endure so much self-inflicted humiliation in one morning.
Regardless of how much attention I pretended not to be paying him, I was very much aware of it when he moved toward me. He lowered his head and brought his face next to mine. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “The coffee probably improved her smell.”
There is an excellent chance that I blushed at that point. I started to stammer a response, but having blurted out a stream of incoherence before, I swallowed it.
“If your name is Zoey,” he said, “they’ve called your order three times.”
I considered denying my name, but the damage was already so bad I couldn’t see trying to repair it. Any chance in hell with paramedic guy was totaled. Call the insurance company and get a claim started; once the frame is bent, the shop can’t do a thing.
I murmured a quick “thanks” under my breath, darted in to grab my coffee, and blew out the door before I could do something worse.
Nice one, Zoey. You did everything short of farting in there. Maybe if you see him again, you can tell him you have a yeast infection.
I needed the brisk two-block walk to the office in order to further my self-flagellation to the point of depression. Never in my life had I behaved that way in front of a guy—well, maybe in sixth grade. Since then, I wasn’t the smoothest talker, but I could hold my own on witty banter. Today’s display was worthy of a night in bed with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. I didn’t own flannel pajamas, but I was considering stopping at the mall to get some.
When I walked into the office, Sara glided from her desk to meet me at the door.
“Good, you’re here,” she said. “The Dickson-Strauss wedding is a week from Saturday and I have a ton of errands to run. I’ll be in and out all day. Can you man the phones in case she’s having a meltdown? You’re better at calming the storm.”
She paced the office, picking up samples and books, moving coffee cups, peeling Post-it notes from one location and re-sticking them in another. There was a frenetic energy I admired in secret—Sara’s mornings did not look like a zombie movie. She never grunted before her first cup of coffee. Sara was my idol.
“I have a two o’clock at the bakery, but other than that, I’ve got it. If I have to leave, I’ll forward to my cell.”
I plopped into my chair, trying to shake off the utter dejection I’d built up for myself. I took a sip of my coffee and managed to burn my mouth.
“Why do you insist on buying overpriced sugar disguised as coffee when we have a perfectly good coffeemaker here?”
“Why, indeed.” I shuffled through a pile of papers and pulled what I was going to need for my meeting in an hour. “Probably because my ego is far too large and needs a good downsizing.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Problem at Ye Old Coffee Shoppe?”
“Not a problem.” I stretched my face into a bright, fake smile. “I’m going to die alone and childless. It’s my fate.”
“How much caffeine have you had today? You’re not right.”
I considered the question for a moment. “Hot chocolate has caffeine, right? So, a lot. I’ve been up since a little after three. This day is going to be fabulous.”
“You sure I can leave you here alone?” I knew she didn’t mean it. Sara was wearing her amused face, the one she used when she thought I was being silly and might start juggling bunnies and kittens any second.
Come to think of it, I might have seen that same expression on the paramedic’s face. I groaned. That’s right. I’m freakin’ adorable.
Rather than outline my humiliation for her, I changed the subject.
“I have an appointment in an hour. What can I do to make your day easier, since mine’s already trashed?”
Our office was small, but efficient. My desk was along the wall on the right, facing the left wall. Hers was back in the left-hand corner facing the door. It was rare that we ever had
Regardless of how much attention I pretended not to be paying him, I was very much aware of it when he moved toward me. He lowered his head and brought his face next to mine. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “The coffee probably improved her smell.”
There is an excellent chance that I blushed at that point. I started to stammer a response, but having blurted out a stream of incoherence before, I swallowed it.
“If your name is Zoey,” he said, “they’ve called your order three times.”
I considered denying my name, but the damage was already so bad I couldn’t see trying to repair it. Any chance in hell with paramedic guy was totaled. Call the insurance company and get a claim started; once the frame is bent, the shop can’t do a thing.
I murmured a quick “thanks” under my breath, darted in to grab my coffee, and blew out the door before I could do something worse.
Nice one, Zoey. You did everything short of farting in there. Maybe if you see him again, you can tell him you have a yeast infection.
I needed the brisk two-block walk to the office in order to further my self-flagellation to the point of depression. Never in my life had I behaved that way in front of a guy—well, maybe in sixth grade. Since then, I wasn’t the smoothest talker, but I could hold my own on witty banter. Today’s display was worthy of a night in bed with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. I didn’t own flannel pajamas, but I was considering stopping at the mall to get some.
When I walked into the office, Sara glided from her desk to meet me at the door.
“Good, you’re here,” she said. “The Dickson-Strauss wedding is a week from Saturday and I have a ton of errands to run. I’ll be in and out all day. Can you man the phones in case she’s having a meltdown? You’re better at calming the storm.”
She paced the office, picking up samples and books, moving coffee cups, peeling Post-it notes from one location and re-sticking them in another. There was a frenetic energy I admired in secret—Sara’s mornings did not look like a zombie movie. She never grunted before her first cup of coffee. Sara was my idol.
“I have a two o’clock at the bakery, but other than that, I’ve got it. If I have to leave, I’ll forward to my cell.”
I plopped into my chair, trying to shake off the utter dejection I’d built up for myself. I took a sip of my coffee and managed to burn my mouth.
“Why do you insist on buying overpriced sugar disguised as coffee when we have a perfectly good coffeemaker here?”
“Why, indeed.” I shuffled through a pile of papers and pulled what I was going to need for my meeting in an hour. “Probably because my ego is far too large and needs a good downsizing.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Problem at Ye Old Coffee Shoppe?”
“Not a problem.” I stretched my face into a bright, fake smile. “I’m going to die alone and childless. It’s my fate.”
“How much caffeine have you had today? You’re not right.”
I considered the question for a moment. “Hot chocolate has caffeine, right? So, a lot. I’ve been up since a little after three. This day is going to be fabulous.”
“You sure I can leave you here alone?” I knew she didn’t mean it. Sara was wearing her amused face, the one she used when she thought I was being silly and might start juggling bunnies and kittens any second.
Come to think of it, I might have seen that same expression on the paramedic’s face. I groaned. That’s right. I’m freakin’ adorable.
Rather than outline my humiliation for her, I changed the subject.
“I have an appointment in an hour. What can I do to make your day easier, since mine’s already trashed?”
Our office was small, but efficient. My desk was along the wall on the right, facing the left wall. Hers was back in the left-hand corner facing the door. It was rare that we ever had
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