Page 42 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“Not exactly.”

“I have them watching another orientation video. It was the only way I could get Beth to stop asking me highly specific questions that I don’t know the answer to. Doyouknow if deforestation or drought has had a bigger impact on the declining population of southeastern five-lined skinks in the region?”

I laugh. “I don’t even know what a southeastern five-lined skink is.”

“Neither do I! I swear she’s making most of this up just to seem smarter than everyone else,” Marlow says in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Do you want to take a break? I could take over for a little bit.”

Marlow’s eyes widen with surprise and hope. “Are you serious? You’d do that?”

“Of course. My workload is pretty light today.”

“That would be amazing. I am so behind on my other work that I figured I would be here until midnight tonight.”

“Well, since I’m freeing up your evening, I’ll do it on one condition.”

“What?” she asks skeptically.

“You come over tonight and catch up onShameless.”

Marlow chews her lips for a second and I immediately feel guilty. I meant it as a joke, not an actual ultimatum.

“I mean, I’ll help you out either way. I just thought…”

“What time?” she interrupts.

“Seven?”

“Okay, text me your address.”

___

The interns are every bit as terrible as Marlow described.

One guy seems to think that it is his birthright to fill every single bit of silence with his inane chatter, while the otherguy seems to have evolved to sleep (and snore) with his eyes open. The girl who was so preoccupied with skink populations or whatever has been too shy to speak since I entered the conference room.

The girl from the break room yesterday has the opposite problem. She has unbuttoned the top button of her uniform and giggles at almost everything I say. Eventually, I start to wonder if she accidentally took a handful of MDMA instead of vitamins this morning.

It’s totally worth it though to get to hang out with Marlow tonight.

She shows up at exactly seven o’clock wearing a pair of black leggings and a loose-fitting white sweater. Thank God for that, at least. I love her little sundresses but sitting beside her on my couch and pretending to ignore her bare shoulders and legs would be torture.

We watch two episodes ofShameless. In between, we eat pasta primavera and argue about my taste in beer. When I can’t convince her to drink the IPA that I have in my fridge, she mixes some vodka with grapefruit juice instead.

There are no heavy topics or deep discussions tonight. It feels strangely easy hanging out with her and I don’t want to ruin it by demanding too much. When the second episode ends, Marlow yawns and fishes the keys out of her purse. I walk her out to her car and wave as she backs out of my driveway.

This becomes our new routine. Twice a week, two episodes a night. We alternate between my house and Marlow’s apartment. At work, we talk about the show as if we’re personally invested in the characters and can’t wait to see what happens next. Don’t get me wrong – it’s a good show, but that’s not why I’m excited to watch more of it. The only thing I’m personally invested in is Marlow. As for what happens next…well, that remains to be seen.

Picking up women in a bar for the night is easy, but it turns out I’m pretty rusty when it comes to trying to date a woman. So rusty, in fact, that I’m a little worried that I might have a permanent spot in Marlow’s friend zone. It’s better than nothing, but not ideal either.

___

“We have to go to happy hour tonight,” Marlow says on Friday afternoon when we run into each other in the hallway. “People are getting suspicious.”

“Suspicious of what?” I laugh.

“Us.”

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