Page 43 of You & I, Rewritten

A text from Graham lights up across my screen. He’s taken a selfie of himself in his office holding a mug of coffee.Ugh.He’s so dreamy.

I’m instantly a puddle of mush and my face hurts from smiling. This man knows how to pull atallllllof my heartstrings and it doesn’t even seem like he’s trying.

“Hold the elevator, please,” a voice calls out right before the elevator doors close. I instinctively jam my hand through the opening, forcing them back open.

One of the most glamorous women I’ve ever seen rushes through the now open elevator doors, shooting me a smile of appreciation as she stands next to me.

“Thank you so much…floor 21, please.” I detect a beautiful and alluring accent in her voice. Italian? Is it weird that she’s spoken a handful of words and I desperately want to just sit and listen to her talk all day? I’m obnoxious.

She’s dressed impeccably. Her petite frame is wrapped in a long gray overcoat with a simple satin blouse underneath that’s been tucked into deep olive, wide-legged trousers. Very similar to how Klair wears her hair, this lovely and stylish woman has her long, thick, dark hair loosely curled, framing her dark features.She’s gorgeous..

The doors open and I step aside, letting my glamazon companion exit first. “Have a nice day,” I say in her direction before heading toward my desk. “Oh, and I love your coat.”

She smiles, her entire face radiating warmth and kindness. “That’s sweet of you to say. Thank you!” she says, winking at me.

We both seem to be heading in the same direction, which makes me feel foolish for saying a farewell. Well, that’s uncomfortable. Slowing my stride so that I’m not in lockstep with this random woman, it is now that I realize just how awkward of a human being I am.Why am I like this?I laugh to myself, shooting her a quick glance to make sure she’s not gawking at my weirdness. The repetitive punctuation of her killer heels is every bit the sound of authority as she rounds the corner into our office section, clearly familiar with where she’s heading.

I spy Graham leaning against his office door, coffee mug still in hand. He’s looking down, his attention pulled to whatever book he’s reading, but at the increasing volume of my new friend’s heels, his head pops to attention and flashes an enormous grin in my direction.

“Mama!” he says warmly, the greeting clearly not intended for me.

Mama?I turn toward who I am now learning is Mrs. Austin and, seeing the two of them side-by-side, the resemblance is uncanny. While Graham is a near spitting image of his father, seeing him next to his mother highlights very clearly that everything I adore about him has been inherited from his mom. His piercing and intense eyes, full and thick hair, and that poreless skin of his that makes me green with envy.

“Buenos dias, mi amor,” she says, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“¿Qué haces aquí?” he says back, catching me off guard. I don’t think I’ll ever get used tothat.The two of them continue going back and forth as they step into Graham’s office, with me trailing awkwardly behind them like a love-sick puppy. The closeness of their relationship is wildly obvious despite having no idea what they are saying.

Turning his gaze back to me, Graham sits on the edge of his desk. “I’m so sorry, Will. This is my mother, Dr. Camila Austin-Rojas.”

“Ay, mijo,”she says, swatting at his arm. “Please, call me Camila. So, you’re the famous Will? Que guapo!” she says to Graham. I know that one…I think? “Do you speak any Spanish, Will?” she asks, taking a step closer to me and putting her hand on my arm.

“Eh…” I’m kicking myself for taking French in high school. “Donde está la biblioteca?” I stammer out, my Spanish accent about as American as it gets.

Graham and Camila both burst into laughter, and I can’t help but join them.

“Really? Where is the library?” Graham teases, shaking his head.

“Hey, that just seems like a practical phrase to have in my back pocket in our line of work,” I say, defending myself but only slightly embarrassed.

“Okay, well we’re going to have to work on…that,” she says, her voice filled with a warmth that somehow only mothers possess as she gives me a tight embrace. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She smells of lavender and vanilla, a sweet aroma that feels familial and welcoming. Mom hugs are the best.

“Likewise,” I say, trying to hide my nervousness. I didn’t have meeting the mother of the man I’m sleeping with on my vision board this morning.

“I know you boys have a lot of work to do and your father is expecting me, so I won’t keep you.” Camila walks toward the door but pauses before leaving, turning back toward Graham. “I just stopped by to remind you one more time about our charity event this evening. You haven’t given me a definitive answer, so I figured I’d get your RSVP in person.” Mom guilt, I love it.

Graham runs a hand through his tousled hair, giving me a sideways glance as he does. “I’ll be there, Mama. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Ah, perfecto. I look forward to seeing youbothlater. It was so nice to meet you, Will!” she states over her shoulder, heading out the door with a flourish, her voice and the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway once more.

Turning my attention back to Graham, I put my hands up in question. “What the heck just happened?” I laugh, setting my bag down on his chair.

“The effervescent and ever-persuasive Camila just happened,” he says, shaking his head. Closing the space between us, he wraps me in a tight embrace. “Good morning, handsome. I missed you last night!”

“Yeah, let’s not make a habit of that,” I say, pulling him tighter to me and planting my lips quickly on his. Even though it is still early and hardly anyone is in the office, we keep visible public displays of affection like this brief. After all, perceptionisreality, and I would hate for anyone to think I was receiving preferential treatment because of our relationship.

“So…what did you think?” Graham asks inquisitively, handing me a waiting cup of coffee.

“Of your mother? I mean, talk about glamorous. Tell your father I’m sorry but it’s evident where you get your good looks from.” I take a sip of the delicious liquid, loving the fact that he’s perfected my coffee-to-cream ratio, but then a wave of insecurity rushes over me. “Were youplanningon inviting me to the event tonight?”

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