“Get it together, Izzy,” I said to myself. “You’ve still got to make sure everyone can find everything.”
And then I put my phone in my pocket and looked up. A man in a 49ers hat and sunglasses was approaching a Tesla. A man that looked very familiar…
He had his back turned to me, and with his Tesla straight ahead, there was no chance he would just suddenly stop and come back to me. But something about Nick Ferrari made it impossible not to watch him, even when all you’d get was a glimpse of his back and his car.
And, let’s be honest, he had on jeans tight enough that his ass looked great in them.
But, as far as I was concerned, I might as well have been looking at 3D porn because there was no way that Nick Ferrari and I could ever be anything in real life other than a business connection of the smallest degree.
“Hey, there you are.”
“Jesus!”
I was starting to think I was getting a little too jumpy for my own good.
“You OK?” Rachel said as she approached me. “You looked like you were zoning out there for a second.”
“I…yeah, stressful day,” I said.
Rachel was like Jordan when it came to knowing about me. She knew that I had some sort of an ugly situation with my child’s father. She knew that it wasn’t a subject I wanted to talk about. But she didn’t know how violent it had become and how much it affected me on a day-to-day basis, and I didn’t feel the need to fill her in.
“Well, I’ll tell you what: there are worse things to zone out with than the sight of that man,” she said, whistling as Nick got into his Tesla. “Some boys have it all, I swear. Looks, charm, brains, confidence…”
“He’s just a client; remember that, Rachel.”
“Me?” she said before bursting into laughter. “Oh, trust me, Izzy, I was around him all morning, and he’s a very nice guy, but he made it easy for me by never expressing any interest.”
Good.
I mean…why would I be thinking about that?
“Maybe you can email him and set up a date,” she said suggestively. “You weren’t around him as much. Maybe you’re something of a mystery to him.”
“Please,” I said, even though the tone of the word was different in my head than out loud. “That would be so unprofessional.”
“I mean, yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t imagine,” she said. “Just think of what a power couple that would be. Izzy Saunders and Nick Ferrari. You two would be the most public non-Hollywood couple ever!”
That would be the worst thing ever. Malcolm wouldn’t even have to try to stalk me if that happened.
“There are more important things in life than that,” I said, even though I had to admit there was some appeal behind the idea if not for the whole clingy ex thing. “In any case, let’s go and get the rest of this event taken care of, shall we?”
“Oh, quite, Miss Saunders.”
Oh, Rachel. You are too polite for your own good.
And I might just be too hard-working for my own good.
* * *
Six hours later, I felt like I had worked for sixty hours straight.
But with an empty student union, cleared tables, and open space once more, we had finished our job. My OCD nature could finally drift into a relaxed state. I could breathe as I had outside without having to force the issue.
I walked back to my car in something of a zombie-like state. It wasn’t even that I could understand I was tired; it was like my mind, upon trying to boot up “thoughts,” simply drew a blank. It knew how to act, and it knew what to do next, but it couldn’t process those actions in terms of conceptualized thoughts. I turned on my car, punched in the directions for the office, and drove back in the most blank-slate way possible.
The traffic was beginning to show early signs of rush hour, though the worst had not yet hit. The sun was shining through, so much so that I had to put on sunglasses. Rachel sat to my right, but she had the advantage of not having to drive; as a result, she fell asleep for a quick nap en route to the office. I would have envied her, but I didn’t have the energy to summon that envy.
When we pulled up to the office, I had to shake Rachel awake.
“Just go in, give an update to Jordan, and tell her you’ll be working from home the rest of the day,” I said. “She’ll get it. She won’t expect you to work again today.”
“Mmm,” Rachel said, barely stirring up.
She looked like a teenager who had been woken at six a.m. on a Saturday, groggily moving out of the car and into the office. I stayed behind just a few minutes to see if I had any urgent emails that needed checking.
I did not, but there was one that caught me by surprise—a notification that I’d had a drop-off to my office a few hours ago. Such notifications were automatic, so in one sense, it wasn’t cause for alarm, but I always knew when to expect packages and what they would be. Either I was more tired than I had thought, or this one had truly slipped by me without me realizing it.
Nevertheless, I just figured I’d forgotten that I’d had something for Ryan shipped to my office or maybe something small, like office supplies, sent my way, and so I deleted the email and headed inside. I got up to the floor of my office when I saw Jordan and Rachel talking…and Rachel suddenly looked a lot more awake than before.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you know—”
