Page 75 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

Our day is spent filming a video shoot for Untethered’s launch campaign. Olivia’s storytelling approach will feature long customer testimonials for YouTube. My digital-first approach will focus on shorts we’ll blast on all social outlets to catch new customers quickly and pull them into the process of engaging with Untethered for their own custom, individualized program.

We’re so busy with models, influencers, and customers all day that I barely interface with Olivia except to make suggestions about the lighting or aesthetic.

She leaves work before I do, saying she’s meeting her sister and niece for dinner.

I told my mom I’d stop by after work, so I drive to the other side of town.

Last night almost feels like a dream. This morning, I felt like I was making progress with Olivia. Right now, I wonder how I’ll ever leap the chasm that seems to perpetually widen between us.

Dad’s out with a client, so Mom’s cooking soup for dinner when I walk in.

“Logan.” She walks over and kisses my cheek.

“Hey.” I pull her into a hug. “Smells delicious.”

“It’s just a butternut squash soup. And some rolls.”

“Sold,” I joke. “I’ll stay for dinner.”

“I hoped you would.”

“Where’s Jacob?” I ask.

“Napping. He had a big day dreaming up something he plans to develop. He went to lunch with an old classmate who wanted to collaborate on the project … or something.”

I’m quiet. Who knows what Jacob is up to.

“What’s on your mind?” Mom asks. “How’s work?”

“Good.” I pause. Mom looks at me with this certain expression that has always gotten to me. It still does, apparently. “There’s this woman at work …”

No need to name Olivia.

“Oh?” Mom’s eyes light up.

“Don’t get excited. It’s probably nothing.”

“You like her.” Mom stirs the soup. It reminds me of how I turned away from Olivia to keep her talking. Was that only last night? It feels like a lifetime ago.

“I do,” I admit. “She’s special. Like no one I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. Wow. Well, what seems to be the problem?”

“She’s … I guess you’d say she’s skittish where I’m concerned.”

“Why would that be?”

“Long story.”

“Okay. Well, do you want my thoughts?”

“I guess I do.”

“Don’t give up on her. Have you considered being honest with this woman about how you feel?”

I chuckle, picturing me coming right up to Olivia and telling her how I feel.

“Yeah. Sure,” I say. “Have you considered running in front of a moving train being driven by a visually impaired engineer?”

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