Page 56 of Phishing for Love
Kenzie:You and Nathan make a sweet couple.
Sofia:No comment.
For the next three weeks, Aaron and I are scrupulously polite and distant with one another. There are no more innuendos. Nomore verbal sparring with dangerous undercurrents. All playful bets have ceased. I’ve stopped bringing him fake plants and other decorative items for his office (even though it kills me to leave it in its depressing state). Our relationship remains in the strictly professional space, which is the way it should be.
When we do speak, our conversations are superficial and perfunctory. We steer clear of any mention of Nathan. And there is certainly no more kissing talk.
I’m almost positive Aaron is trying his best to avoid me. It’s a thought that would make me smile if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m also trying to avoid him. But it’s not as though Amell Greetings is this huge conglomerate. We are bound to cross paths, and we do. In the breakroom. The office hallways. The small, awkward confines of the elevator.
And, one rainy Tuesday morning, outside my cubicle.
On that particular morning I’m pretending to work but, in reality, I’m sneaking peeks at Aaron talking to various people in the vicinity, laughing at a shared joke, answering questions without his usual reserve, arranging to meet for afterwork drinks.
For some reason, watching him interact so easily with my colleagues makes me mad. Of course, there’s no way I want him to see how ticked off I am, so when he approaches my cubicle, I paste a smile on my face.
Aaron studies me, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something’s wrong?”
“Well, what’s with the weird smile? It’s like your face is frozen.”
My smile does feel like it’s morphed from fake to frozen, teetering on the edge of rictus territory. I do what anyone would do in these circumstances, I bluff. “It’s my natural smile.”
His eyes hold mine. Slowly, he says, “Your real smile lights up your whole face. It’s the smile you use when you’re talking to your friends.”
He abruptly stops speaking, looking troubled by whatever direction his thoughts are taking.
My heart begins to pound as an awkward silence steals over us.
Aaron has taken note of my smile. And he likes it.
I tell myself the whole smile incident is a minor glitch and I shove it aside to work on improving my relationship with Nathan. We’ve both been neglecting one another, and I figure it’s time to rectify that. I make an effort to stay awake during the action movies he loves to watch. In turn, Nathan accompanies me on my short hikes in the huge forest bordering Brown Oaks. He knows how important hiking is to me, how I crave fresh air, natural light, and open space after too many hours in my cramped cubicle breathing stale air under the glare of fluorescent lights. So even though hiking is my thing and not his, Nathan slaps on sunscreen, hauls out his dusty backpack, and grudgingly walks the trails with me.
We go out for romantic dinners, and I stay silent when he orders steak and chips. He still games with his friends Wednesday nights, and I enjoy my ladies’ evenings with Sofia and Kenzie.
I’ve also started straightening my hair. No more curls bouncing around, doing their thing, wild and untamed. They need to stay in their lane. The first day I arrive at work with my hair all smooth and straight, Sofia throws me a knowing look. I pointedly ignore her Dr. Phil moment, as well as her follow-up text message containing only a single question mark.
It’s all going smoothly.
Then Aaron sends out another phishing test.
The email is one of those alarming “we’ve detected unusual sign-in activity on your account.” In a moment of busyness and distraction, I absently click the link to review the activity on my Microsoft account, but my heart sinks when I realize the link isn’t legitimate.
Another fail. More mandatory online training.
I let out an irritable groan. Who sends a phishing test on a Monday, the worst day of the week? Mondays are painful enough to get through without a nasty phishing test being thrown in.
My irritation mounts.
From his cubicle, I hear Mark howl in a distraught voice, “I failed!” and Kenzie trying to console him.
I have four days to complete the mandatory online training.
Every day leading up to the deadline, I receive a reminder about the training, but I delete them all. Honestly, I have better things to do with my time.
Also, if I’m brutally honest with myself, it’s become my life purpose to get under Aaron’s skin. I realize I’m playing a dangerous game, but I can’t seem to bring myself to stop.
[MESSAGES]
