Page 18 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

We’d been writing back and forth for years, but most of it had been pleasant, chatty things. I’d fallen in love with him because I’d read his writing. He didn’t really have anything to fall in love with me over. I hadn’t given it to him.

I exhaled. If I was ever going to have any kind of chance with Kirk, I needed to meet him.

“Meow!”

I whipped my head to the side. Potato was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, sniffing the air of the living room.

"Hey, baby," I said. I blinked at her slowly. That's all I knew about how to speak to the cat. She slow-blinked back at me and meowed again. She sounded scared. Cautiously, she stepped into the room, making her way into the shadows, her body crouched low, ready to run away.

“Yeah, baby, me too,” I said. “Should I do it? Should I ask Kirk to meet me?”

I didn't want to shatter the dream. He was almost a pretend love: a fairytale love. It was a safe love. It didn't get messy or complicated, or painful because it wasn't real.

“I want something real,” I muttered. I turned to Potato, shining wide eyes at me from around the corner of the couch. “Should I ask him?”

“Meow!” Potato said.

I think she was really saying, "Wow, Jozi, our apartment is so scary, and you're here now. I have so many things I'm worried about, and I'm so scared… but I'm going exploring anyway, and you're so much taller than me, and it smells weird in here now." I took it as a "yes."

Dear Kirk, Kitty is doing great. She's exploring the new place bravely. I'm all settled in, and she's getting used to me being here. I love her already; she just doesn't know it yet. Do you think you'd ever want to meet me? In-person? Zee

I winced. I read over it almost ten times in a row. I could feel my heart racing. I'd been avoiding this moment for years. Keeping myself safe. And here I was, hinting that I loved him and asking to meet with him. I thought suddenly of Ian, posting about whatever woman left her lipstick on his bathroom counter. Posting about how she lit up his world.

I sent the email.

Chapter Eight

Kirk didn’t respond to my email for another twenty-four hours. I kept myself distracted at work, managing to not think about him. Mostly. When I thought about it, my stomach sloshed with anxiety.

It wasn't like asking someone out, not really. It was more frightening than that; if he said no, he never wanted to meet me. That meant that our friendship - more than a friendship to me - was over. Or that it had never meant that much to him in the first place.

And if he said yes? And if he said yes, but I didn't love him in person, and it didn't work out?

Or he said yes, and I loved him, but he didn't love me? Or he said yes, and we both loved each other. I spun around in my chair a lot that day. Finally, that night when I was brushing my teeth, my phone vibrated. I pounced on it. An email from Kirk.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay," I muttered, clicking on it. My heart was hammering.

Hi Zee, I’m glad things are going well! Say hi to the kitty for me.

No, I don’t think we should meet. I’m pretty preoccupied just now. Kirk

I held my phone in my hand, pressing my lips together. Disappointment and relief washed over me all at once. He didn't want to see me but hadn't told me no. He'd only given me a temporary no. And now, I didn't have to face the anxiety of meeting him.

"You probably are some creepy old man, aren't you?" I laughed.

I bit my lip and reread his email.

“Pretty preoccupied,” I muttered. “Does that mean you have a girlfriend? A girlfriend who wouldn’t like me to show up?”

I finished brushing my teeth, spitting into the sink as if I could spit out how my heart felt heavy.

“What am I to you, Kirk?” I murmured, picking up my phone again.

Well. If he wouldn’t meet with me, I could still introduce my true self by being more genuine in my emails. Talk about my emotions. Personal things.

"I might scare him off," I thought, picking up my phone and walking into my bedroom. I crawled under the covers. "But that doesn't really matter. I need to shatter this mould I've been living in."

Dear Kirk, Well, that was a start anyway. But I didn’t know what to write about. Oh, well, I could write about that. Make him a little jealous. Maybe.

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