Holding on to Someday Read online
Page 9
“It’s okay. I’m not worried about it,” I tell her. I walk around my desk to sit beside her, so it appears we are having a legitimate ‘business’ conversation. Ahem. “So… I couldn’t sleep all night. I tossed and turned, not being able to turn off my brain.”
Angie’s eye widen, “Brady?”
“Yes.”
Giggling, she covers her mouth, “Sorry… go on.”
“I laid in bed all night thinking about him. I don’t know what it is, but I just kept thinking about what he said about hoping to eat lunch with me one day. Not to mention the fact that he is very attractive… that didn’t help settle my brain either. Needless to say, I was tired this morning, so I decided to stop and get coffee. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw him in line. I couldn’t decide what to do… if I should talk to him or not. I was too chicken, so I just stood there. But, while I was ordering my coffee, he came up and spoke to me.”
Angie has this stupid, googly-eyed, look plastered on her face. “Annnnnnd? Continue please….”
Laughing, I continue. “So, he speaks to me, and we make small talk. He asked if I was going to be at the café for lunch today. I told him I wouldn't be because I was leaving town, and that was about it."
Angie continues looking at me, waiting for more. I continue, "I get this feeling around him. I had butterflies… BUTTERFLIES… in my stomach the whole time. He had the biggest grin plastered on his face when he saw me. I don’t know, Angie…” I trail off, not sure what else to say.
“Girl… you have the hots for Mr. Brady Reese!” Angie squeals, clapping her hands over her mouth and bouncing her legs up and down.
“I probably don’t even have a chance with him,” I say shaking my head. Knowing my luck, he’s either married or already dating someone. “He’s probably just a nice guy who needed a place to sit yesterday, and it happened to be a coincidence that we saw each other this morning.”
I’ve pretty much given up all hope of dating anyone at this point in my life, especially someone as attractive as Brady Reese. Angie sees the disappointment on my face and says, “Let’s take it one day at a time. The fact that you are even talking about a guy is a huge step for you. When you get back from Chicago, we’ll see if anything happens.”
She’s right. No time to think about this right now anyway. I have a plane to catch in less than two hours.
17
The Waiting Game
It’s Thursday morning, and I’m back from Chicago. I have to admit; I’m so anxious about lunch today I can hardly focus on work. Thoughts of Brady Reese have consumed me since Monday when I ran into him at the café. I keep watching the clock, waiting for lunchtime to roll around.
I mindlessly fill out paperwork and return phone calls; I’ve done this so long it comes naturally now. Angie peeks her head into my office around 11:15 and says, “Charles is taking me to lunch today. You want to join us?”
“Nah… I think I’m going to head to the Corner Café for lunch today,” I tell her. When I look up and see her bright smile, I know she knows my intentions. “That's what I figured,” she says and spins on her heels to return to her desk. I’ll wait one more hour.
After what seems like forever, I look at the clock to find it's only 11:40. Really? Has it only been ten minutes? This hour is going to feel like a week if I don’t find some way to distract myself.
After checking the clock no less than ten times, it finally reads 12:15. I grab my purse and head out the door. When I pass Angie’s desk, I smile at her and say, “I’m off to lunch,” and she laughs at me. “Have fun!” she calls out as I walk out the door.
I stop by the restroom to make sure I’m presentable. I opted for a pantsuit today and left my hair down. Standing in front of the mirror, I give my locks a fluff and reapply my lip-gloss. With a pop of my lips, I smooth my jacket and head out the door.
There is a little bounce in my step as I soak up the afternoon sun. The anticipation of seeing Brady at lunch makes me feel younger than my 38 years. I'm smiling as I walk into the crowded restaurant and scan the room. It’s packed as usual. After placing my order, I look around the room again. I don’t spot him. Is he even here?
My usual table is open, so I take a seat. Annnd, that’s where I wait for the next hour. Every time the door opens, I hear the ding of the bell and look up.
Not him.
I take a longer lunch today thinking he may show up at any minute, but he never does. It’s approaching 2 pm so I know I need to get back to the office. I gather my belongings, which isn’t much since I didn’t bring a book today or even take my phone out of my purse.
I'm in a rotten mood as I walk back to the office because I was so sure he would be there today. When I enter the office, Angie knows I didn't see him from the look on my face. I shake my head and go about the rest of my day.
♦♦♦
The next day at lunch I decide I’ll try again. I leave a little earlier this time, thinking maybe he takes lunch earlier than I thought. So around 11:30 I head out the door to take my lunch break. This time I grab my laptop, so I can appear to be “working” at lunch today and to help pass the time if he’s running late. And, yet again, I sit there for two hours, and he never shows. Gah.
Same goes for Friday. He's a no-show once again.
Even though I’m not usually uptown on the weekend, I’m tempted to make a coffee run for breakfast on Saturday. Instead, I spend the weekend distracting myself. I clean my apartment, organize closets, rearrange bookshelves, and change bed sheets. I go to church, I go out to get groceries, and I watch movies. Still, nothing I do keeps my mind off the handsome man consuming my thoughts. I count down the hours until Monday's lunch break rolls around.
