Page 15 of Best Year Ever

Dr. Mercer, if you please. (Oh, I please.)

And I’m probably going to have to call him Grayson.

5

GRAYSON

Iscroll through the list of appointments, checking to see if I can take a lunch break that will be worth Sage’s time.

Even as I think it, I know that’s a bad way for me to put it. Too much pressure. And deciding how much her time is worth is more than I can comfortably do.

I look up from the screen, and Kimberly is watching me. She has a look on her face that’s not so much smug as knowing. As if she understands something unspoken about me.

And she’s not wrong.

I push my chair back until my head leans against the wall behind me. “Look, I know this date doesn’t have to be an event.”

She didn’t ask me what I was thinking about. But she didn’t have to ask. The same way I didn’t have to explain from the beginning. Kimberly understands.

I keep talking. “We can just go out, eat a sandwich, sit and talk.”

I look to see if she agrees with me. She’s not nodding, but she’s not shaking her head, either. Do I need to convince her?

I say, “Living here and being around all these Chamberlain students who are so used to everything being super extra amazing all the time gives a guy a complex about simple things, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Is that all you’re saying?” she asks. Her tone is light, but I hear what she means. She wants me to be honest about what worries me.

“Okay. Just tell me it’s not lame to do something small, please. Help me feel better.”

“She didn’t say yes to a date with you because she wants to see how big an event you’ll manufacture. She said yes because she is interested in getting to know you better. An hour of great conversation. That’s your best bet.”

Okay. I do feel better. “Thanks, Kimberly.”

As she heads to the front desk to open the clinic, she says, “Of course, I haven’t been on a first date in thirty years. Maybe you shouldn’t take advice from me.”

“And she fires the parting shot,” I say to her back. She turns and grins over her shoulder. I go back to the appointment calendar and see a nice, lunch-sized gap.

Sage works until midnight, but I have no idea if she’s a phone call in the morning person. I decide to send her a text.

‘Would you like to meet me for lunch today?’

She responds right away. Excellent sign. Yes. I feel very good about this.

‘Maybe. Who is this?’

Good feelings gone.

‘Grayson.”

Is that enough? There’s no response, so I keep typing.

‘Mercer.’

There’s a long enough pause that I feel myself starting to sweat. Seriously? Is she checking to see if today is a good day? Or is she just trying to assert some kind of authority here? I could tell her she doesn’t need to work at that. She can have all the authority she wants.

Finally, I see the dots pulsing. She takes longer than she needs to say yes. But she also takes longer than she needs to say no.

Finally, her text pops into my screen.

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