Page 26 of Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World
“Here at Dark Enterprises, we pride ourselves on recognizing potential and developing it to its fullest extent.” She leaned back in her chair as she spoke. “Samantha Price was quite impressed by your willingness to realize your ambitions, whatever the cost to others. That kind of work ethic certainly aligns with our corporate values. But now you must impressme, Colin, and however exacting Ms.Price’s standards are, mine are more so. Is that clear?”
I bobbled my head up and down.
“My advice? Worry less about how you ended up on thirteen, and more about how to survive here.” She turned away. “Have a nice weekend.”
Eleven
After another restless night, Iregained consciousness on Saturday morning with one powerful, overriding thought:I have a blind date today.
While Amira worked at the dining table, I drank too much coffee and shuffled distractedly around the apartment until she started giving me the evil eye. Then I spent more than an hour trying on almost everything in my closet, my despair deepening with every passing outfit, until I looked at my phone and realized I had less than ninety minutes until I was supposed to meet this Eric person. Fleeing into the bathroom, I hovered in front of the mirror and started fretting about every pore, freckle, and eyelash.
Sometime later, I was tweezing several rogue nose hairs and trying not to cry when I noticed Amira leaning against the doorframe, her expression one of mingled amusement and exasperation. “I’m trying to finish this presentation,” she said, “and your yelps and sobs are distracting me.”
Glaring at her in the mirror, I gave a particularly vicious yank with the tweezers and stifled a whimper. “I am notsobbing,” I insisted when I’d regained the ability to speak.
“If you say so. Now put the tweezers down and show me what you’re going to wear.”
After rejecting the first four shirts I selected, Amira gave her grudging approval to the fifth. Then we had a long, occasionally acrimonious conversation about pants. Finally, she pronounced me ready and handed me my wallet, my keys, and my shoes after I tried to leave without all three of them.
I hesitated at the door. “Do you think he’ll think I’m weird?”
“Probably.”
“Amira.”
Smiling, she gave me a quick hug. “He’s going to love you,” she promised me. “Now get going. And remember, I want details when you get home.”
About ten seconds after Iwalked into the trendy little coffee shop, I realized two things: first, handlebar mustaches were still a thing in secluded enclaves of the Upper West Side; and second, Eric was way out of my league.
The mustache thing threw me, I’ll admit. Every guy in there was rocking some seriously preposterous facial hair, and for a terrifying moment I wondered if Amira had set me up with some kind of aged hipster. I’d only seen Eric from behind, after all. Thankfully, however, when I spotted someone matching his description lounging in an overstuffed chair at the back of the coffee shop, he was mustache-free. He was also a major hottie. Ankle resting casually on one knee,he wore a battered black leather jacket that practically oozed masculine confidence. When he saw me, he jumped to his feet with a dazzling smile that sent a tingle through my whole body.
“Colin, hey,” he said as I reached him. “I recognize you from the photo Amira showed me. I’m Eric Cho. It’s great to meet you!” Then, before I could do more than begin to stammer some inane greeting, he folded me into a strong hug. He smelled like warm leather and, under that, hints of sandalwood and spice. It made me want to bury my nose in the side of his neck and spend the rest of the day huffing him like glue, but that was probably more of a third-date thing, so with genuine reluctance I pulled back when he released me.
Like an idiot, I observed, “Wow. You’re a hugger.”
His smile was replaced by an expression of concern. “Was that too much?”
“No, no, no,” I insisted with an unfortunate air of desperation. “It made my day. My whole week, in fact. It was just…unexpected.” I flashed him a nervous smile and he relaxed visibly.
“Well, you’re cuter in person. I couldn’t resist.” Dimples appeared as he grinned, and I broke into a full-body sweat. “Have a seat. What can I get you?”
“A latte, thanks.” He nodded and headed for the counter while I sank into the other chair, hastily adjusting my shirt to disguise any obvious physical flaws. I watched as he spoke with the heavily pierced barista and paid for our coffees, psyching myself up all the while, and when he returned, I burst out with “You’re cute. Close up, I mean. Too.”
Eric paused, then lowered himself into his chair with a soft laugh. He was wearing faded jeans that fit him like a glove and a plain black T-shirt under his jacket, and it was working for me. Boy was it ever working for me. “Thanks.” He studied me for a moment,then reached over to grip my knee. “You seem nervous,” he observed. “Do you want to go somewhere else? The mustaches in here are a lot.”
I took a deep breath and tried to relax. “Sorry,” I said ruefully. “I’m fine. Really. I don’t go on a lot of dates. But I’m good. Better than good, in fact, if I don’t focus directly on the mustaches.”
He released my knee and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. I don’t go on a lot of dates, either, so I definitely get it. This stuff can be nerve-racking.”
Our coffees arrived, borne by a mustache of truly epic proportions, and I studied Eric surreptitiously as we both leaned forward to take our mugs from the low table in front of our chairs. His skin was a deep bronze, and his eyes were framed by long lashes that I found utterly irresistible. High cheekbones and a strong chin with a hint of stubble turned his features into a compelling geometry of points and angles, and his thick, dark hair was styled into a preppy side part that gave him a boyish charm. Honestly, I could have looked at him forever. Then he glanced sidelong at me and caught me staring, and I spluttered into my latte.
“So you don’t go on a lot of dates,” I gasped once I’d recovered, using a napkin to dab at the milk foam decorating my upper lip. “I find that hard to believe.”
One eyebrow twitched as he settled back in his chair. “Why?”
I gestured meaningfully, trying to encompass his entire being. “I mean, you’re…this.”
“What, in my thirties?” he asked with a smile.
