In a frenzy of nerves over tonight’s meetup, I find my way to my kitchen and the coffeepot—rather quickly, even for me. Once my brew is ready, I lean on the counter, sipping from my cup, steam puffing from the top, and I contemplate why I’ve held Adam so close to my chest.
My mind slips back to midday Monday, when I’d made yet another run to the coffee shop, this time for the team on floor three. Loretta, the manager who’d scolded her staff member for labeling my cup “Girl,” had been there that day as well. She’d not only greeted me by name, but she’d complimented my hair. “Don’t you usually wear it tied at your nape?” she’d asked.
I’d been stunned that anyone had ever noticed, or remembered how I wore my hair at all. When my order was called, it was with a shout of “Order for Mia!”
I’d always thought that no matter what I did, I was dismissed, but that isn’t proving to be true, not at all. This leads to the question, Was I ever really invisible at all? Or did I simply choose not to be seen? I don’t know if I would have asked myself that question if not for Adam.
This is exactly why I don’t think keeping Adam a secret is really about Adam at all. I think it’s about this journey of self-discovery I’m traveling that needs to be raw and real and all my own. That said, I can’t keep this up for long. Next weekend is the wedding and awards ceremony. I do wish I could ask Jess for advice about what to wear tonight, but I dismiss this idea. It’s all or nothing with Jess, and today can’t be about her. Today is about me getting ready for Adam.
The buzzer downstairs rings, and I straighten and set my cup down, expecting this is something I’ve ordered from Amazon, as it seems I’m always ordering from Amazon. The addiction is real. For the most part, my packages arrive when the main downstairs entrance is open, and therefore they make it to my apartment level. I open my loft door, surprised to find Jess standing there in a pink sweatsuit, with her hair piled on top of her head.
“I brought muffins from Julie’s Bakery.” She indicates the goodies in her hands.
“Get inside already,” I say, taking one of the two bakery bags from her. “God, I love you, woman.”
She laughs and heads toward the kitchen, where she helps herself to coffee. “I can’t stay long.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “I have to go by the office and chat with my boss about a story I have due next week, but I haven’t seen you. That just feels wrong.” She sips her coffee and claims the barstool at the end of the island. “How are things?”
I refill my cup and join her at the island. “Jack has a knee injury. He’s been out of work for two days. I might run a muffin by him and check on him later.”
“Good Lord, really? How is that even possible? He’s young, not overly athletic from what I can tell, and probably doesn’t even have sex. How did he manage to hurt his knee?”
I snort my coffee and almost choke. “Because knees are always involved in sex?”
She grimaces at me. “What are you even saying right now? Of course, if done right, he should be using his knees.” She waves this off. “Enough about Jack. How are you?”
“The same as always. You?”
“Boring. I can’t even be my own test subject on the dating app. I have no time. You won’t do it. I mean, the project is doomed, but more importantly”—she sips from her cup—“have there been any more notes from your secret admirer?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks with just the idea of lying to Jess. Actually, I can’t lie to her. So I don’t. “One,” I say. “Just one.”
Her brows shoot upward. “And?”
“And I wore my hair down.”
“Wait. What? I don’t understand the connection between your secret admirer sending you another note and the hair, but”—she holds up her hands—“I need to get this straight. You wore your hair down to work? You. Mia Anderson, the Queen Librarian who goes out of her way to look the role.” She presses her hands to her face and drags her hair back farther, as if imitating my normal hairstyle.
I shake my head at her antics. “I never wear it that extreme. But yes, I wore it down. And yes, I know. I’m just wild, aren’t I?”
“So wild,” she teases. “What in the world got into you? And feel free to connect the dots here for me at any point.”
“It all ties back to that one guy on the dating app. I think I told you about him. The one who messaged me and said the girl in the second photo I posted looked like she was afraid of being the girl in the first photo you posted.”
“Right. Right. I remember. He was kind of right on that.” She doesn’t give me time to argue. “Did he write to you again? Wait.” Her brows dip. “Is he your secret admirer?”
“Okay, he insulted me, so I’m not sure how in the world you could surmise he’s a secret admirer. But his comments did stick with me. I felt like he was being a jerk, but you know, he also jump-started my engine a bit.”
“And?”
“I tried something new, and it felt good to wear my hair down. I got compliments.”
She waggles her eyebrows. “You mean you weren’t invisible?”
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You had to say that.”
“You know I had to do it.” She motions to the muffin bag. “Eat one. I know you love them.”
“I can’t eat and talk, and I know you’re in a rush.”
“Right. Yes. Damn my work. Okay, don’t damn my work. I love my job, but I hate I’m rushed.” She downs the rest of her coffee. “Before I go, I talked with your dad yesterday. He called and thanked me again for the referral. It seems like the bidding war is heating up.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I’ve been chatting with him most evenings. He said the attorney is negotiating with everyone involved and has actually pulled an extra bidder into the mix. It seems to be going well. Thank you, Jess.”
“Everyone keeps thanking me. I made a phone call. That’s not a big deal, like, at all. However, I want in on the champagne celebration when it happens. Does your mom know what’s going on now?”
“Considering she’s cornered me into coming over for lunch tomorrow to talk to him about the Lion’s Den offer, I would guess the answer to that question is no.”
“Okay, that’s just uncomfortable. Have you asked your dad why he’s shutting her out?”
“No. And don’t ask me why I haven’t, either. I have no answer. I should have. I’m just not sure I can bear to hear that either of them is having an affair. It’s like, you know, we just don’t want to know our parents have sex with each other, let alone other people.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “True. So true. I give you a pass on this one. No wonder you haven’t asked him directly.”
“I might this weekend. He and I always spend time in his man cave.”
Her cellphone buzzes, and she sets her now-empty cup down and glances at it, reading the message with an ensuing sigh. “My boss. He wants to know when I’m coming by the office.” She slides off the stool and says, “You know, I might take a muffin to Jack and nudge him to be my dating-app guinea pig.”
I push to my feet with the intent of walking her to the door. “You’re going to take a muffin to Jack? You? As in my friend Jess who never has a conversation with Jack unless forced?”
“I’m forced. And I have extra muffins in the car. He can have two, but he has to wait until after my meeting.” She grins and hugs me. “Gotta run, beautiful.” She grabs her purse, and I follow her to the door. “Call me after your family get-together.”
“I will,” I say. “Good luck with Jack.”
She’s already disappearing down the stairs, and I shut the door, leaning on the hard surface and assuring myself that I didn’t lie to Jess. I simply left out a few details, including the part where Jack was already on the dating app. He doesn’t even know I know. I’m not telling Jess. That’s his business, not hers, unless he chooses to make it so. The buzzer rings again, and I glance toward the kitchen, wondering if Jess left something behind. When I find nothing, I open the door to find her nowhere in sight.