i deserve an assistant.

Preston won one of those happy hours where the more people who come the cheaper the drinks will be on Wednesday evening. By 6:30, I was already drunk. Carly, Kendra and John were there along with some of Preston’s coworkers and clients. We hadn’t gotten enough people to get the drinks quite as cheap as I wanted so I needed more people to show up.

I was brainstorming people to invite when I got the bright idea of inviting Brady to happy hour! I quickly typed an iMessage letting him know where happy hour was and how long we planned on being there. I reread it a few times to make sure I spelled everything correctly and used enough puncuation (six exclamation points seemed adequate) and hit send. I waited a moment for his response and when it didn’t come, I tucked my phone in my purse and partied the rest of the night away.

He actually never texted me back.

On Thursday, I texted BJ on my way to work letting him know that I was hungover and needed something to cure it. He was waiting outside my office with a bacon and egg breakfast bagel and a parfait when I got there. I don’t know how he knew, but it was exactly what I needed.

“Jeez, you even look hungover,” he said, following me into my office.

“Fuck you,” I said. I snatched my breakfast from him and set up the feast on my desk.

“Kidding. You look hot as usual.”

I was too busy chewing a bite of the delicious, but carbatious sandwich to respond.

“What exciting things do you have planned for me today?” BJ asked, in a naughty sounding tone.

I finished chewing. “I have 3,500 new emails. I need you to immediately delete any that don’t concern me.”

“Ah, I get access to your email? I hope I uncover something good. Like your nudes.”

“That won’t happen,” I assured him.

“Damn. Maybe one day though.”

He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes. I got up so he could sit at my computer and I sat in a side chair checking Instagram and Facebook. While he worked on my emails it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard from Martin or Rob. I knew they were as busy as me, but I definitely thought I would’ve heard something (besides an invite for drinks) by now.

Once he finished with the emails, we walked down to the breakroom to raid the vending machine. It just so happens that Amanda and an ad teamer named Aron were already there, drinking mugs of coffee. I almost squealed with excitement. I love awkward situations when they don’t involve me.

“Maybe we should come back later,” BJ said, in a low voice.

“Nope. I really want a Gatorade,” I said. I didn’t, but I did want to see both of them squirm.

“Hey Amanda. Hey Aron,” I said.

They both said hey and Aron started asking me questions about the campaign they’re working on. I chatted with him for a moment while BJ leaned against the counter engrossed in his phone. Then I crossed the room to the vending machine and Amanda let out a shrill laugh.

“Aron! You’re so funny!” she exclaimed way too loudly.

He said something else and she screamed again. She put a hand on his chest and continued laughing obnoxiously.

God. Could she be any more desperate?

I got my Gatorade and walked back over to them. “What are you guys laughing about?”

Amanda looked taken aback, but quickly recovered and smiled. “Aron said something funny.”

“Oh.”

Amanda poured the rest of her coffee out and practically ran out of there which made me feel kind of bad because obviously I scared her away. But not really.

Later that afternoon I had a meeting with the publisher of a local magazine who wanted to do a feature on our company. I decided to bring BJ along to take notes. It was nice to have a personal assistant and I’m going to ask Diana about hiring one for me full time. I think I deserve it.

Afterward, we stopped and got froyo which probably isn’t allowed, but whatever. I won’t tell if he won’t. BJ made fun of me for only getting almonds and blueberries on mine, but putting chocolate and gummy bears on it would just be irresponsible.

We ate our froyo on the way back to the office and BJ said, “Try this.”

I scoffed. “No. You have cereal and candy and shit in there. I’m an adult.”

He smirked. “It’s so good.”

BJ stopped on the sidewalk and backed me into a brick building. He scooped up a spoonful of his melting and dripping froyo and shoved it into my mouth. It annoyed me that it tasted so good. I wiped my chin where some of the froyo had dripped and took a few seconds to chew the Lucky Charms and gummy bears.

“It was okay,” I said.

BJ licked his lips and stared down at me for way too long without saying anything. He glanced down at my lips and lingered there for a moment then looked back up. I thought he was going to kiss me so I said, “Let’s go!” and walked a foot ahead of him all the way back to the office.

i can’t believe i’m thinking like this.

BJ must have felt bad about the way things ended on Wednesday because on Monday morning he brought my usual chai, a vanilla bean frappuncino and a strawberry cheese danish from Dunkin Donuts. He has no idea that I’m boycotting Dunkin Donuts (personal reasons) and couldn’t even eat the danish but it’s the thought that counts.

I spent the majority of the day following up on emails and making phone calls and then in the afternoon, the advertising team presented a campaign to me in the conference room. I was really impressed that BJ led the presentation like a seasoned professional and even threw out some buzzwords. Maybe he was learning something from his internship after all. Once they finished, I made them write down the few pointers I had then they started to file out.

“I missed you this weekend,” BJ said, joining me at the end of the conference room table.

I scoffed. “Shut up. No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. Four whole days without my favorite boss lady. It was miserable,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and gathered my things.

BJ stepped closer and put a hand on the table in front of me so I was kind of pinned in.

“Brandon, if you do not step away from me right now…” I warned.

“If I don’t step away from you, what? What are you going to do, Reese?” he challenged.

“I’m going to kick your ass. Now move.” I tried to push past him, but the kid is a lot stronger than he looks. I rammed into his arm and he didn’t even budge.

BJ began laughing which only pissed me off further. I tried to duck under his arm but he lowered it. An epic battle of me trying to get free and BJ refusing to let me ensued. It was completely childish and unnecessary. Then he put his other hand on the other side of me so that I was completely pinned in with my back against the table. I could feel his hips on my tummy.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Reese?” he taunted. He was so close that I could smell the dark chocolate he’d eaten during lunch on his breath.

I was super irritated but oddly turned on. His body pressed against mine felt way better than it should’ve.

“BJ,” I said as evenly as I could. “I have a lot to do. Will you please let me go?”

