Awkward Meet Normal

Chapter Two

Annabelle:

It was the following Monday morning when things went a little sideways.

The regular coffee gal was not at Coffee All Day. My go-to fill-up spot. Darren was filling in for Heather.

And since it was my first time meeting Darren, I spilled my coffee all over his hand and, unfortunately, my blouse when I grabbed it. My shirt was stained, and none of my office mates had a shirt I could borrow.

Where was my Joan from Mad Men? I needed a fairy office God Mother. But no luck.

I had a meeting at Ten AM, and there was a giant stain on my shirt.

"It's you." My newest client said when I stood to shake his hand in Conference Room A. "The woman from the wedding." He continued.

I nodded and smiled. My brain fell behind from where I knew him from.

It was the bartender, the one who had given me a free beer.

"And it is you. The guy from the wedding."

He smiled, that killer smile and my knees went a little weak. "You dashed without finishing your drink."

I nodded again; my brain was short-circuiting.

And then I remembered this was work, and I could crush work.

"I did indeed." That may have come out sounding a little Irish. I cleared my throat, hoping he didn't notice. "So you are here for a consultation?" Steering the conversation back toward work.

"Yes. For my business."

"You own a bar?" I asked. Of course, he owned a bar I had been reading up on the folder I was given. He owned multiple bars and clubs downtown. It was impressive. "I mean, of course, you do."

He had a small empire that he owned. Why was he bartending at a wedding on Saturday?

I raised my iPad off the desk; this held his information along with my presentation. "Please take a seat."

He sat beside me instead of across from me, his knee accidentally brushing mine.

I jumped up faster than I intended.

"I'll stand." I did what my friend Amanda called my power move; my hands on my hips, which only made me remember the stain on my shirt.

"I spilled my coffee this morning," I explained nervously. "Ok, let me get started."

I started the screen share too early on my IPad, and a picture of me in my sports bra flexing appeared. I posted it to my Insta story this morning after working out. It had the hashtag MondayWin across it.

I froze for a brief second before pushing the x button.

Dash Brennan, I only knew his name due to the information he filled out, cleared his throat.

"Take a deep breath."

My hands were shaking. "This always happens," I said to him.

It happened in my daily life, but never during a work presentation. Never this bad. At work, I was calm and collected; I knew what I was doing.

Out in the Real World, that was when I was this frazzled mess of a human.

Shit.

He smirks at me, his face turning up toward me. "You always show pictures of yourself in a bra before your presentation? And here I thought I was special."

"No, that is a first, actually. I Anna this. Or what my family calls Annaing things up. My name is a verb. I screw things up and make it awkward. I ruined a wedding this weekend... I'm Annabelle, by the way," I had yet to introduce myself properly even.