much dignity as I could muster, I limped to my desk. Those ten yards had never felt so long before.

  I settled into my chair, momentarily appreciating the refuge more than I ever had before. Now if only I could hide in here for the rest of the afternoon and pray that Owen would magically forget about the last five minutes. Luck was not on my side, howeve
r, since he walked into the space thirty seconds later.

  I plastered on one of my best stage smiles and indicated toward the chair in front of my desk. "Have a seat. These are mostly a bunch of formalities. I'm sure you deal with it at all the companies you work for."

  He gave me an equally pleasant and—I had a feeling—fake smile. "Of course, just tell me where to sign."

  Look at us, the epitome of politeness. You'd never know that, one minute ago, I’d made a fool of myself.

  "First, here’s a W-4..."

  Fifteen minutes later, we'd blazed through the paperwork. It didn't hurt that we'd done it in almost complete silence. I didn't know what Owen was thinking, but my mind had spent most of the time replaying all the ways my embarrassing spectacle could have gone better.

  He was just scanning the dress code when I realized what a poor job I'd been doing as the company's representative. It was my role as the HR manager to make our employees feel welcomed. I was pretty sure the cold shoulder I'd been giving him the last fifteen minutes was anything but encouraging.

  Digging deep and mustering up my best high-school-cheerleader smile, I leaned forward on my elbows. "So, are you new to the area, or have you lived in D.C. for a while?"

  My question must have startled him, given the sudden way he looked up. "Oh, I-I've lived here for a bit. About three years."

  "Yeah? What initially brought you here?" I focused my thoughts on the faint scar above his upper lip instead of on the way my insides were squirming from his gaze.

  He shrugged. "Mostly work. I'd gotten a short-term job for a large banking company. I liked it so much I ended up staying."

  "Banking? Well, that sounds...interesting." I couldn't have thought of a drier topic than other people's finances.

  He flashed a hint of that infamous grin at me, and I realized something. He hadn't given me a real smile since the welcome meeting. Great. He really did think I was one of those girls who would spend the next month throwing themselves at him.