Page 18 of Elevator Pitch

She smiles softly. “Well, I am happier than ever, but it’s actually a Billie Eilish song. Have you ever heard it?”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll check it out.”

I sip my coffee, growing comfortable with the busy sounds of the cafe and her loud typing. I notice how she keeps trying to pretend I’m not here, but whenever I’m silent for too long, it makes her uncomfortable, and she makes conversation with me. This is the most I’ve heard her speak in weeks, and I’m enjoying it.

I’m not quite ready for this moment to end.

Who knows when I’ll get another?

As if she could hear my thoughts, she reminds, “I thought you had somewhere to be.”

When she reaches in the box for another donut hole, I purposely brush my hand over hers when I grab one. I keep my eyes locked on hers when I pop the donut in my mouth and chew slowly. Her gaze roams and stills on my lips, following my throat as I swallow.

So, she’s bashful yet watches me eat as if she imagines something else on my tongue.

“It can wait,” I respond with a shrug.

“Y-Your job can wait? For what exactly? You’re just sitting here watching me.”

“I’ll let you think that’s what I’m doing.” I sip my coffee. “Yes, they can wait for me to get there. The day will go on.”

She wears a questionable expression and goes right back totyping. I don’t miss the smile she’s trying to hide as she keeps busy.

“Am I distracting you, Selah?”

She shakes her head as she scrolls her mouse.

“The other tattoos on your fingers, what do they mean? I noticed the one with your name, but the other one?”

She lifts her right ring finger to give me a closer look. “This is one of my newer tattoos.Ctrl, my favorite SZA album. It’s been a soundtrack for navigating my twenties as a Black woman.”

I listen intently as she explains. I love the way she lights up while talking about her tattoos. I’ll ask until I’ve learned the story behind each one of them.

She brings her left index closer, which readsSelah.

“It’s my name, but it’s also a song by Emeli Sandé that I love. If you’ve caught on by now, all my tattoos are inspired by music.”

“Noted.” I nod with a smile that she returns before focusing on her tasks.

Whenever I’ve shown interest in something that’s important to Selah, she’s always so shocked. It’s as if she has no idea how fascinating she really is. Something tells me there’s a lot to learn from the songs behind these tales scribed on her skin. I pull out my phone to make a quick note for myself.

Happier Than Ever.

Ctrl.

Selah.

Listen to these immediately.

I look at the time and can't help but notice the messages from Hazel. She hasn’t been blowing me up, but she’s concerned because it’s not like me to show up late. I respond, assuring her that I am fine and will be in shortly. I decide that I’ve avoided work long enough and should leave Selah to hers.

I enjoy the view of her scrunched brows as she concentrates, loudly typing and chewing on her lip while she reads along. My coffee is envious as I drink her in. I savor this moment andcommit her to memory in case there isn’t another opportunity to admire her this closely again. I reluctantly clear my throat to gain her attention, to which she peers up with those big brown eyes and in this moment, I don’t want to leave.

“I should probably get going.”

“Yeah. Probably. It’s good to be employed,” she says sarcastically. I chuckle and rise from my seat, grabbing my coffee cup. We do that thing again where we’re both speaking at the same time. I’m saying goodbye, and I think she’s talking about therapy.

I need to shut up and listen.

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