♦♦♦
There is a pull to Brady I can't explain. Just a few interactions that we've had has my thoughts returning to him on a daily basis. Maybe it's the unknown. Maybe it's attention from a man. Whatever it is, I can't get him out of my head.
As soon as the clock chimes 11 am on Monday, I’m out the door and on my way to my favorite café. I order my food and set up camp in my usual spot. Chicken salad croissant, potato chips, a pickle, sweet tea with lemon, and my laptop. They don’t start serving lunch until 10:30, so if I’m not early enough today, I don’t know what else to do. Geez… I’m already not expecting him to be here again, but here I wait.
Lunch passes, and he’s still a no-show. I feel like Bella when she’s waiting on Edward to show up at school, but he never does. Twilight… now I want to watch the movie. I digress.
I know Brady isn't waiting around the café in hopes of seeing me…like I have been. It was two random meetings; probably just a fluke seeing him there when I did. I need to get past this because it will consume me if I let it. I pack up my belongings once again and head back to the office.
As soon as I enter the door, I look at Angie sitting at her desk and say, “I need to see you in my office, please,” and keep walking. She immediately gets up and follows behind me. She sits in front of my desk, but I’m still standing, looking out the window over the parking lot behind our building.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, turning to face her. “Nothing at all because he wasn’t there. Again.” She can see the disappointment on my face, and she lets out a long sigh.
“Did I dream all of this, or make it up?” I ask, sitting down. “Please tell me if I’m way overboard here because I can’t let myself go there if this isn’t real. Why am I so consumed with him?” Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a sigh of frustration. I don’t know what has come over me.
“Clara, come on now. Why are you getting so upset over this guy? You don’t even know him,” she says. “You’ve parked yourself in that café for three days waiting for him.”
“I know… and that’s the problem. Ugh!” I need to move on. There is no sense wallowing in something that was never there, to begin with.
“Let’s look at the big picture here….mmmka
y,” Angie says. “A hot guy asked to sit at your table on a crowded day. He smiled at you, and you melted. You run into him again at the coffee shop the next day, and you make small talk for like… what?.... five minutes… and then you don’t see him again for a week. For all we know, he doesn’t even live here.”
I quickly interject, “But remember, he’s seen me there quite a few times before. Point number two from our previously drawn conclusions,” I remind her.
“Pfsssh… and you are gonna hang onto those conclusions forever.” She says, rolling her eyes at me.
“Well…” I'm not sure what else to say.
“The best advice I can give you is to forget about him. If you see him out…great. If he speaks to you… great. If not…then don’t dwell on it.” Angie can be very direct when she needs to; which is probably good in this case.
“Angie, I'm 38 years old. In case you haven’t noticed, there are not many guys knocking on my door to ask me out. Ever.” I know she means well but being thirty and engaged is a different ballgame than being in your late thirties and never married. Heck, it's a completely different sport altogether.
“He didn't even ask you out!" she yelps.
I pause and give her a wide-eyed, shocked expression.
"I’m sorry, Clara. I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t want to see you hurt. Especially over someone, you don’t even know,” she says, coming around to put her arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go out tonight… grab some supper… or we can go to my place if you want. How about it?” she asks.
“Sure,” I reply. “That’s better than sitting at home alone.”
18
Coffee and Simple Touches
I'd had a sucky weekend to top off a sucky week prior. I wasted a perfectly good weekend, sitting around the house sulking. Why? I don’t even know. It’s not like I was dating this guy, so why I allowed myself to get so wound up about him infuriates me. A sucky Monday was the icing on the cake. So, Monday night Angie and I went out to supper and didn't speak of Brady Reese at all. She pretty much nailed it when she made a comment about him not even asking me out. I decided to move on.
It's now Tuesday morning, and I'm giving myself a pep talk as I get ready for work. I will not dwell on the past or think about Brady Reese. I am going to push him out of my mind and if I run into him again, great...if I don't, no sweat. I take a big breath of fresh air. Cleansing breaths… … cleansing thoughts… out of sight, out of mind.
I decide to stop for coffee before heading to the office this morning. I will fill myself with fresh, cleansing thoughts and caffeine. Yep, that’s what I need. A boost of artificial adrenaline.
Just when I decide to move on, I look and see the one person I'm trying to forget. The one and only, Brady Reese.
Dang it.
He spots me just as I spot him, and a huge grin spreads across his face. He’s looking handsome as ever in his black pinstripe suit and silver shirt.
I take in the sight of him, this gorgeous specimen of a man walking toward me, and I can’t help but smile too. His grin is infectious, and those darn dimples make me want to run my fingers across his cheeks. After a week of waiting to see him, and the whole pep talk I gave myself this morning about putting him out of my mind, here he stands in front of me.
We meet at the door.
“Good morning, Clara. Fancy seeing you here again,” he says.
I think I mumble some inaudible sounds. Brady seems to have this effect on me where I am incapable of forming words. I'm finally able to say, “Hi.”
He proceeds to open the door and motions for me to go in ahead of him. I stand, unable to move for a moment. It seems he’s capable of cementing my feet to the ground as well. “After you,” he says, and I decide I must move my feet. “Cat got your tongue this morning?” he asks as he walks in behind me.
