Page 5 of Things I Overshared
I will not, and he does not.
Skye: Oh boy. Susan, you better add this to your prayer list.
You think she needs to pray for me?
Skye: No, she needs to pray for Emerson!
Susan: [Prayer emoji]
Sally: LOL 100% Poor guy won’t know what hit him.
Sadie: [Prayer emoji] [Prayer emoji] [Prayer emoji]
I hate all of you.
________________
“This issoamazing!” Nicole gushes before taking a sip of her margarita and leaning back in her high stool. We’re at our favorite cocktail spot near the office, and it’s packed. The lights are low, the space is small, everyone is young and flirty, and we fit right in.
“Right? The only thing standing between me and the most fun month of my life isMr. Clark.” I spit his name.
“But you said you had a plan?”
“Yes. Become his friend”—Nicole makes a concerned face at me—“with help from mybestfriend.” I smile wildly.
“I’m not his assistant, Sam, I just help Margaret sometimes. If you want insider info, you’ll have to cozy up to her.”
“One does not ‘cozy up’ to Marge In Charge. She’s almost as frosty as her boss.”
Nicole chuckles. “They are quite the pair.”
“The first step is obvious.” Nicole asks me what I mean with her eyebrows. “Socials. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
I pull up my phone, and a pang of anxiety—or maybe grief, and maybe shame?—pangsof many feelingsstrike me. I open Instagram first and type in his name.
“Not on Instagram, it looks like.” I show her the search results.
“Well, not a huge shocker.” She cocks her head to one side.
“Right.” I pull up Facebook. “Private profile. Not going to request him now after four years. So. That leaves us with the one he’s sure to be on: LinkedIn.” I make sure I’m signed out and search for his name. “Yep, there he— What? Dang! Icy has accepted overfive hundredconnections!”
“I’m not too surprised.”
“I-I’m in legitimate shock.” I move on to actually read his profile. “Still, not much to work with. After OU, he went home to England for his master’s degree, worked there for a few years, then came to New York and started with us. Wow, almost ten years ago.”
“I can work with his headshot, that’s for sure,” she mumbles out of the side of her mouth. I laugh too loudly, not expecting her comment.
“Same.” I sigh. “Looks like he’s peering through the camera into my soul. And no smile—why is it so hot that he’s not smiling?”
“I don’t know, but it is.” She sucks on her cocktail straw without looking away from the screen.
“Too bad his personality is that of a frozen porta potty.”
She smacks my arm. “Ouch! If you keep that up, I’m going to start calling you Skye. He’s just quiet and professional, probably shy and misunderstood.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll try to ease up.” I zoom in on his headshot and talk to my phone screen. “Prepare to be understood,
Mr. CFO.”