“What do I get out of it?” he asked.

“You won’t get reported to HR,” I smiled.

He bit his lip as if thinking about it then finally released me. Before I could get far, he ruffled my hair all over my head. I flicked him off before walking out the door.

Whitney was standing outside the conference room when I walked out. She gave me a weird look, but I just smiled and walked past her.

When I got back to my office I started thinking about the pros and cons of hooking up with BJ. I could definitely lose my job if I did, but that was only if anyone found out. BJ and I could enjoy a night of fun and keep it between the two of us. But the best part of flirting with BJ is knowing that both of us want to fuck each other (him more than me obviously) but not being able to act on it. If we did, it would ruin that whole relationship completely.

I can’t even believe I’m thinking like this.

i thought i was going to die.

I spent all day Saturday preparing for the 5k. I woke up and ran two miles on the treadmill in my apartment’s fitness center then collapsed on my bed and napped for three hours. When I woke up, I decided to take a jog along the lake like I had seen so many people do. Then I got distracted and started taking pictures for Instagram instead. I needed all of my followers to know that I was running at the lake after all. I went home and stretched/watched tv until Preston came over with a pizza and a bottle of wine.

I woke up on Sunday morning at 8:00 with a text from Brady saying that he would see me at 9:00 at the park for the race.

I replied, “Can’t wait! :-)”

Then I climbed out of bed and discovered that my entire body was sore – especially my legs. I couldn’t figure out why I would possibly be sore until I realized that I had run the day before. How was I supposed to run an entire 5k when my body was aching from the little bit of running I did do? I got up and popped four ibuprofen, washed them down with Red Bull then got ready.

I decided on a pair of black yoga shorts, a gray half-zip, and the pair of Nike Frees I got last year when I went through my weeklong (day and a half) workout phase. Kendra and John dropped me off at the park on their way to church and there were hundreds of people waiting to run. For a moment I panicked, not knowing how Brady and I were going to find each other but after a short walk around the crowd, he appeared.

“Hey,” he said, looking me up and down. “You look cute.”

I beamed. “Thanks. So do you.”

Brady somehow made his shorts and t-shirt look totally sexy. He had sunglasses on and two days of beard growth. I wanted to skip the race and just go back to his immaculate bedroom.

“Have you warmed up or stretched?” he asked.

“Um, no. I just got here,” I answered.

“You might want to. Just for joint and muscle mobility. But if you don’t normally warmup before running then don’t worry about it,” he explained.

I wanted to tell him that I don’t normally run but instead bent over at the waist to stretch. I did what stretches I could remember from high school for about two minutes then told Brady I was finished. We had to go get our numbered race bibs then decide if we wanted to go with the first, second or third heat.

“I usually go with the fastest group but we can with a slower one if you want,” he said.

I gave him a playful punch in the bicep. “Hey! Who says I’m slow?”

Brady smiled. “Not saying you’re slow, but I figure it might be nice to take it easy today.”

We agreed to go with the middle group and waited at the start line with the other runners. That’s when I started to get nervous. I told myself if I could run two miles on the treadmill, I could do it again plus one more mile.

I started off fine. We were at a good pace and even talking and laughing a little bit. Then once we got to the mile and half mark, my side began cramping up. It was so much different than running on a treadmill. There were rocks and potholes to avoid and hills. Once we got to the two mile mark I thought I was going to die. Brady kept talking and all I could do was grunt back because I was so out of breath. I could feel sweat accumulating on my forehead and dripping down my temples. Because I knew I might sweat a little bit, I only wore Laura Mercier tinted moisturizer, concealer and mascara but I knew all of that was long gone.

Finally after twenty five minutes of pure hell, the finish line came into view. I was so fucking happy. We crossed the finish line and even though I wanted to collapse to the ground, I didn’t because Brady didn’t.

“Great job, Reese. I’m surprised you kept up,” he said.

“What’s…that…supposed…to mean?” I gasped. I put my hands on my hips and tried to catch my breath.

“Carly was over last night and told me you’re not very athletic,” he explained.

Bitch.

“She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

We went and grabbed complimentary bottles of water then Brady asked where I parked. I told him that I actually don’t have a car and he asked if I wanted a ride home. I obviously said yes.

He let us into his car and he asked for my address to put into his GPS.

“You know, I worked up quite an appetite during that run,” Brady said.

I didn’t realize it, but I did too. I hadn’t eaten beforehand and I really wanted a bacon cheeseburger with chili cheese fries. And a shot of tequila.

“Me too,” I agreed.

“There’s a really good breakfast spot by my place. Do you want to go?”

“Looking like this? I look disgusting,” I said.

Brady smiled at me. “You look good.”

I knew that this was a lie and I looked like a melted Barbie but I appreciated his effort so I told him fine.

The place was on a relatively busy corner, but surprisingly not busy for a Sunday morning. We secured a table on the outdoor patio and opened the menus. I really wanted to order two short stacks of pancakes and sixteen slices of bacon, but ordered an egg white omelette and a Bloody Mary instead.

“You don’t mess around, do you?” Brady asked after I placed my order.

“I deserve this,” I told him.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom so I could try to fix the disaster that I knew my face was. But surprisingly, I didn’t look bad. My cheeks were ruddy, but not in a bad way. It looked like I was glowing. I blotted my face with a paper towel, retwisted my topknot and met Brady back at our table.

I was happy to see that my Bloody Mary had arrived. I took a long gulp. Between this and the fact that I didn’t look like a carcas, I felt good.

“So what did you, Carly and Chris do last night?” I asked.

“The two of them ordered a pizza and I hung around like a scrounger until they offered me a slice,” he said.

I giggled (me, giggling? Who had I become?).

“They went into Chris’s room after that and I thought it might be a bit intrusive if I joined them in there,” he went on.

Ew. Why would he want to go into Chris’s bedroom with them? They were obviously hooking up. I sat there judging him for a moment until he peeked up from his glass of water and half-smiled at me. Oh! So he was kidding. He did it with such a straight face and even voice that I couldn’t even tell. He did have a sense of humor after all.

