Page 103 of Phishing for Love
And I amnotpanicking.
It’s been almost a week since the staff meeting and the tension between Aaron and me has ratcheted up from a heatedawareness to a kind of simmering suspense. We’re not boiling over, not yet, but we’re hovering on the brink. I can feel it and so can he. I have no clue what’s going to push us over. The anticipation is killing me, but I’m grateful we’re not rushing into anything. This, whateverthisis between us, doesn’t feel light and easy. My heart isn’t built for a reckless, forgettable fling, and I can’t afford to be careless with my heart.
I see Aaron at work every day so I shouldn’t be nervous seeing him after hours, but he’s coming tomy house. The last time he was here I was still reeling from Nathan. Now, he’ll be in my home, alone with me, after our innuendo-filled week.
Who do I blame for this? Calvin’s bulldog charity run and a meddling, opportunistic friend.
On Tuesday, Calvin tasked me with handing out flyers this weekend to promote his bulldog charity run. He specifically chose me for this task because he hasn’t fully forgiven me for my less-than-charitable reply to his email. Assigning me to write pregnancy and parenting cards wasn’t enough of a punishment, it seems, so my weekend will be taken up with pounding the streets and distributing flyers to coffee houses, libraries, retail shops, and community centers.
I did draw the line, however, at wearing a bulldog costume while handing out flyers. Even Dana backed me on this.
Calvin put Sofia in charge of the flyers. They were supposed to be ready yesterday, but there were printing delays. Sofia promised to drop the flyers off at my house this evening. Instead, she texted me:
Sofia:Can’t drop the flyers off. Matt has plans for me.
Tess:No details please. I’ll collect them from the office tomorrow.
Sofia:I arranged for Aaron to drop them off.
Tess:At my place?
Sofia:Yes.
Tess:When?
Sofia:You probably have half an hour before he arrives.
Tess:WHAT?!
Sofia:I told him you were expecting him.
Tess:I am going to kill you. Slowly.
Sofia:He volunteered.
Tess:After you asked him, I bet!
Sofia:Semantics.
Tess:Stop playing matchmaker!
I manage to tidy most of the house before the doorbell rings. Aaron stands on my porch wearing the suit he wore today, minus the jacket. I’m still in the forest-green jumpsuit I wore to work.
I step aside to let him in. “Thanks for dropping these off,” I say, gesturing to the box of flyers he’s carrying.
“No problem. Where do you want them?”
“Dining room table’s fine.”
After he’s placed the box on the table, I nervously smooth my hands over my thighs and move to the kitchen. Playing casual and collected has never felt so difficult. “Uh, would you like a drink? Coffee? Water?” We’re not doing alcohol. Not tonight.
“Water sounds good.”
I pour him water from the jug in the fridge.
“Thanks.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, he takes a sip and eyes me over the rim of his glass. “By the way, I like your hair curly like that.”
I touch my hair self-consciously. “I prefer it straight, but it’s a lot of effort.”
