Even if that guy was cool with a chick who fell off barstools and spread rumors about her herpes status, I was supposed to be on a man hiatus. After the crazy with my ex, I needed time to reflect. To chill out. To get my shit together and relearn all the good stuff about myself. My ego demanded it!
Muttering “thanks” to the snack table attendee, I slunk off to the correct conference room, keeping my head down as I walked through the door. The tech industry, especially my niche, was filled with men. Many of those men were nerds who didn’t know how to talk to women. Or still thought we had cooties. Those were harmless.
Some of those men, however, thought women should be tucked away in the kitchen with no voice. Those men hated that we were invading their empire, and they tended to lash out in a passive-aggressive sort of way. It was often soul crushing. And while choosing another, more female-friendly niche was the easier way to go…screw them. I’d rise to the top as a means to punching each of them in the balls.
Somehow.
But since it was hard to figure out which was which without dialogue, I usually tried to stick to the shadows until I had my bearings. Of course, it was hard to stick to the shadows when the room was mostly full and everyone was watching me try to find a seat.
Clutching my banana and computer bag, I peeked up from under my fringe of bangs to scout out the situation. Rows one and two were full except for one seat, but that had been left bare on purpose. The man next to it was spilling over with his notes and food and…
Moving on, row after row was taken. Eyes along each row watched me as I worked my way back. Staring. Not helping.
Please don’t make me have to leave because there isn’t enough room…
“Here. Delilah.” My knees went a little gooey as Brad stood up near the back. He gestured me over. “We can make space back here.”
Some women might’ve been torn between the embarrassment of confronting the man they’d acted like a boob in front of and braving the packed room on their own.
I wasn’t one of those women. I made a boob of myself constantly in my personal life. Professional embarrassment was a whole different ballgame. I was willing to accept his save, no problem.
Gratefully, I reached his row and found it in chaos. It had been full. Brad was making room for me.
“Clive, go up to that space in front. Make that guy move,” Brad was saying, motioning Clive out of the seat next to him.
Clive closed down his computer and pulled it into his chest as he stood. A moment later he was threading his way out of the packed quarters. He gave me a nod and a boyish smile as he wandered up to the front. Once there, his bearing changed completely. His shoulders straightened along with his back, and his expression closed down into a stern mask. He pointed at the open seat, almost hostile. Without a word, he then forced his way to it.
“Delilah, c’mon. Here’s a seat.” Brad motioned me in again, still standing. “Plenty of room.”
The guys down the row were still scooting over, as if the queen had arrived and she needed room for all her robes.
With a sheepish smile I scooted behind Brad and let go of my computer as he took it. He placed it on the tabletop and then hastened to pull out my chair for me.
Being a gentleman was the guy’s superpower. I was a little in awe.
“Thanks,” I said with a heated face. I sat down gratefully.
“Nothing to it. It’s a packed house. Did you just come from your presentation, or were you late in getting up?”
My face flushed as I opened the laptop. “Presentation, yes.” I cleared my throat. “Sorry about last night. I should know better than to drink tequila among strangers.”
“I should be thanking you. If it weren’t for you, I would probably have my legs broken.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I ran into Frank after I dropped you off. He made a show of checking his phone. Had you called him, I’m pretty sure he would’ve produced that hammer I was afraid of, and then beaten me with it. Thank God I kept my promise to him.”
A laugh forced its way out. “Kept it to him, huh?”
Brad stared down at his computer. He didn’t answer, but a small smile wrestled with his lips.
Clive was settling in, having made the man move. “Apparently I need to get more aggressive with these guys,” I muttered.
Brad glanced at me before following my gaze. He looked back down, unconcerned. “Probably. When I saw you yesterday, you were a ball breaker. Whether you were ordering a drink or chasing men away, you were in charge of your surroundings. No one could keep their eyes off you. Only the idiots approached, and they all got shot down. In life, you are intimidating. Here, you give off the body language of lesser.”