Page 95 of Mr. Flirt

I slipped a receipt into one of the colorful folders my assistant set up for me and shook my head. Maybe I could learn a new system.

I used to think if it wasn’t broken, don’t fix it. But the definition of broken was a little subjective, and obviously, growth was good.

I closed my laptop and glanced out the window. A thick blanket of grey clouds hovered over a quilt of varying shades while the sky furiously shook droplets upon us.

It wasn’t exactly the perfect weather for a drive to the mountains, but it was a typical Seattle day in February.

All morning, I’d tentatively waited for a message from Lucy to come over, canceling the whole weekend.

By lunch, I felt pretty good about it.

My assistant peeked her head into my office. She had a funny look on her face.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “Absolutely. Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

Tara lit up. “My hubby is treating me to a weekend of nothing but books, candles, baths, and comfort food.”

“Nice. I could take some lessons from him.”

She beamed and nodded. “He’s a great guy.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Okay, then. I’ll just get back at it. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

She spun around, and I scowled, wondering why she thought I wasn’t okay. Had I been talking to myself? I scratched my head and let out a sigh just as the clock struck two.

I grabbed my jacket and walked over to Tara.

“I think I’m going to head out early.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I totally get it. You need to decompress and figure things out.”

“Thanks.” I scratched my head, unsure of what she meant. Did I seem that confused today?

I certainly felt conflicted, but I thought I did a better job of hiding what was truly running through my mind this morning while sitting in on a developer meeting.

As I made my way to the elevator, a text came over.

Oh, no. This was it.

The big cancellation from Lucy.

I slid on my phone, stepped on the elevator to the parking garage, and looked down at the screen.

I’m counting the minutes. I can’t wait to see you. I worked doubly hard so I wouldn’t have many distractions this weekend. Can’t wait.

All of my worries washed away as I reread her text and replied with a heart. But then I thought maybe that wasn’t enough. So, I sat in the car and typed a quick message.

Is it bad that I can’t get enough of you?

She wrote back quickly.

Not bad. Amazing.

I couldn’t wipe the ridiculous grin off my face. I needed to see Lucy again. I wanted to hear about her day, what she worked on, how many clients she saw, and what cases gave her the most grief. I wanted it all from her.

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