“No. I’m sorry, just surprised to see you here is all,” I tell him.
“Oh. Why so?” he asks. Now I have to form words in my brain. Focus on the question… not on his beautiful dark eyes, I tell myself. “It’s nothing really... just, I didn’t see you any last week,” I tell him. Oh, man. Did I give myself away? I must seem like I have been looking for him.
“Ah, well, that’s because I had branch training last week, so I was out of the office. I miss my mornings when I can’t get my required caffeine,” he says.
My eyes grow wide, and suddenly I feel a little uplifting beat begin to flicker inside me. Lifting my hand like a pledge, I say, “Yep, I can relate.”
“So where do you work?” I ask him in hopes that was not too forward a question. After all, we are just making small talk, right?
“I work for Bank of America. I’m at the main headquarters just around the corner, but we have branches all over Charlotte, so sometimes I travel. Last week was a training week,” he tells me.
We stand in line until the cashier asks to take our order. Brady motions for me to go ahead, so I step up to order my usual mocha latte. When she begins to tell me my total, Brady steps up and says, “I’d like to pay for her order as well as mine, please.” He looks at me with that killer smile and asks, “Is that okay with you?”
I nod.
The cashier, looking aggravated, as usual, smacks her gum and says, “Ok, fine, what do you want?” Ignoring her attitude, Brady orders a caramel macchiato, and I make a mental note of that. Just for safekeeping.
“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” I respond.
He places his hand near my lower back and guides me toward the pick-up counter. “It was my pleasure to buy you a cup of coffee this morning," he says, smiling down at me. I know I heard words spoken, but all I could focus on was the heat that erupted in my back when he placed his hand there. We wait at the pick-up counter without speaking. I glance around the room, and when I look back toward the counter, Brady’s eyes are on me. Heat pierces my soul when we make eye contact. I smile and blush, and then the woman calls our names to pick up our drinks. Brady grabs them and hands me mine, saying, “For you.”
Gosh. He is very charming and handsome.
He smiles. “Do you have a few minutes to sit before you go into the office? While we drink our coffee.”
All I can manage to get out is a tiny "sure," but he must have understood it because he places his hand on my back and guides me to an empty table in the corner. He pulls out my chair, and I sit. “Thank you,” I tell him, placing my briefcase on the floor beside me.
“So, now that I’ve told you where I work, tell me what you do?” he says with a smile. “I know you have to be close by too.”
“Ummm… yeah….” I stutter, still trying to recover from not only one, but two touches from the brown-haired, handsome man who just purchased my cup of coffee and asked me to sit with him. “Sorry… yes. I work at ECM Corp. It’s just around the corner.” I tell him.
“And what does ECM Corp do?” he asks.
I laugh because the initials give nothing away. It’s a large corporation, but I often forget that if you are not in the marketing business, you probably have no idea what it is. “Oh sorry… it’s Eastern Coast Marketing Corporation. I’m a marketing consultant.”
“Was that why you were out of town week before last? On a job?” he asks.
Surprised that he remembered, I tell him “Yes, I was helping a firm in Chicago wrap up their contract with us.”
“Ahh… sounds interesting. Now I’m curious to know what you actually do. I’ve never known a marketing consultant before,” he says. His dark eyes peer at me over the cup as he sips his coffee.
“Basically, I help smaller businesses develop effective marketing strategies. Sometimes that involves assisting start-ups in terms of positioning and branding or collaborating with an existing business to launch a new product. In other cases, it could involve web development services...we do many different things. My job is to meet with clients to find out what they need, and then we develop a plan from there.”
“So you travel a good bit th
en?” he asks.
“Yes, unfortunately so,” I respond.
“Why is it unfortunate?” he asks.
“Well, I’ve spent my whole career traveling the US. I’ve seen a lot of places, but eventually, I would like to settle down. Not be on the go as much. You know?” I say it like he’s supposed to know my desires for the future.
To my surprise, he does. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve traveled plenty in my career, but I was ready to settle down and have a family, so I took the job I have now. I still travel, but it’s local, and it’s not very often… only a few times a year.”
As soon as I hear him reference a family, I immediately look at his left hand, expecting to see a ring on his finger, but there is none. I decide to go ahead and get it out of the way, “So how many kids do you have? I bet they are glad you don’t travel so much now.”
I know I'm a bit forward, but I need to know these things before I pursue anything further with this man. There is an inexplicable sadness in his eyes when he responds, “Oh, I don’t have any kids. I’m not married.”
“Oh,” is the only response I can manage, while I hide my face behind my coffee cup. Brady went from perky and talkative to closed off almost immediately. I decide not to pry. I need to get to work, so I stand and scoot my chair back under the table. He lifts his head to look at me.
“Thank you, Brady, for the coffee and the morning chat, but I need to get to work,” I say, bending to retrieve my briefcase.
He stands and says, “I should probably do the same.”
The air is different between us now, and I feel uncomfortable and unsure of what to do or say next. So, I settle for, “Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime. I hope you have a good week.” With that, I walk out of the cafe and try not to look back at him.