Page 39 of Connectio
“Good morning, William,” Carly drawls. “Big day ahead?”
His eyes scale my body like Spider-Man would a wall before he chokes out, “Yes. Very big.”
“Excellent!” She scurries off, and for a second I think she’s being chased by a T-Rex.
“Where is she go—”
“You look different,” Will says, eyeing my skirt.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
My fingers grip my hip, my voice wavering. “I… I always look like this.”
He raises his hands. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, Elizabeth. I just mean you look different. Still stunning, of course. Just”—he tilts his head—“different.” He bends and picks up his toolbox. “After you.”
Will gestures toward the office building, his arm outstretched, muscles bulging underneath the sleeve of his fluorescent-orange polo shirt. His collar is up, which I’ve always found arrogant, but for some reason on Will, it’s much more endearing.
“Thank you,” I say, dipping my head to his khaki shorts and large tool belt. Did he just say I’m stunning?
My cheeks heat a little, so I make my way to the office and am nearly cleaned up by Sally when she wrenches the heavy glass entrance door open.
“Sorry. Oh! Hey, Lib.” She gives me a quick onceover. “You look… different.”
“That’s what I said.”
Sally blinks at Will while his giant python arm holds open the door for us. She doesn’t speak at first, but then garbled words eventually leave her mouth.
“It’s you!” She points at him. “Delicious. Caveman. How? I’m confused.”
“You’re confused?” he prompts, chuckling.
I put her out of her misery, although she doesn’t seem miserable at all, her eyes twinkling like fairy lights.
“He’s the plumber contracted to fix the pipes, Sal.”
“You fix pipes?”
He smiles. “I do.”
“I have pipes,” she blurts.
Will nods and smirks at me, then says to Sal, “In or out?”
Her eyes widen and she stutters, as if she doesn’t know how to answer. “B-Both?”
“Both?”
“Well, yeah.” She lets out an awkward laugh. “In and out.”
I’m confused, and by the looks of Will’s furrowed forehead, he is too.
“How can you be going in and out?”
Sally’s face flushes pink. “Ohhh.” She shakes her head and blurts, “I thought we were talking about sex.” Morphing from a shade of pink to fire-engine red, she also blurts, “Out. I’m going out. Thank you. Goodbye.”
She hurries toward her car, and I bite my lip to refrain from laughing.
