Missed Connections

Missed Connections: Chapter 19

I glare at the watercooler, hating the stupid stones inside that make up the filter. It's another hippie thing, some weird water system that has three different kinds of rocks or something. I don't understand how rocks can filter water. Ziggy said something about the attunement of the water on a cellular level, and I kind of glazed over. The water tastes okay, but the system looks like fish should be swimming inside, and I have to pour water in to top it up every day.

My stomach's a huge ball of resentment because I'm alone at work. I'd much rather have had the day off, like I thought I'd get, but on Friday evening, Fern told me that Phyllis might have a client on Sunday, so I had to come in at nine.

Phyllis screwed up Saturday for me too, opening her schedule, then acting incompetent so Ziggy and Fern volunteered me to come in to support her emotionally.

Saturday's appointments never showed up—and I suspect they never existed, because Phyllis was the one who added them to the schedule—and she never made it to the office either. By the time I got home, it was two thirty, and I was tired and cranky and just crashed on the couch.

Phyllis is doing this on purpose, but I don't know why. She shouldn't feel threatened by me. We don't work the same job, so there's no way I could be viewed as a replacement.

Today is Monday and I'm alone at the office because Fern and Ziggy decided everyone needed a day off to "ground and center their energies outside the office." Really, I suspect it's because there were only three clients booked in the schedule and they wanted another day off. Everyone but me got one, since they wanted someone here to answer the phones again. They acted like they were doing me a favor when they said I could leave early—at three.

The Internet is down in the building as well, so I can't talk to Blake online, and he wasn't in on Saturday when I came. I wonder where he is. What does he do on his days off?

My battery is nearly dead, but at least my phone has Internet. I don't care that it's too soon. I want to see him.

Want to meet up? I'm at work but leaving early.

Ten minutes later he replies. I don't know. I wanted you to know me better first.

Me: Please? You make me feel better.

Him: I can't say no to you. Where and when?

I name a coffee shop a few blocks from my apartment. Home turf, an hour and a half from now.

Him: I'll be there. But...

Me: What?

Him: Keep an open mind, okay?

Me: If it makes you feel any better, I already know who this is.

Him: You do?

Yes. I knew right away. I'm so sleuthy.

Him: That's both a relief and terrifying. See you in an hour. 

Oh, Blake. What are you so worried about?

I show up a few minutes early and grab something decaffeinated. I'm already vibrating out of my skin. I can't believe I'm doing this. Blake and I have talked for hours and hours, but this still feels like meeting a stranger for the first time. Now that the disguises are gone, will he like me? Everything's different in person. What if he doesn't like me, if he only likes the idea of me?

And what if I don't like him in person when it's more than casual flirting at work? What if, in retrospect, I invented more chemistry than there really was? Then again, if the way he worked the knots out of my neck is any indication of what his hands can do, I think we might be okay. He'll come in, and we'll chat and...what, jump into a relationship? What if he's a bad kisser?