Page 20 of Falling for Mr. Bossy Pants

“Thanks. That is good banana bread. I mean, it’s not a peanut butter deluxe cookie, but it is good.”

I hear Lacey softly laugh. “It is good. And thank you for liking my cookies.”

I need to change the subject. Fast. This is getting too… something.

“So let me tell you about these potential investors…” I start to say, when she interrupts.

“No need. I did some research on them already. Based on their annual report they have plenty of revenue to invest in something this big, and they probably should. They haven’t made any major investments in a few years, so my guess is this is perfect timing. They’re tech people. We make tech products. It’s a perfect fit if you ask me. I don’t know how much you want them to invest, but if I were you, I’d go big.”

My mouth opens. Everything Lacey just said lights a fire in me. I could reach over and kiss her right this second. I give myself exactly ten seconds to imagine kissing her before I feel my stomach churn and acid crawl up my throat. My breathing starts to become faster and I’m having trouble getting a full breath. I slowly pull over onto the shoulder and park the car. I can not let this happen right now, but I don’t seem to have much control at the moment. I try to think of some intelligent words to say when I see Lacey shift in her seat and face me. She directs me to look at her, so I do.

“Hey, Mr. Whitmore. You’re okay. Look at my fingers and pretend they’re candles. Now slowly take a breath and blow out each one.”

I stare at her completely mortified. I obey her because it feels like the right thing to do. When I am done blowing out her fifth finger candle, I can feel my heart begin to settle in my chest. I need to say something. She’s staring at me as concern spreads across her face. She needs to know I’m fine and nothing like this will happen during the meeting.

“Sorry about that. I just got a little overwhelmed.” I say, hoping we can just drop it.

“Mr. Whitmore it happens to everyone. I’m no stranger to anxiety, and it can creep up on you. I’ve read every self-help book on the market about coping strategies. Anyway, if you’re good, let’s keep going so we aren’t late to the meeting okay?”

I am taken aback by her response. The ease which she lets this go without further conversation leaves me feeling grateful because in less than twenty minutes we are about to ask for a lot of money from some very wealthy executives.

***

The meeting went well. Really well. And I have Lacey to thank for it. She not only had a bunch of numbers already calculated out for them, but she advocated why this would be a good project for them to invest in. That’smyjob, but I wasn’t about to complain. She hit it out of the ballpark. This woman continues to impress me by the minute. As we turn down East Street I see one of my favorite restaurants. It’s near lunchtime and everyone has to eat lunch right? I did tell myself I would do better at eating, so this is the perfect opportunity to get some real food that’s not a cookie or banana bread.

“Have you been to The Flats?” I ask casually.

Lacey looks over to see the restaurant as we near. “Oh, no I haven’t. I hear it’s great though.”

“Well, this is your lucky day. Let’s get some lunch. They have a great menu and I’m hungry after all that talking.”

The truth is I’m not that hungry, but I know I’m not ready to leave Lacey yet.

Lacey turns to me. “Oh, that sounds like a great idea.”

She seems reserved in her reaction. Maybe she’s feeling the tension. Maybe I’m the one putting off the tension? I don’t know. I can’t tell. I just know I feel different around her and I need to try to figure out what the heck this is.

We sit by the windows and order our food. I get grilled salmon with a salad and Lacey orders grilled chicken with asparagus. The food is delicious and after talking about the meeting some more I decide to change the topic.

“So Lacey, are you from Littleford?” I ask, figuring it’s an easy question to start with.

“No actually. I’m from Henderson. Nevada. Beth and I went to college together there and she dragged me back here to Utah because she’s from here. I fell in love with the town, so I haven’t left. What about you? Well, I mean I know you are because of your family name, but I guess what I’m asking is…I don’t know… I… um…”

I stop her, though watching her facial expressions as she thinks is making my skin itch. “The Whitmore name right. Well, it’s funny because it’s really my grandfather who was the big businessman and gave a lot of his money to the community. But when he passed, he left my dad with a big trust and my dad just wanted to teach math so that’s what he did but uses the trust to fund community projects and help out small businesses. He loves this town.”

“Oh, that’s really generous of him,” she says.

She’s right. Most people who get a large trust probably wouldn’t give huge sums of money to their hometown or help out small businesses, but that’s exactly what my dad does, and I try to follow in his shoes. We spend the next half hour making small talk about everything from the weather to music (which I was surprised to learn that she loves classical music too). She answers everything in a cheery and positive light. Even when her mom’s passing enters the conversation, she handles it with grace.

On the ride back to the office there’s comfortable silence. It’s not awkward and I don’t get the sense either of us are itching to fill it. I’m not sure why it wouldn’t be comfortable. This certainly isn’t a date; even I know a work lunch doesn’t count as a date. Why am I thinking about this? I do not want to date. Do I? Before I can let my brain digest whether I want to date or not I pull into my spot outside the building. We head into the lobby and press the button in the elevator to our floor. I look at Lacey who gives me a partial smile hoping she enjoyed our lunch. As we climb to the tenth floor the silence starts to eat at me.

“Lacey, thank you for today. You were great, and I think we sold them on it,” I say in my most calm and professional voice as my body fights the urge to lean closer to her.

“Anytime Mr. Whitmore. I think we did great too. And thank you for lunch. I plan on going back there soon to get the salmon.”

The elevator chimes as the door opens. We step off and Lacey goes down the hall to the right. It takes every ounce of my being not to follow her, but I head to the left hallway and make my way to my office.

Today was a good day and I need to leave it at that.

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