Page 68 of One Night Only
After an embarrassingly long time deliberating, I decide on a loose blue dress and flat shoes instead of heels. Earrings but no necklace. Powder instead of foundation because in this weather it will melt into my pores no matter what Claire’s bottle of setting spray says.
What are we going to talk about? I’ve worked with Matthias for two years. That’s two years’ worth of small talk already covered. How am I going to talk to him like we’re on a date and not standing by the water cooler?
I think about canceling twice as I get ready or dragging Claire along and pretending I thought it was a group thing, but eventually I force myself out of my apartment, only panicking once on the way about whether I should have worn heels instead.
He’s waiting outside when I arrive and I linger for a moment, allowing myself to look at him properly for the first time. Staring in the office isn’t really encouraged. He looks great in jeans, sneakers and a red button-down shirt. It makes him look younger, a little less perfect, like he’s in a relatable advertising campaign for young professionals who just moved to the city and again I remind myself that, objectively speaking, he’d be a good choice for me. The most obvious choice probably if you were to sit me down and say, “Sarah, you have to marry someone right now or I will kill this puppy.” Or, “Sarah, out of all the guys you know, who would you trust to take care of your plant while you were on vacation?” “Who would definitely hang up their wet towels and not make a face when you ask him to buy you tampons?” It has to be Matthias, right? He’s that kind of guy. A nice, straightforward guy.
The only problem is that after weeks of zero action in the bedroom coupled with two years of sporadically imagining making out with him, I should be, well, more than primed. But now I’m here and he’s here and I look at him and I feel…nothing.
It’s nerves. That’s all.
Not like I’m broken inside. Not like all men are ruined for me just because—
“Sarah!”
I start guiltily toward him as he catches me staring.
Do I hug him?
He greets me with a raised hand, answering for me and he tells me how nice I look and I compliment his shirt and, oh my God, I’m on a date with Matthias Scott. He holds the door open for me and we enter a large open space with high ceilings and plenty of booths. It’s early enough that we get a seat at the bar though the number of staff hurrying about tells me the place is going to fill up quickly.
I spend a little longer than necessary arranging my skirt on the stool while I try to think of something to say.
Matthias notices my awkwardness. “Alcohol will help,” he says. “And if this goes badly, we don’t have to talk about it ever again.”
I relax slightly. “Sounds perfect,” I say truthfully.
He smiles at me. He has a nice smile, white teeth, one a little crooked. “You know, I didn’t think you’d say yes to this,” he says. “After everything that happened with the Grayson Group.”
I glance away, uncomfortable. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. But I know it’s tough. We were each other’s competition after all.”
We were? I try not to show my surprise at his words. I’d never thought of him like that. Harvey’s big on the whole “team spirit” atmosphere and while, sure, both of us went for the same promotion, I never looked at it like a game. He wasn’t someone I needed to defeat.
Though maybe I should have.
Maybe then I wouldn’t have lost.
“How’s it coming along?” I ask, trying not to look too interested.
“We’re getting there. They’ve decided on a terrace on the fourth floor.”
“They did?” I stare at him in surprise. “That was one of my ideas.”
“Was it?”
“To save space in the café,” I say as Matthias’s phone buzzes. He quickly answers a text. “Did you take a look at my floor plan because if they’ve reneged on the terrace then—”
He shakes his head, frowning slightly. “They’re going in a different direction.”
“Right.” It’s exactly what Harvey told me. And yet…it doesn’t sound that different. “But maybe you could bring me back on,” I say. “If they’re beginning to rethink things.” It happens a lot on projects, especially when dealing with clients not prone to collaboration. They’ll huff and puff but eventually meet you midway. Half the job at the beginning is managing expectations and explaining to people that not only does the thing they want cost money, but it costs a lot more than they think it does. Which, unsurprisingly, does not endear you to them. But I’d thought Grayson and I were on the same page. Which made losing them even more disappointing.
“Maybe.” Matthias nods.
“I actually was rethinking the entrance for the library on the second floor. If we move it up one, we could…” I trail off at the look on his face. “Sorry. Enough work talk.”
He smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to get a drink before we eat?”
