Page 40 of Writing Mr. Right

“Enough with the chitchat,” Faye cuts in, fluttering her handsas if waving the words out of the air. She rests her arms on the table and leans in. “So, what’s going on with you and Aashiq?”

This time, my phone slips from my hands and onto the table. “What?!” I hiss, and I sneak a peek over at Aashiq, who thankfully seems to be locked in a conversation with Eugene and Colin about a client they’ve been having a hard time with. His brow is creased, but for the first time, I can’t tell why. Usually, I’m able to read his expressions extremely well—partly because he can’t hide anything, but I think it also has to do with the whole “he’s a part of me” thing. I return my attention to Faye, and now Stella and Sofia are also staring at me expectantly. My cheeks warm. “Nothing’s going on with us.”

“He’s like, always by your side,” Stella states.

“Because he’s shadowing me,” I retort. “You know, so he can see if being a legal secretary is something he wants to do.”

“No offense to him, but evenifit’s something he wants to do, he’s probably not going to be very successful at it,” Sofia points out. “He’s been taught to use the printer more than once, and he still can’t get it right.”

“He stilltries, though,” I defend. “He may not be getting the hang of it, but that hasn’t stopped him from going for it.”

“Fair,” Faye says. “But none of this explains the way he’s always staring at you, especially when you’re not paying attention.”

If my face felt like a warm ember before, now it feels like a blazing inferno. “Wait—how does he look at me?”

“Like…” Stella taps her chin. “Like you’ve got the stars in your eyes and he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to get to see them so clearly.”

My jaw slackens. “Wow, that’s…” I swallow the lump growing in the back of my throat “…a really good description,” I settle on instead.

Stella brightens. “Hey, that’s great praise from the writer!” She lifts a shoulder. “Maybe I’ll get into writing, too.”

I don’t know how to tell her that trying to publish is like getting your lungs crushed, so instead I laugh weakly. “Yeah, definitely. It’s a lot of fun.” At least that part is…mostly true.

“But seriously…” Faye brings the conversation back around. “How do you feel about him? Is there—” she wiggles her fingers at me “—anything there?”

I turn back toward Aashiq. He’s watching Colin intently, but there’s something off about him. It’s like he’s not entirely paying attention to what Colin’s saying, but he’s clearly still watching him. Colin suddenly shifts, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Aashiq moves, too, awkwardly maneuvering his arms to copy Colin’s pose. Even from this side of the table, I can tell Aashiq hasn’t been speaking much. I wonder if he feels like he doesn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. It’s odd. A silent Aashiq is a weird one.

“He’s…a really good person,” I start. “He’s done a lot to help me at work, even if he’s notactuallyhelping me. Having him there as a support, or even just trying to support, is a gift. Whether he’s taking on smaller tasks, or encouraging me, or even just reminding me to take a break to eat—” the corner of my lips perk up “—he’s…he’s been a great addition to the office.”

“That much we can agree on,” Sofia says. “He’s brightened the place up in a way I can’t explain. It felt kind of dull before. Don’t get me wrong, I love my work, but it’s…work. Sometimes it just feels like a thing I do because I need money. But to see him so passionate about what he does, even if it’s just greeting clients and making sure they have all their needs attended to, it makes me think I should have more of an appreciation for my job.” She shakes her head. “Like, it makes me stop and think how Ilovewhat I do. And I’m so lucky to be doing a job I love, where I feel fulfilled and where I can help people. And that’s a privilege not everyone gets.”

Sofia has a point. Aashiq helped me realize I don’t want togive up on writing, and his passion about helping me makes me excited to get back to it, too. I don’t know necessarily how it’s going to happen yet, because I haven’t been writing, but the mini exercises and other venues of art have really been helping. And on top of that, I also have a job I love. Sure, there’s more I want to achieve—I still want to explore becoming a lawyer, but I do love the office. I love sitting behind the desk and fielding information. I love that my job means I work in all areas of the firm, not just one section. It’s like I have one toe dipped in each department, and that’s more fun than just being proficient in one area.

Plus, Aashiq has helped me open up to my coworkers in a way I didn’t think was possible. He’s cracked open my shell, and I’m crawling my way out, eager to see the sun.

19

The waiter arrives, and after he takes our order, the conversation thankfully shifts to things other than me and Aashiq. The food comes shortly after, and as I swirl some pasta onto my fork, and while the other women are talking, I lean to the left to hear the guys’ conversation.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Eugene says to Colin.

“Come on, why not?” Colin pushes. “Lots of people work on New Year’s Day. A new year means we should be getting a head start on things.”

“It’s just…people are going to be sluggish and tired after New Year’s Eve,” Eugene points out. “They deserve a day to recover. I know I’m going to need it. My wife always hosts a New Year’s party, and I help her clean up the next day.”

“That’s your problem, though, not mine,” Colin retorts. “We need to be more efficient in our work. And your wife can certainly handle the cleanup on her own.” He nudges Aashiq in the elbow. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Aashiq?”

Aashiq’s gaze flickers between the two men, then he squares his shoulders. “I… I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he offers. “Butwhat do I know? I’m just shadowing Ziya. I don’t have a big role in the office.”

“At least you’re aligning yourself with the right people, son.” Colin guffaws as he claps Aashiq on the back. Aashiq winces at the contact but tries his best to keep a grin on his face. Something’s odd about it, though. Aashiq’s smiles have always been gleeful, gentle, or wide. They’ve never been…stiff.

Eventually the conversation on the guys’ side of the table merges with ours, and I find myself learning so much. At first, it seemed like Eugene and Colin only wanted to talk about work, but Faye manages to get Eugene to open up about his college days, which leads to Colin telling us about his own law school experience. I even find myself talking about my experiences in school—of course, as a homebody, I don’t have the same crazy stories the rest of them do, but they all seem genuinely interested in what I have to say.

As the night progresses, the others start to get drunk, and Stella and Sofia manage to pull me to the stage for a few rounds of karaoke. I say “pull,” but I’m not exactly resisting. I don’t know what it is, but these past few weeks have invigorated me in a way I didn’t know was possible.

It’s halfway through my rendition of “Style” (Taylor’s Version) that I realize what’s made all the difference. I lock eyes with Aashiq, who’s sitting at the table with the other guys. Even though there’s still something off with his vibe, he has a huge smile on his face as he watches me onstage. The difference is him. He’s the one who has shown me it’s much more fun to live life in the spotlight than on the sidelines. Before him, I never would have become friends with my coworkers. I never would have found the confidence to do karaoke in front of anyone other than Emily. He’s changing me, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why I was so resistant to the idea.

We do a few more songs before the others decide to hit anotherbar. That’s when I tap out. I grab my coat and my purse, then head over to Aashiq. “Hey, you ready to go?”