We continued talking while we ate and then for a while after. He told me about how he had gone on a medical mission trip to Guatemala which made me feel super uncultured because the only time I travel abroad is to party.

Brady insisted on treating me to breakfast since I had done so well (which turned out to be good because I left my wallet at home) then drove me to my apartment. He promised to let me know when the next race is.

july 4.

I needed an outfit that said conservative pharmacist’s wife, but also fun-loving twenty four year old so I decided on a pair of white J. Crew shorts, an Alice + Olivia tank and a statement necklace. Carly came to pick me up at 4:30 on Friday and Preston was already in the car. She told me that I looked adorable and that today was the perfect day to redeem myself with Brady. I informed her that I didn’t care about Brady and I was just going for the food and booze.

She smirked at me through the rearview mirror. “Oh please. If that was the case you would’ve just worn jeans and a topknot. I know you, Reesie.”

She was totally right and I couldn’t even deny it.

When we got to their place, Chris greeted us with hugs and cans of beer. He was obviously already completely drunk.

“So glad you guys made it! Everyone’s out back,” he told us. We followed him into the dining room and out to the attached back patio. I immediately noticed Brady standing at the grill with his back to us. He was wearing shorts and I could see that he has amazing calves. How can one person be so perfect?

Chris took us around and introduced us as his “friend” Carly and “her friends” Reese and Preston. I met a girl who works for a company that designs high end knobs, hinges, and drawer pulls so we talked for a while. I didn’t know in what way, but I thought she might come in handy one day so we exchanged business cards.

Afterwards, I found Carly, Chris and Preston huddled in a corner. We stood there talking for a while until Carly and I finished our beers. I offered to go get us more, but really I just wanted to “accidentally” run into Brady who I hadn’t seen since we first got there. I grabbed two beers and headed back and was happy to see that Brady had joined our group while I was gone.

“Hey,” I said, appearing next to him. I handed Carly her beer.

“Hey. I didn’t even know you were here,” he said.

I smiled. “Yep. I’m here.”

“Enjoying yourself?”

“I am. You guys are great hosts,” I said.

“Well, thank you. You’re welcome here anytime.”

I didn’t know if that was an actual invitation or if he was just being nice, but either way my tummy did a flip. His tattoo was peeking out of his shirt again and I pointed at it, deliberately touching him when it wasn’t necessary.

“What’s this?”

He pushed his sleeve back revealing a huge intricate eagle with it’s wings spread and what looked like a date under it. But it wasn’t a regular eagle – it was kind of cartoonish and colorful. It was quirky. To me it showed that he doesn’t take himself too seriously and I liked that. I could only see half it and the rest snaked onto his shoulder. “In honor of my grandfather. He served twenty three years in the United States Navy. He passed away recently.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said genuinely.

“No need to be sorry. He lived a fulfilling life. He left a legacy. He wouldn’t want anyone to be sorry.”

I nodded.

“What about you? Are your grandparents around?” he asked.

I am fortunate because all four of my grandparents are still alive. I’ve definitely taken this for granted and I feel awful that I haven’t seen them in almost a year especially after hearing about Brady’s grandfather.

“They are actually all still around.”

“Do they live in the city?”

I shook my head. “All of my family lives in Texas. That’s where I grew up.”

“What brought you to Chicago?”

“I love this city. This is where I want to be.”

“I love it here as well. I’m toying with the idea of moving back east though. That’s where home is for me.”

My heart sank. How are we going to get married if he moves hundreds of miles away?

A girl across the patio shouted to Chris that all the beer was gone. This was a problem considering it was not even 6:00 PM.

“I’ll go get more booze,” Chris announced, pulled his keys out of his pocket and dropped them on the ground.

“You’re not in any position to drive anywhere. I will go,” Brady said.

Chris shrugged and shoved his keys back in his pocket.

Brady turned to me. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Yeah, go with him, Reese. Get some stuff we will like!” Carly enthused.

“Okay,” I said.

Carly winked at me before we walked off. Brady led us around the complex and into a garage. He unlocked a dark Audi sedan for us to get into. It looked nice and new, but not too flashy. It was sexy and kind of edgy, but conservative and understated like him.

He drove us to a small liquor store on a corner and grabbed a shopping cart.

“I’m going to grab the beer if you want to go pick out what you guys want,” he said.

I didn’t know what Carly wanted and I knew tequila was probably not a good idea so I finally just grabbed a bottle of moscato and met him at the cash register. I pulled out my credit card to pay for our wine, but Brady insisted on paying.

“A good host wouldn’t let you pay for your own wine,” he smiled.

I melted.

Everyone cheered when we arrived back with the booze. I immediately poured Carly, Preston and me wine into red party cups and joined them at the patio table.

“The pharmacist is gorgeous, Reese,” Preston said. “And I think he likes you.”

“Do you really think so?” I squealed.

“Well, he didn’t invite any of us on his beer run, did he?” Preston asked, matter-of-factly.

We spent the next two hours sipping wine and people watching. Finally it got dark and a fireworks show began off in the distance. People began trickling out including Preston, whose billionaire boyfriend came to pick him up. Eventually it dwindled down to just Carly, Chris, Brady and me and two of their friends who helped Brady clean up.

Carly and Chris started making out at the table and then got up.

“Reesie Cup, we will be right back,” Carly said.

“Um okay. I’ll guess I’ll just stay out here by myself,” I said.

“We won’t be long. Hang out with Brady!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I’m sure he won’t mind,” Chris said.

I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired and the alcohol was wearing off so I was just ready to go home. I sat out there for a moment then decided to go inside to find a phone charger. Brady was coming out as I was going in and we nearly collided into each other.

“Hi,” I said. “Do you have an iPhone 5 charger?”

