At the bar, and I felt a cold wind as the door opened and in walked The OC. He came, just like I hoped he would. Our first real conversation would ensue.
“You used to be F.’s assistant, right?” Of course you were. And then you were promoted in September of last year and now you’re an assistant editor.
“Yeah… and you work for T&H, right?” Of course I do. You used to work one office away from mine.
A few drinks later. “Get the married lady a drink!” he exclaimed. He was referring to me.
“Married? Why would you think I was married?”
“You used to wear a ring on your left ring finger.”
“You’re right, I did. But I’m not married. Never have been.” I grinned. “But I kind of like that you noticed.” It might’ve been the gin talking, but I didn’t care. He didn’t seem to either. It was the push the conversation needed to slip into uncharted territory.
He had been watching me. I had been watching him. “I walk by your office on purpose multiple times a day,” he admitted. “I’ve had a crush on you since I started working at T&H,” I confessed.
“Are you sure this isn’t a joke?” he asked. “Because I’m just not that cool and you’re gorgeous.”
We split a cab back to our neighborhood (and yes, we share the same zip code) and he kissed me. Today he bumbled and stumbled his way through an invitation to the MOMA on Friday night and it was adorable. It took two and a half years… but as Kelly Kapoor would say, “I have a date!”