Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Monday is a time for catch-up. The weekend has brought many voice mails, e-mails, and letters to trudge through before I start contacting my call list of potential clients.
Rachel pops her head up a few minutes after my arrival. “Good morning,” she singsongs.
“Well, well, well, do tell,” I say. Since I’m in the middle of typing an email, I haven’t seen her, but the silence between us causes me to turn and look upward. She’s impatiently waiting for my full attention. I fold my hands over each other and relax back into my chair, giving her the audience she needs to tell her story. “Go ahead. I know you’re dying to.”
A delirious, happy smile crosses her face, and she starts her tale. “You remember Charlie from the other night? Well, of course you do, since his name is Charlie, like you.”
I don’t think I want to hear this. A small ache forms in my chest at the mere mention of him.
She shakes her hands in the air and closes her eyes as if she just remembered I was there. “Anyway, we stayed there for another drink and then went for an early breakfast, or is it a late-night meal? I don’t know, but it was around one in the morning.” She tends to drag stories out that could be summarized into one or two sentences, but I don’t want to burst her bubble. I’m fascinated by how her mind works, and she’s always fun to listen to, even if it’s about guys I wish I could have gotten to know better. “We just had the best time. He’s cute, funny, and so sweet. Wasn’t he cute?” I nod, and she continues talking without even noticing me. “He paid for the drinks and the meal. I love a gentleman.”
“And?” I insert my appropriately interested question to move it along. I do have a lot of work to do today, especially with the pending funeral on Wednesday.
“And what?”
I don’t want to ask, but I’m a glutton for punishment, so I do. “Did you . . .?” I leave it at that, hoping she gets it. She doesn’t seem to be following my line of questioning, which is a first for her when it comes to gossip or sex talk.
The light bulb finally goes off. “Oh! Oh, no. They have to wait until the third date.”
“The third? I thought it was the second?”
“Oh my, no! That was so one month ago. I tried the fourth date after that, but I lost their interest, and they would all move on. So I deducted through my research that the third date is the magic number. Four’s too long, and two dates is too soon to be a serious contender for marriage.”
I smile at her logic and can appreciate the effort involved to get to this point. “Great! That sounds like a good plan.”
I like her persistence, even though her assumption that all men think the same is a little off base. She hasn’t factored that into her calculations. I’m also relieved they didn’t sleep together Friday night, though I feel guilty for thinking it.
“Yeah, I think so, too. So as I was saying, I had a great night. Thanks for going.”
“Do you think you’ll see him again?”
“Think? I know! I secured the second date for tonight.” She leans forward on the top of the dividing wall.
“Wow. That’s fast. He must not be from the city.”
“He’s not. He’s from Kansas.” She laughs as she sits back down on her side of the cubicle, absent from my view.
“Seriously? Kansas? I wouldn’t have guessed that at all.”
“I know. Don’t you just love it?” I can tell she’s smiling.
I glance back at my monitor as an instant message pops up. I laugh because it’s from Rachel: I think I’m in love!
I type back: SLOW DOWN! I think you’re in lust. Please remember to take one date at a time.
Rachel: Don’t worry, Mom, I’m keeping that in mind.
Her sarcasm is not appreciated. Me: Topic change. Will you sub for me on Weds? I have a funeral to attend.
Rachel: Is it his?
Me: Yes.
Rachel: You want me to assist at the O’Malley/ Hurst auction?
Me: Yes.
Rachel: Of course, I’ll do it.
Me: Thank you. I owe you one.
Rachel: In that case, can you cover for me tonight so I can go out with Charlie? It’s a small auction downstairs, handling a few phone bids.
I sigh, knowing how boring that auction will be, but I’ll do it for her.
Me: Yes, no problem.
Rachel: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Charlie, you’re the best!
Me: You too, Rach.
I spend the rest of the day familiarizing myself with the important items going on the block. I return five calls and twenty-eight emails, then finish the paperwork requested by our department head.
Coffee fills my stomach instead of food for dinner, and the caffeine keeps my energy level higher than usual. This auction is straightforward from the beginning, and it ends as expected.