“I do.” He gestured for me to follow him and he led me down the hall to his plain, but very clean bedroom. My apartment may be a disaster most of the time but it’s important for my guy to be clean (gotta balance us out) so he won points with me here.

“It’s right here.” Brady showed me the white cord dangling out of an outlet under the window.

“Thank you!” I said and walked past him to the window. I plugged my phone in while Brady stood in front of his dresser. It occurred to me that he brought me all the way to his bedroom when could have just grabbed the charger and brought it out to me.

We started talking about Carly and Chris and how she had been hanging out at their place the past few days. I told him that I was very excited that they were hitting it off since I was the one who kind of introduced them. He said that Chris recently got out of a serious relationship so he’s glad Chris is dating again.

“I’m guessing you’re single,” I said. I knew this not only from Facebook, but a guy in a relationship wasn’t going to accept a lapdance from a drunk girl like he did last weekend.

“I am. You are as well?”

I nodded.

“You’re beautiful and smart. I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you,” Brady said.

I was so excited/flattered/turned on that I thought I would vomit. The fact that he called me beautiful and not hot or sexy cemented my adoration for him. I wanted to shout that he could be that lucky guy, but I just smiled instead.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the weekend?” he asked me.

I knew this was his chance to ask me out so I had to be available, but not too available. “I have a few things I may do, but nothing set in stone. What about you?”

“I’m actually running a 5k Sunday morning. I try to complete one every month or so.”

“That sounds fun. I want to run a 5k one day,” I lied.

“There’s still time to enroll. Do you want to come?”

Anyone who knows me that I’m not an athletic person. Working out for me includes doing 100-500 squats, as many crunches as I can (usually 25) and girl-on-top sex. I hate sweating in general. But the fact that Brady thought I could complete a 5k was pretty flattering.

“Okay, sure,” I said before I could stop myself. It couldn’t be that hard right? How far is a 5k anyway?

Brady told me where the race was then suggested we exchange numbers so we could stay in contact beforehand. We talked for a while longer until Carly came and found me and told me she was ready to go.

I turned to say goodbye to Brady and he patted my shoulder platonically. “See you Sunday.”

Carly wanted to know what that was all about on the way to my apartment.

“We’re running a 5k together on Sunday,” I explained.

Carly burst into laughter. “Reese, you’re running a 5k?”

“What’s funny about that?” I asked, offended.

“Well, you don’t run is all. Do you even know how far a 5k is?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Like three miles! When’s the last time you even ran a mile? Or even half a mile?”

I considered this. It probably isn’t a good sign that I couldn’t even remember. Probably in college sometime? I don’t think I’ve ever run three miles straight. But I’m sure with the adrenaline of being with Brady will help a lot.

Now I must prepare.

in your dreams, blow job.

I probably checked Brady’s Facebook sixty times between Monday and Wednesday to see if there were any changes, but either he didn’t log on or his privacy settings prevented me from seeing them. Stupid Facebook.

On Wednesday, Dave decided to let the entire office out at 3:00 PM so we could start enjoying the holiday early. It was super generous of him. As everyone started clearing out, I stayed in my office wrapping things up. The guy, Rob, from Monday sent me an email saying that he enjoyed meeting me and to contact him if I was ever in New York City so we could grab drinks. Then he left his personal cell phone number. It was kind of unprofessional, but I want this deal to work out so I replied that I would do so.

I began shutting down my computer and packing up my things when BJ walked in.

“Ready for the long weekend, boss lady?” he asked, leaning on the edge of my desk.

“Of course. I love any holiday that gives me an excuse to get shitfaced,” I replied.

BJ smirked. “Me too. What are you doing? Come out to the bars with me and my friends.”

This was the third time in the past two weeks he had asked me to hang out with him outside of work and each time I told him absolutely not. The kid is persistent.

“In your dreams, Blow Job,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, really. That’s my dream,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

“You. Blow job,” he said in a low voice.

Suddenly it felt like the room got 100 degrees hotter.

“And that’s exactly where that will stay – in your dreams,” I said.

“I know, but that is within my rights as an American.”

I rolled my eyes and began toward the door.

“What?” BJ called after me. “I can’t help that you’re hot.”

I was almost out of the office when I turned and ran right into him. He was following me out too closely. We were chest to chest (or face to chest rather) and I had accidentally touched him in places I shouldn’t have in the scuffle. I quickly jumped away.

“What the fuck? Can I have some space?” I snapped.

BJ stared down at me – eyes blazing. “You can have whatever you want.”

I felt like I could hear my heart beating loudly in my ears. I hated that this little twenty one year old brat could have an affect on me.

“Bye, Brandon,” I said, gesturing toward the open door.

He didn’t take his eyes off me as he sidled out, way closer to me than necessary.

I wasn’t even to the L stop when I got a text from him: “Have an awesome weekend, Reese.” Just seeing his name on my screen did something to my body. Ugh.

I met Kendra and John for martinis and couldn’t wait to tell them about my fiancé.

“He sounds legit,” John said after I recapped Friday night. “That pharmacy school is very competitive. Awesome that he got in.”

“Isn’t it? He’s really smart,” I said.

“When are you guys hanging out again?” Kendra asked.

I failed to mention that Brady and I hadn’t exchanged numbers or made any plans of seeing each other again. I shrugged and took a sip of my martini. “Soon.”

“I’m really happy for Carly though. She deserves a good guy like Chris,” Kendra said.

I was a little annoyed that she changed the subject from me so abruptly, but I took that moment to check and make sure Brady hadn’t updated his Facebook. He hadn’t. But Carly sent me a text message that said, “Fourth of July BBQ at Chris and Brady’s. :-)”

I was already mentally picking out my outfit.

need to make him fall in love with me.

I had a lunch meeting with some bigwigs from a flash sale website on Monday and we were going to discuss selling some of our previous lines on their website. It would be an amazing collaboration because not only would we be able to get rid of all the stuff that was just collecting dust but we would also gain a ton of publicity and new customers. They flew in from New York City just to meet me so I knew the meeting had to go well and I had to show them a good time.

