Page 3 of Marry Me, Right Now

“You’ll see when we get a five letter word that needs that O for the second letter. Token of value.”

“Money.”

I laughed as I filled it in. “I would have gotten that eventually. If only I could get some real money someday.”

His head cocked to the side. “You said that you have a job.”

“Yeah, but when rent is nearly eighty percent of your income, you’re permanently broke.”

He blinked a few times. “Those financial planning books say that your rent is only supposed to be thirty percent of your income.”

I laughed a little too loudly, accidentally releasing some frustration. “Maybe for people who can afford financial planning books. They’ve never worked a minimum wage job while trying to afford life in this crazy city.”

A strange mixture of what I interpreted as concern, worry, and confusion crossed his face. “What happens if you don’t find an apartment? How long do you have?”

My pen began tapping against the table, and it took me a few seconds to stop it, and try to control my shaking hand. It was one thing to acknowledge that my predicament was severe, but saying it aloud to a stranger… I just couldn’t.

Shaking my head, I read out, “Six letter word that means ‘to support’. Ends in T.”

“Assist.”

“Thanks,” I said, filling it in. “You’re pretty good at these.” He seemed quite pleased with himself. “Venue for live entertainment – that’s theatre. How about the unit of ownership of a company?”

“Share,” he said automatically, peering at the puzzle. “And institutional rank is CEO.”

“Cool.” I looked up at him after printing in the letters. “You look like the kind of person who would know a few CEOs.”

Jacob looked a bit uncomfortable. “Well, I am one, actually.”

“Really? What corporation?”

“Stoneburrowes Investments.”

“What does an investment company CEO actually do all day?” He looked at me strangely. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, I’m just a curious person.”

He nodded, sipping his coffee. “I like that. Well, I sit in far too many meetings making sure that high strung people are listening to each other properly, and checking that absolutely all relevant information is in our hands before we throw money around.”

I laughed harder than I had in a while, which seemed to please him. “You’re basically a daycare teacher for suit guys? And here I thought you’d say number crunching and data analysis.”

“Oh, yeah. But I usually do that from home so that nobody bugs me.”

Thinking about bugs in a home brought me down again, but I tried to continue. “The semicircular space in front of a stage. Ends with an A.” I stared into my coffee for a moment. “My theatre friends would likely slap me for not knowing this.”

“Do you know a lot of theatre people?”

“Sort of. Actors, musicians, artists. A lot of people with shaggy hair who wear black and make a lot of noise,” I giggled, surprising myself. The way he was looking at me was making me feel strangely girlish.

“That’s wonderful,” he said. “You must hear about all of the best shows.”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Oh – Orchestra,” he said, pointing. “The orchestra pit in front of the stage, right?”

“Yes! Thanks.”

He finished his coffee, and I realized that I didn’t want him to leave. I was enjoying the little escape from my stress, and he had such positive energy.

“Why are you in this neighborhood?” I asked suddenly. “Wouldn’t your office be right downtown?”

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