Page 168 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“We met because of number one. I’m sitting here now because?—”

“A temp agency placed you.”

“You can say that all you want, but I’m not convinced that we weren’t supposed to meet on purpose.”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“See?You do believe.”

“I believe in what’s right in front of me. I believe the tangible and seeing things with my own two eyes.” Not letting her get out of this without hearing what’s on her mind, I loop back around, and ask, “What’s the proposition?”

“A date.”

20

Juni

True colors don’t stay hiddenfor long.

“I thought you were going to come see me at lunch?” Taylor leans against the high counter of my desk like it’s his job to support it.

Did I miss something? Why does he sound annoyed with me, as if he wrongly presumed our lunch in the break room was a date? “Sorry, Taylor. I had other plans.” It’s not a lie. I ended up with plans in the end.

Tapping the counter to an annoying beat that doesn’t have a predictable melody, he says, “A lot of us are going to The Watering Hole after work. Do you want to join us?”

Wonder who ‘a lot’ is? Drew? Laurie? Mary? Or Joseph? Suddenly, I’m caught in what sounds like a nativity scene. OrThe Wizard of Oz—oh my!

Not wanting to pursue a religious avenue or Hollywood classics, I consider the invitation. I’ve not spent time with many others, but I wouldn’t mind getting to know most of them better. I can practically see Gil high-fiving me for getting involved and developing more relationships. Completing my office supplies order, I finally give Taylor my undivided attention. “I’ll pass. Thank you.”

Baby steps.

He checks his watch and then starts to leave. “Too bad. I was looking forward to talking with you.” I guess he’s not familiar with what we’re doing now. “It’s five o’clock. Time to blow this joint.”

I’m no empath, but that guy comes off like an asshole. What is it with accountants in this company? I answer the last call of the day and then place my order online for a delivery on Tuesday. Melissa had her way of doing things, but I’ve already formed a few habits of my own. I don’t use the clip-on box and answer calls while assisting others. I’ve found that although I can multitask that aspect of my job, it’s disruptive to others when I’m walking around answering calls. So if I need to leave my desk, I send the calls to the service.

I like to get to work early as well. Not only is it peaceful but I also have time to organize the coffee supplies before they get messed up by the zombies showing up needing a first cup.

At the end of the day, it’s nice to say good night to everyone. Well, everyone who leaves before five thirty. That never includes Andrew and only occasionally includes Nick. The Christiansens are all workaholics from what I’ve witnessed.

Though sometimes they surprise me . . . while other employees pass by, saying good night as they head home, Nick Christiansen stops by my desk. We haven’t spoken much in these past few weeks, but it’s enough to be on a first-name basis. He says, “Hi Juni, some of us are going to The Watering Hole. It’s a place around the corner.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it.”

“Oh, good. Laurie and Joseph went early to grab some tables. It’s a last-minute plan, but will you be able to join us?”

He’s very good-looking, strikingly so, tall like his brother, dark hair, similar soulful brown eyes. His wife is a stunner herself. When his assistant was out sick, I was asked to take notes. That’s when I saw a photo of his wife on his desk.

But he’s no Andrew . . .I think it’s best if I don’t dwell on something more potentially happening there. I’ll only end up disappointed.

I drag my purse from the drawer. “I appreciate the offer, but?—”

“I’m ready,” Andrew says, filling the doorway. Not bothered by the witnesses waiting for the elevator or that his brother is standing there, he adds, “I hope you’re coming to the happy hour, Juni.”

“Absolutely.”

Nick carries forward, chuckling, and we both follow. “It will be good to unwind and visit with everyone outside the office.” There’s a similarity in how the Christiansen brothers make you feel special, like no one else is around when they’re talking to you.

The elevator opens, and as soon as the door closes, Nick adds, “I’d like you to meet my wife.”

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