I met the Vice President of sales, Martin, the senior marketing manager, Rob, and their executive assistant, Lena, at a steakery two blocks from the office. It was a little bit intimidating and I thought about taking someone along with me, but I wanted to do this on my own.

“So Reese, tell me more about your company. Tell me things I may not know,” Martin said, after we’d make our introductions, got seated and ordered a bottle of wine. He was a heavyset older gentleman who was already drenched in sweat.

I swallowed, set my wine glass down and gathered my thoughts.

“Our products are sold in over one hundred and seventy different retailers in twelve countries and we collaborate with artists and designers all over the world. Our latest is with a batiker from Indonesia who I discovered on Pinterest. We make it a point to only source materials from socially and environmentally responsible manufacturers, which is something our consumers love. Last quarter, our net sales were up twenty eight percent,” I said.

“If you guys are doing so well then why do you have a bunch of extra product to sell on our website?” Martin challenged.

I smiled sweetly. “We don’t have a logistics team. We put all of our effort into product development so yes, we’re definitely lacking in that area.”

“So basically, you have a warehouse full of unsold product and you need to get rid of it,” Martin countered.

I took another sip of wine. “That too. But mainly I just wanted to increase our online presence. Our websales aren’t where we would like them to be so I want us to explore other virtual avenues. Your company is so reputable that I thought it would be a fantastic place to start.”

“I like you,” Martin said, grinning. “You’re honest.”

I smiled.

“Let me ask you this,” Rob said, leaning close to me from across the table. He was a thirty something DILF type who looked like he used a ton of high end hair products. “If we come to an agreement and go forward with this, how do you see our professional relationship continuing?”

“I would love to work out something long term. Maybe quarterly. I know that our products are going to do very well with your client base.”

Two hours later, Martin and I were playfully arguing over who was going to pay the $650 bill. I thought my company should cover it since they’d traveled all the way from NYC but Martin insisted on paying it. Finally, we decided to split it. The meeting had gone really, really well and since their flight didn’t take off for another three hours, they decided to stop by the office and meet Dave and Diana. Nothing was official yet but Martin said that he would love to sit down and look at some numbers and see if we couldn’t get a deal figured out.

After they left, Diana called me into her office.

“Reese, how did you pull this one off?” she asked.

I shrugged. “A friend from college works in their sales department and put me in contact with Rob, who then put me in contact with Martin,” I explained.

Diana nodded. “They seemed to love you. And if this works out, it could be really good for us. It would be a great partnership to have.”

I beamed. “It will definitely work out.”

After I left Diana’s office, I ran into BJ in the hallway.

“Where have you been all day? I missed you,” he said.

“I had an important lunch meeting,” I told him as I walked into my office.

He followed me in. “So that’s why those people were here. The girl was hot. She had a nice ass.”

I shot him a dirty look.

“Almost as nice as yours,” he added with a smirk.

I ignored him, but silently celebrated the fact that the squat challenge was obviously working.

On my way home from work, I logged onto Facebook Mobile and saw that Carly and Chris had become friends. I immediately clicked on Chris’s profile. Brady doesn’t seem like the type of guy who uses Facebook, but it was worth a look. I clicked through a few of Chris’s profile pictures and found a group photo with Brady, who was looking just as ravishing as I remember. And alas, Brady was actually tagged. I couldn’t believe my luck. Not only could I go through his entire Facebook page, but I also had a full name for Google research purposes.

First I went through all sixteen of his profile pictures. They were mostly group shots, but there was also one of him at what appeared to be his white coat ceremony and one of him with a German shepherd. So he’s social and into animals. Precious. I found out that he graduated from high school in 2006 and pharmacy school in 2012 so if my calculations are correct that means he’s only two years older than me. His relationship status said single and there were no random girls commenting on his photos (except a girl named Angelina who said “Looking good buddy!”). So it looks like I don’t have any competition.

When I got home, I opened up his profile on my laptop so I could stalk on a larger platform. I mostly just went through his profile pictures over and over because they were the only ones I could see with his privacy settings.

Next, I Googled his name and found his LinkedIn profile and numerous newspaper articles from sports in high school and his PharmD. graduation announcements. I also read about his parents who are like a power couple in Massachusetts. There was an article about a dinner party they had on a yacht in the Hamptons which is seriously P. Diddy level cool. The conclusion I’ve come to is that Brady and I are getting married, I just need to make him fall in love with me.

we’re getting married.

On Friday afternoon, Carly texted me asking me what I was doing that evening. When I told her I had no plans she said, “Good because you’re hanging out with me and Chris.”

“No I’m not,” I responded. I didn’t have any plans but I wasn’t going to be bored enough to be someone’s third wheel.

“Yes you are. You’re the one who even got me in this situation. It’s going to be awkward so you have to tag along.”

Ugh. I totally planned going home, taking a four hour bubble bath and watching reruns of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. I agreed, but told her that if I started to feel like the third wheel I was bailing. We were supposed to meet Chris at his Lincoln Park duplex at 8:30ish so Carly came over after work so we could get ready/drink wine.

“We’ve been texting a lot, but this will be our first time hanging out,” Carly explained. “And not only that, but he’s expressed no romantic interest in me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“All we ever talk about is drinking and work. He’s never called me pretty or asked me out on a date. Even tonight he just said, ‘do you want to come over and drink?’ His roommate might even be there.”

“Carly, you know you’re gorgeous. You don’t need Chris to tell you that. And you can’t be afraid to make the first move. If you want him, show him,” I said.

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re so good with guys.”

This was actually laughable.

When we arrived at Chris’ I was already buzzed from the wine. Chris let us in to his place and I was really quite impressed with how clean and fresh it was for two straight guys. My first thought was that Chris was actually gay and that explained the chic apartment and lack of romantic interest. And then I thought maybe he was married and he actually shared the duplex with his wife. I couldn’t wait to get Carly alone and discuss my theories.

