Page 132 of P.S. You're Intolerable

Reaching up, he slid his fingers through the side of my hair and cupped my head in his wide palm.

“I don’t think you understand to what extent I was driven crazy during your leave. The size difference in the paper…I had to get to the bottom of it.”

“But how did you know there was a difference? I take such a small piece—”

He slid open one of his drawers and brought up a thick stack of paper that matched the schedule I’d placed on the center of his desk.

“I’ve saved everything you’ve ever written for me. IknewDaniel’s schedules were one inch too big, and I was determined to prove myself right.”

My chest went fuzzy at the stack of schedules, which weren’t unlike the stack of notes I’d saved from Elliot at home. We were a pair of sentimental fools when it came to each other, and I loved that for us.

“I thought the tampon box made a good deterrent.”

“It was, but you’d been pregnant since you’d come to work for me and hadn’t had a need for tampons.”

I playfully hit his chest. “Fuck you for being so smart.”

He chuckled. “You’re pretty devious too. The things you said in your postscripts…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fire me. I wasn’t nice.”

“No, you weren’t.” He slid his fingers down the length of my hair then started all over again. “But those notes were like a journal to you. Private, and I read them anyway. So it would have been my own fault if my feelings had been hurt.”

“Were they?”

“Quite the opposite. I’ve never laughed harder in my life. I even called Weston to tell him about what you’d written. He agreed with your assessment.”

“And somehow, you still wanted me.”

Mirth brightened the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. “From the very first time I saw you.”

I started to fall into him, to let him kiss me silly as he was wont to do, but then I remembered what Ann had said to me about the HR mix-up while Elliot had been away. I’d stuffed that in the back of my mind and had forgotten about it until now.

“When was the first time you saw me, Elliot?”

His brows rose, but he didn’t seem worried, nor did he hesitate to answer me. “Outside the café down the street. I was early and decided to stop for coffee before coming to the office. But the truth was, I was dragging my feet because I’d just fired my last assistant the week before and wasn’t looking forward to the hiring process. I hadn’t even reached out to HR for a new candidate request.”

“Please explain because I’m so confused.”

“Well, you see, I was in a shitty mood and walked up to the café at the same time as a girl with long auburn hair. I opened the door for her. She sped past me, then spun around, curtsied, and said, ‘Thank you so much. You just made me feel good about how this day is going to go.’”

I searched my mind for Elliot, finding nothing but a faceless man in a suit. I must have been too flustered to really look at him.

“I didn’t realize that was you,” I whispered.

“I know you didn’t. You smiled at me, and my heart fucking stopped, but you weren’t really looking at me.”

“You followed me inside?”

“Not in a stalker way. Remember, I’d already been going in.”

“Of course you were,” I quipped. “Tell me more, please.”

“You were standing in line, nodding your head to the music—I think it was Smashing Pumpkins. Then it switched to the next song. I had no idea what it was until later when I looked it up.”

I laughed, knowing exactly the song he meant. “Oh my god. It was Miley Cyrus, ‘Party in the USA.’”

“Yeah.” His mouth hitched. “The baristas started singing along to the chorus, and when you got to the counter to order, you sang too. Not loud. You didn’t make a scene, but you and the cashier had a moment where you were smiling and singing to each other, and it was so intensely human, the short connection of singing a cheesy—”

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