Page 64 of Written By a Woman

Was I delusional for thinking that we had both been working towards something together? There were multiple moments in the past few months where I could have sworn she was feeling for me just as I was feeling for her, and yet the fact that she went on a sudden lunch date implies otherwise.

How much longer would it be for her to quit work here, or me to wait the appropriate amount of time to ask her out after she quits so I don’t seem over eager, and then have us going on a first date?

She needed to wait for me, for us, but I had no way of communicating that to her without crossing several ethical boundaries in the workplace. That, and there was still a very real possibility that when I eventually asked Signe on a date, she would be uninterested in doing so. So, there I was, standing awkwardly at Signe’s desk while she vented to me about the loser she went to lunch with. Focusing way too hard on settling my facial expression into a relaxed one. Keeping my hands loose, instead of tight fists, hopefully coming off as friendly and listening, and not a man thinking,I want to grab your phone and delete every dating app you have downloaded until I can make my intentions clearlike an overbearing psychopath.

It wouldn’t be until later that night, when I visited my mother’s house again for our weekly dinner, that an idea came to mind. A purely selfish idea, that I refused to feel guilty about. I was watching my sisters load up my mother’s Tupperware with the many leftovers that would surely last a week and a half when I asked if I could take a few containers off of their hands.

My sisters, somehow, gave me looks that implied that they knew exactly why I was suddenly going out of my way to take enough leftovers for two people.

I ignored them.

The next day when I approached Signe at her desk, holding two Tupperware containers filled with my mother’s homemade cooking, I wondered if I was being too obvious.

“Do you have plans for lunch?” I asked her, lifting the second container as evidence to back up my entirely false claim, “My mom doesn’t seem to understand that I am one person, and can’t eat all of this on my own.”

Signe’s eyes lit up as a grin spread across her face, making me want to kiss her so badly that the muscles in my arms tightened with restraint. I was thankful that my hands were already busy holding the containers.

“I’ll never say no to Mama Ansara’s cooking,” Signe typed a couple of things on her computer before standing from her chair and making grabby-hands at the Tupperware I offered her.

“Thank you,” I smiled as I handed it over and we both started walking towards the break room, “Now it won’t all risk going bad.”

And that was how, a couple of times a week, Signe Lange and I started having lunch together. At first, I was nervous about this new routine because I usually ate lunch at my desk, or at whatever restaurant during another meeting. However, in my head, it was more important to rearrange my schedule for the foreseeable future, so that I could spend lunch with Signe. Perhaps, by spending half of the week’s lunches with her under the guise of having too many leftovers to eat myself, she wouldn’t feel the need to log back onto her stupid dating app and waste time with a man who probably wouldn’t be worthy of her attention anyway.

It was during the second week of this routine that Signe’s work friends joined us for the first time. As I watched Mary, Signe, and Jamie laugh and chat about their days, I wondered if I was holding Signe back with my plan. Perhaps I was keeping her from finding someone who she would be happy with.

I then decided that I didn’t care.

I wasn’t allowed to tell her how I truly felt due to my employment status, so I was settling for being possessive of her time just this once. Realistically, Signe could still go out with other men after work. Or on the weekends. Or whenever she felt the need to take time off.

I found myself frowning at my meal at the thought, wondering if maybe I could find a way to keep her busy during the evenings as well.

“Are you not feeling it today?” Signe asked as she nudged my bicep with her elbow.

“What?” I snapped my gaze in her direction, feeling the touch of her elbow on my arm long after she removed it.

“You’re frowning at your food,” Signe raised her dark red eyebrows at me, “If you’re not feeling salad today, I’ll eat yours.” She reached forward to grab my food, and I reacted by grabbing the bowl with both of my hands and dramatically leaning away from her with a look of concern.

“Back off,” I grumbled at her with a teasing smile, “I like to savor my food, unlike some.” I gave a pointed look at the empty bowl in front of her, before setting my bowl down and reaching for my water bottle to take a sip.

“Huh,” Signe shrugged, “If I enjoy it, I swallow.”

I immediately started choking on the water I just drank at her words, taking a fist, and pounding at my chest while Mary cackled at Signe’s innuendo.

You’re still at work.

She’s just messing around.

She would have made the same joke whether I was here or not.

She’s your employee.

“The sad thing is,” Signe giggled with her friend, a blush coating her cheeks, “I didn’t even mean it that way. My brain just thought, ‘Yeah, that’s a normal thing to say to your boss’.”

“I’m not yourboss,” I countered after clearing my throat, desperate for any pitiful excuse to justify my infatuation with her, “But don’t let other employees hear you make jokes like that.”

Mary suddenly, loudly, cleared her throat and nodded her chin towards the breakroom door, and Signe and I both looked over our shoulders to see Jacqueline walking into the room holding a takeout container in her hands.

“Be cool!” Signe hissed before gently kicking my leg underneath the table. I grinned at her before taking another drink from my water bottle, and I focused on Signe’s gaze which had dropped to my throat to watch me drink. Her eyes glazed over just the slightest bit, in a way that made me wonder if she liked what she was seeing.

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