“I didn’t know you were coming, Reese, but I’m glad to have you,” Chris said as he led us through the living room to the open concept kitchen and dining room.

“Thanks for allowing me to crash your date!” I said, glancing at Carly.

We walked through the kitchen and into the dining area. The most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on was sitting at the large oak table.

“This is my roommate, Brady,” Chris said as we entered the carpeted dining area.

Brady looked up from his laptop at us. He had close cropped hair, blue eyes and the most perfect nose I’ve ever seen on a human. He was a little more clean cut than I usually go for, but he was so incredibly hot. He stood up and Carly stuck her hand in his face – a little too eagerly.

“I’m Carly!”

They shook hands and he turned to me expectantly.

“Reese,” I said, shaking his hand. I suddenly hated myself for only wearing mascara, jeans and an Elsa braid.

“Nice to meet you,” Brady said just to me and not Carly. “What are you guys getting into tonight?”

“I was thinking we would just go downstairs and drink and maybe watch some baseball. Wanna join?” Chris said.

Brady glanced down at his laptop. “I have some work to complete, but maybe later.”

I wondered what his work consisted of. He had on a pastel colored oxford, slacks and argyle socks. He looked deliciously business casual. Maybe he worked in finance or law.

Chris led us down a flight of stairs to the basement and on our way down I texted Carly, “I love him.”

She replied, “Reallyyyyy??? He is really cute!!!”

“We’re getting married,” I said back.

The basement had a full kitchen in the corner – with an impressive fully stocked bar. Chris told us to help ourselves and we each grabbed a bottle of Bud Light out of the refrigerator and then sat on the leather sectional watching the Sox game.

We spent the next hour talking. Chris happens to be a Chicago native so we talked about how our childhoods differed and college. Luckily Chris is just waiting tables on the side and is finishing up his masters. He’s such a good catch for Carly and I’m proud that this was my idea.

Just when I was wondering when my new boyfriend was going to join us, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Brady appeared behind the sofa with a beer in his hand. He had changed into a fitted white t-shirt and what looked like an elaborate bicep tattoo was peeking out of his sleeve. So maybe he wasn’t as clean cut as I thought. “Sox winning?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve got this one,” Chris answered.

Brady took a swig of his beer and glanced down at me. It was then that I realized I was grinning and battling my eyelashes at him. He smiled back.

“Let’s play beer pong!” Carly suddenly exclaimed.

We all looked at her. Really, Carly? Are we back in college?

“Okay. I’m down,” Chris said.

Apparently beer pong was frequently played in this household because Chris immediately pulled a long rectangle table out of a closet and Brady started filling red cups up.

“Should we play guys against girls?” Brady asked after the table was all set up.

“Nooo, that wouldn’t be fair. Me and Chris against you two,” Carly said wagging her fingers at us.

“Fine with me,” Chris said pulling Carly close by her waist.

Brady joined me on the other side of the table and gave my body the once over. “Are you any good?”

I don’t know about you, but I’m really good at beer pong. I think it’s because I lived next to a frat house in college, but people are always surprised at how good I am.

“Of course,” I purred.

Brady and I won the first two games then apparently all the beer gave Carly and Chris a boost because they won the third. Brady and I high-fived and talked about the strategy of the game a lot. I could tell he is really smart because he used words like “saturated” and “inertia.” It was super cute. If he wasn’t sexy, confident and completely perfect, he would be a nerd.

After the third game, we decided that we were going to walk down to the bars. While Brady and Chris cleaned up the table and cups, Carly and I went back to their bar for more drinks. Carly grabbed another beer, but I found a bottle of tequila with my name on it. I began filling a cup up, but Carly grabbed my arm.

“Reese!” she exclaimed, giving me a wide eyed look.

“What?!”

“If you’re actually interested in Brady then you better slow down. Don’t let Drunk Reese out yet.”

She was absolutely right so I only filled the cup a quarter way up and filled the rest with orange juice.

When we got down to the bar, Carly and Chris immediately started dancing leaving Brady and me at the bar. Which was fine with me because I wasn’t drunk enough to start dancing yet.

Brady and I had no choice, but sit at the bar and talk. I learned that he’s a clinical pharmacist at a hospital here and I was instantly impressed. He’s originally from Massachusetts and went to private school K-12 and Yale for undergrad. Apparently his father is a huge and important politician in Massachusetts and his mother is the CEO of a hospital, a job I didn’t even know existed (how does one even qualify for that?). I can’t lie, I was kind of intimidated. His life is so in control. ASU and my measly 3.7 cumulative GPA were dull in comparison.

My dad at least has a cool enough job to talk about. He’s not the next Mitt Romney or anything, but he gets by. I wasn’t about to tell Brady that my mom runs a cupcake shop part time but mostly spends her days shopping, laying out by the pool and rearranging our house despite being a licensed therapist though. He did say that my job sounded “stimulating” and that it must be nice to have a “creative outlet” that was “financially rewarding.”

Before we knew it, we had finished an entire pitcher of beer.

“Shall we order shots?” Almost-Drunk Reese asked.

Brady raised an eyebrow. “Shall we?”

I nodded and flagged down the bartender. I ordered two modest lemon drop shots for us and instantly began bouncing in my barstool after finishing mine. I was totally drunk enough to dance.

I stood up and grabbed Brady’s hand and tried to drag him onto the dance floor, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t dance,” he smiled and pulled me closer to him – so that I was directly in front of him and our legs were touching.

“Not even with me?”

He looked as if he was considering this when that “Fancy” song by Iggy Whoever came on. Sober Reese finds this song obnoxious, but Drunk Reese immediately started dancing – giving Brady some sort of pseudo lapdance/personal rap concert. So fucking embarrassing.

But while I danced in front of him, he kept a super light hold of my hand and watched me closely. For some reason it was really intimate and sexy. When the song was over, I put my hands on his thighs and leaned down close to his face.

