Page 99 of Salty Pickle

He laughs, then coughs when I do, in fact, stuff a cookie between his lips. He takes a bite. “Almost as sweet.”

“Court!” I elbow him.

Devin and Dawn exchange a glance at us, but they’re smiling.

The pizza delivery arrives, and preparation begins in earnest. Two women from HR arrive to set up lemonade, tea, and water.

Within minutes, the first hungry employees poke their heads in the door.

“Come in,” Court says. “Grab a bottle, fill it with the drink of your choices, and get pizza and cookies. Lucy did all the cookie baking.”

He’s making a point of mentioning me.

My belly buzzes with happiness.

More employees file in. The chairs fill up, and others stand around. Only a few grab their lunch and go.

Conversation flows through the room. I meet more employees. Court knows everyone’s name, which seems to surprise some of them.

When we get a quiet moment, I ask him, “Did you learn everyone’s names for this?”

He slides another piece of pizza from a box to his plate. “I did.”

We make another round of chatting. There’s no sign of the distant, off-putting boss I met my first day. People are talking about it, sending furtive glances as they gossip.

Court lifts his hands. “Hello, everyone.”

People realize he’s speaking and quiet down.

“I wanted to do a quick thank you to several key people who made this lunch happen.” He gestures toward Devin. “My trusty sidekick Devin, who ordered the pizzas and got the room ready.”

Everyone claps.

“Dawn in merchandizing who got us these cool and clever bottles.” He holds his up.

There’s some cheering and many toasts with the new bottles.

“Mimi and Jean in HR who got us drinks and helped decorate.”

Another roar of approval.

“And most of all, to Lucy, who baked cookies for everyone and came up with the idea in the first place.”

There’s a huge round of applause.

My face gets hot with the attention, but I give a little wave.

“As a token of my appreciation, and I’m sure all of yours, I wanted to give her something.” He pulls out a small box.

The roars get excited, and my blood pressure skyrockets. Surely, he won’t propose at a party. We’ve only known each other for two weeks.

What will I say if he does? Do I do that? If Court wants to secure our relationship before the baby, does that mean he believes me? Should we give it a really hard try?

But he doesn’t get down on one knee, and he doesn’t open the box. He simply passes it to me. I notice the words “Natural Outfitters” on top. Clearly, they don’t do engagement rings.

I’m not sure how to feel. Relieved? Disappointed?

I set down my plate to open the box.

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