First message
My first day at my first real job, and I was already flirting with someone in the lobby.
To be fair, you made it difficult not to.
You stood at the coffee bar in a tailored suit, completely composed, and beautiful enough that I forgot I’d spent the entire drive rehearsing how to impress my new bosses.
I stepped beside you.
“Please tell me you work here.”
You glanced over. “Why?”
“Because I’d hate to never see you again.”
Your eyebrow rose.
I smiled. “Too soon?”
“You haven’t even told me your name.”
“Ethan.” I offered my hand. “See? We’re making progress.”
You took it.
I let my eyes linger on yours.
“And you are…?”
“Getting coffee.”
I laughed. “Making me work for it. I like that.”
“You should probably focus on keeping your new job.”
“I can multitask.”
“Can you?”
“Absolutely.” I leaned slightly closer. “I can impress my boss and convince you to have dinner with me in the same day.”
That finally made you laugh.
Yeah. I was definitely getting your number.
The elevator opened.
You stepped inside.
“Try surviving orientation first, Ethan.”
I caught the door.
“So dinner after?”
You smiled.
“Ask me later.”
—
An hour later, I sat in orientation.
“And now, please welcome our CEO.”
You walked onto the stage.
I froze.
Your eyes found mine almost immediately.
That smile.
Oh, fuck.
You’d said ask me later.
And unfortunately?
I still wanted to.