“Sure you don’t want to dance with me?”

Brady opened his mouth like he was either going to say something or kiss me and I was desperately hoping for the latter. We stayed like this – breathing into each other’s mouths – for a full minute. I felt his thighs tense up under my hands and without even having to look down, I knew he had a boner. My heart rate quickened as I leaned down even closer so our lips just barely brushed each other. Brady lightly bit my lower lip and my entire body ached because I wanted him so bad.

But suddenly Chris and Carly came bounding back to the bar hand in hand, interrupting our moment. I quickly sat back down in my own barstool.

“Are you guys ready? I have to work early,” Carly yawned.

“Yes, I’m becoming tired as well,” Brady said.

We tabbed out and made the short walk back to their place. Carly had driven us so she and Chris stood in front of her car saying goodbye/making out.

“I’m going to head inside and get some sleep. It was a pleasure talking to you, Reese,” Brady said.

I stood there smiling stupidly. A pleasure talking to me? Wasn’t he going to ask for my number or invite me in so we could have sex? I wasn’t going to, but the invitation would’ve been nice.

“See you later,” I said.

On the ride back to my apartment, I told Carly what happened.

“I’m sure he was just too shy to ask for your number. Chris said he’s not aggressive enough with girls,” Carly said.

I considered this. Brady didn’t seem shy at all, but maybe Chris was right about him not being aggressive. He had plenty of opportunity to kiss me. We got to my apartment and Carly decided to stay the night because it was so late.

God. Now I’m thinking maybe I’m not agressive enough either. I should’ve given him my number, right?

drama in the office – pt. two.

Unfortunately things only got worse for the two former lovers. Whitney must have given Amanda some sort of magical pep talk because on Tuesday she marched right up to BJ’s cubical and plopped a pile of his things onto his desk – including that God awful spray painted t-shirt she had made (I couldn’t tell what it said but I’m sure it was cheesy).

BJ was seemingly surprised and mumbled a thank you. An hour later, Amanda sent Whitney back over to BJ’s cubicle because she changed her mind and actually wanted to keep the custom t-shirt since she paid for it.

Apparently, BJ had already thrown the little creation in the garbage at this point and refused to retrieve it. This resulted in an hour long argument between BJ and Amanda (with Whitney relaying the messages) because the two couldn’t stand to be within 10 feet of each other. It was super entertaining to watch however I couldn’t help being irritated at Whitney for feeding into and enabling this childish drama. I know she was loving feeling like people actually needed her, but our Twitter feed was suffering because of it.

On Wednesday morning, Amanda showed up with a notarized letter from her attorney father stating that BJ needed to reimburse her for the $30 t-shirt or face legal action. What the fuck? Who even does that?

BJ basically told her to piss off and ignored the letter. This only infuriated Amanda even more and she spent the rest of the morning huffing and puffing and glaring at everyone.

I sent BJ to Potbelly’s to get me a salad for lunch and he hung out in my office while I ate.

“She’s driving me crazy. I feel like she’s just doing this to have an excuse to talk to me,” he said.

“Oh, get over yourself,” I teased.

“Seriously. I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in hanging out with her anymore and now she’s freaking out over a t-shirt.”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t even make fun of Amanda because I was apparently crazy too, but in a different way.

I changed the subject and we talked about the work we had left to do for the rest of the day. Then Tracey from HR popped her head in my door.

“Brandon? Can we speak for a moment?” she asked.

He said yes and followed her out. Tracey deals with all employee relations, hiring and firing and I hoped BJ wasn’t going to get fired over this nonsense.

About 15 minutes later he sent me a text: “We’re having a mediation. They’re making us talk our issues out.” I didn’t see BJ again before I left for the day, but I texted him to let me know how things worked out.

Needless to say, I was excited to go to happy hour with Kendra and Preston. With all this drama, I was starting to feel like I was back in high school and I needed to feel like a grown up again.

Kendra brought John along which was kind of annoying but whatever. We ordered drinks and caught up. Preston told us about a new guy he’s seeing – an older, super rich entrepreneur. I think it’ll be good for Preston to date someone older and more established to kind of tame him. Plus maybe having a wealthy boyfriend will allow him to quit one of his jobs.

I told them that Eric and I officially called it quits, but didn’t get into details.

“I can’t believe you broke up with him before getting us free Cubs tickets,” John said.

That was the last thing on my mind when I was dating Eric, but I appreciated John’s enthusiasm.

When I got home, I took a shower and got in bed. I received a text from BJ saying that he didn’t know if he was going to make it into the office the next day because he wasn’t feeling well.

I called bluff and told him he was just trying to avoid the whole Amanda ordeal. He quickly sent back a picture of himself – shirtless and laying in bed. He was making a sad, frowny face, but I was busy having inappropriate thoughts about him being naked in bed.

When I didn’t respond, he said, “Look how miserable I look. You can’t possbily expect me to come in tomorrow.”

“You look fine,” I said back.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He was probably right about that, but I told him I would see him bright and early in the morning. And I couldn’t help going back and looking at his picture way more than I care to admit.

drama in the office – pt. one.

The weekend was pretty uneventful. I did my laundry, tried to lay out (thanks, Chicago, for having shitty weather), cleaned, worked out, read, and organized my nail polish. On Sunday morning, Kendra and I went to brunch then loitered in Nordy’s for a few hours. I didn’t buy anything except a totally necessary Kate Spade iPad case and another bottle of Prada Candy.

On Monday morning, I ran into a college classmate while I was picking up my lunch at a deli on my way to work. I haven’t seen him since we graduated and I had no idea he even moved to Chicago so we stood there catching up for awhile. We are going to try to grab drinks soon. I don’t get to see my friends from college much these days so it will be nice to be able to hang out with him.

When I got to the office, Whitney and Amanda were huddled in the lobby of our building. It appeared that Whitney was consoling Amanda, whose face was partly covered by her hair but clearly red. Interesting.

