Scent (Scomiche)

Apparently, They Need A Loan

I haven't gone to Scott's Scones for about two weeks, but it really hasn't solved anything, because it just makes me want him more. The thoughts circling my head in that time have been something like: What if I just kiss him? I wonder if he'd like it. If he'd kiss back. I don't trust myself to go back there quite yet.

But is he worrying about me? I bet he is. God, that's hot.

I need to be stopped.

Being a personal banker is usually kind of boring. I input numbers and talk to people about money. As I mentioned earlier, I really dislike talking to people, so this is not the ideal job, but basically every job requires communication so... here I am. Lucky, lucky me.

I sigh. Is it time to go home yet? I check the time on my computer. 2:39. Not yet. I haven't had a client in hours, do they really need me here?

"Mitch," Natalie, one of my business associates, says. "You have a couple coming in soon to talk about a loan. I referred them to you, since you don't look too busy."

I grumble quietly, but flash her a fake smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"They'll be here at three. Their names are Scott and Christian Hoying."

My fingers stop typing. "What did you just say?"

"Their names are Scott and Christian Hoying. They've never done any loans before, so they don't know how they work exactly. I thought you were the person for that."

I glare and begin to roll up the sleeves of my dull red dress shirt. "Yeah," I breathe. "Okay."

Natalie walks away, high heels clicking as soon as she reaches the tile. I get up and shut the door of my tiny office to freak out in private. I can't see Scott. I haven't mentally prepared for facing him again after ditching him for two weeks. And having to see his husband, oh my God, no thanks. I loosen my tie the slightest bit, pacing. What do I say? What's my excuse? I'm starting to sweat. Awesome.

I make my way back to my chair. Shakily, I straighten the small stack of papers in the corner of my desk and run my fingers along the wood to clear any dust. I'm being ridiculous, he won't notice any of this.

At 2:55, after cleaning up my whole office very quickly, I reopen my door. Again, I check for dust on the rectangle plaque labeled Mitchell Grassi, then I sit in my swivelly chair and pretend to be busy for when they walk in.

I hear a shallow gasp, and my eyes dart to the time. 3:00 on the dot. He's just perfect at everything, isn't he? "Hey stranger!" Scott greets, surprised.

I take a deep breath and turn to him, then stand to be polite. "Hi!" I extend my hand to each of them as I do with every other client, then gesture to the chairs.

"Where have you been?" He asks as we all sit. Those curious, blue eyes will be the death of me, I swear.

My mind races, because in all the time I was cleaning, I hadn't thought of a response to that question yet, even though I knew it'd be coming. "I've just been busy," I lie.

"Oh please, you always have time for cake, Mitch. I know you."

I smile instead of answering. "So, what brings you two in today?"

Christian begins speaking so I meet his eyes instead. Brown, almost rusty looking. Scott would be much happier looking into my deep brown ones. "We thought it was time for Scott to start looking into expanding his business, but we need to know how much that would cost."

I barely comprehend what he said because I'm thinking of Scott staring into my eyes, but I understand enough to answer with, "Sure, we can look into that." I turn to my computer and type in their names to start a file for them.

"I didn't know you worked here," Scott fills the silence. "This is crazy."

I nod, then push back my chair to stand and walk over to the wall on their right to show them a poster of all the loan plans we offer. As I'm pointing to it, I push the door shut for their privacy. "Or you can request an amount of money, then all I have to do is approve it."

"Which shouldn't be a problem, right?" Christian asks.

"Well I'd have to look at your history with our chain of banks, then at your account activity, along with your balances, then we'd set up a pay back system, th--"

He interrupts me with, "No, since you know us, it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

My eyebrows furrow as I look at him, confused. I'm already annoyed with his existence, why is he trying to make it worse? "That doesn't have anything to do with it. I have to make sure you're trustworthy clients first."

Scott seems to be following every word I'm saying. He reaches over and sets his hand on Christian's knee. "Don't worry, baby, we'll be approved."

I walk over to my desk again, softly clearing my throat, and begin to tell them the different things they can do to get approved, and appropriate amounts of money to request for what they want to do. I do this so often, I'm not even listening to myself, I'm just rambling the same thing I tell all my clients and altering the numbers a bit. Christian keeps asking questions and is obviously nervous about not getting this loan. Scott, on the other hand, is completely laid back, and I'm not even sure if he's as committed to this idea as his partner seems to be.

"So, if you'd like to set up another appointment for next week after you two have a chance to discuss what you'd like to do, we can finalize the plan," I end, scribbling down the three options we landed on and sliding it over to them.

"Sounds good, but we'll have to do it when Christian can get a break from work for a little bit."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" I retort to Scott, smiling.

"I left Raven in charge for a little while, she can handle it."

"Sure, leave a sixteen year old in charge, that's a good idea."

"She's seventeen!" Scott laughs.

I've missed his laugh.

Christian says, "Well, we'd better get going," and I could just slap him right here. Him with his stupid luscious hair and tight jeans.

"Wait," Scott says, an angel to my ears. "Mitch, when will I see you again?"

I only shrug.

"You have to come back. My sales are going down!" He chuckles, but I really don't think he's joking.

"Maybe soon."

"Maybe? I miss you coming around. We need to catch up." He thinks for a moment. "How about dinner at our place tomorrow?"

I look from him to Christian, whose eyes have suddenly gotten wide.
"I don't know..." I trail off.

"He doesn't know, Scott, don't pressure him. It's fine, really, Mitch," Christian says.

That irritates me so much, and the fact that Scott's eyes are practically pleading, I have to give in, and just to have the chance to anger Christian. "You know, I guess I could."

Christian crosses his arms and looks ready to kill, but I barely notice because Scott is grinning so wide, it makes me happy just looking at him. He grabs one of the documents on my desk and writes down their address. "See you tomorrow at, say, 5:30?"

I nod, accepting the piece of paper. I'm so excited about Scott asking me over, I don't even care he wrote on one of my final documents that I have to hand in. The only thing that's killing the mood is the fact that his family has to be there.

What a bummer.