BJ was waiting with my morning chai when I got to my office.

“Morning,” I greeted him. “I just saw your girlfriend. She seemed upset.”

BJ followed me into my office. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s fucking insane.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“First she got us matching t-shirts made which is weird because we aren’t even in a relationship. And then her parents were in town over the weekend and she wanted me to meet them. When I told her no, she started bawling,” he explained.

Classic behavior of a girl who gets attached after intercourse. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had sex with her if you weren’t interested in a relationship. She probably thinks you led her on,” I said.

“That’s the thing – we didn’t have sex. We went on one date and just fooled around and stuff. I don’t know why she went crazy.”

I actually felt bad for the girl. No one wants to feel rejected like that (been there). And you can’t help it if you’re a clingy psychopath. Poor Amanda.

I got a text message from Whitney a few minutes later. “I’ll explain later, but something happened over the weekend and Amanda and BJ need to be kept far away from each other. We will be blogging from the Internet cafe until 2:00.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Whitney had to pretend to be all in the know about everything.

By lunchtime everyone had heard the story and BJ was enjoying telling it. I sent him and Ryan out of the office to network when Whitney and Amanda were due to arrive back so the confrontation could be avoided. And I was pretty proud of myself for not fueling the fire because I definitely wanted to see that altercation go down.

As I was leaving for the day, I ran into Whitney and we headed to the subway stop together.

“Sorry about earlier. Apparently Amanda and BJ were dating and had a falling out over the weekend,” she explained.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure they were actually ‘dating.’ I think she thought it was more than it was,” I clarified.

“I think she thinks BJ led her on and was a total jerk when she asked where they stood,” Whitney said.

“I think she was coming on too strong and kind of scared BJ away. They’re only here for the summer and he probably wasn’t looking for a relationship,” I said.

“Well BJ should have told her that upfront,” Whitney said curtly.

I realized that we were bickering about two twenty one year old interns and I have much bigger things in life to worry about.

“Maybe. But neither of us really knows what happened so….”

“God, that BJ kid is such a douche,” Whitney went on. “He planned on sleeping with her and then kicking her to the curb. What an asshole.”

“You don’t know that,” I said defensively.

“But I know the type of guy he is. He crosses girls off a list like they’re groceries. He’s disgusting.”

Even though she may have been right, it was not fair for her to make accusations about BJ like that. I’m pretty sure they’ve never even had a conversation.

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to call him disgusting when you don’t even know him. Don’t make hasty generalizations because you’ve dealt with guys like that,” I said.

Whitney gave me a weird look. “Uh okay, Reese. See you tomorrow.”

She put her headphones in so we didn’t have to speak anymore.

did i just get dumped?

I was supposed to facilitate in presenting the final specs from the Batik Bohemian collection along with the product development team for the Friday staff meeting so I spent the morning preparing. BJ brought my chai and sat in my desk chair watching me rehearse/undressing me with his eyes.

When I finished my second run through, BJ began a slow golf clap.

“I think you’ve got this under control, boss lady,” he said.

“Thanks, Blow Job!” I replied, giving a little bow.

BJ smirked. “You know, I can see the outline of your thong through your skirt.”

I turned back to my presentation board so he wouldn’t see me blushing. Aren’t thongs supposed to prevent panty lines? And I was wearing the most modest J. Crew pencil skirt – of course BJ had to turn it into something sexual. And I hate to admit it, but the comment gave me a feeling in my tummy that was not appropriate for work.

“Do you need any help from me?” he called when I didn’t respond.

“No,” I said, but he got up and starting walking toward me anyway.

“You sure?” he asked, smirking. BJ had on a light blue button down with the sleeves pushed up ever so casually and those fucking amazing slacks. I wanted to rip his clothes off.

“Actually,” I said, walking around him. “Why don’t you sort this stack of papers?

“Of course.” He took the papers from me and pulled up one of the upholstered side chairs to my desk so we were sitting across from each other.

I picked up my phone and saw that I had a text message from Eric. I was really surprised because I never expected to hear from him again.

It said, “Hey Reese. I’ve been doing some thinking and I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore. You’re a ton of fun, but we are in different places in our lives. I have no hard feelings toward you and I wish you the best.”

What the fuck. Did I just get dumped? I totally knew we weren’t going to work out and I was okay with it, but the text confirming it just made me feel rejected. I read it over several times. Different places in our lives? What does that even mean?

“Everything okay?” BJ asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, looking up.

He smiled. “Well, yeah. I can see that.”

It felt nice to have some guy attention so I let him sit in my office for an hour telling me about his life in Georgia. He told me about his older brother who is getting married later this summer. BJ has had a secret crush on the fiancée ever since he saw her in a bikini when he was 16. He also told me about his parents, particularly his father who let BJ start drinking beer when he was 12. This sounded like bad parenting but he assured me that it was just a southern thing.

At 11:30, Amanda poked her head in my office.

“Hey Beej, ready for lunch?” she asked.

BJ gave me a wide eyed, frustrated look before saying, “Yeah, give me a minute.”

Amanda gave me a satisfied, if not, smug look. “Hey Reese.”

Lol okay. Whitney obviously rubbed off on her. I smiled as I took in my “competition.” Amanda is a Lily Pulitzer-and-pearl wearing sorority girl from New England. On paper, I’m sure she and BJ are perfect, but I can tell he’s too wild for her. She is adorable – with huge blue doe eyes, perfectly parted blonde hair and the most innocent round face – in a juvenile sort of way.

“Hi there,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you downstairs,” she said and was gone.

“She’s so clingy,” he rolled his eyes.

I smiled and waved him off. “Have fun!”

The meeting went swimmingly and afterward Dave took Diana, Tracey from HR, and me out for drinks. I just love drinking on someone else’s tab.

That evening, Preston came over and we ordered Chinese. We gossiped, watched tv, and vegged out on my couch. So successful Friday night, I’d say.