Page 21 of Do You Take This Man

I smiled, remembering the older woman’s relieved and troubled expression when things were settled with her nephew. She’d reminded me of my grandma. My stomach growled again, and I flipped open the box. “Great timing, Mrs. Johnson,” I said to my empty office. Inside were two cheese Danish, and a note was scrawled in loopy handwriting on the inside of the lid:For RJ. Still not a meal. —Lear. P.S. Don’t spill coffee on these.

I stared at the handwriting, and the oddest sensation came over me as my lips tipped up in a smile. “Jackass,” I said under my breath, inhaling the scent of one of my favorite foods second to waffles. I took a bite, letting my eyes fall closed for a moment. My frustration from working late, from embarrassing myself in front of him, even from him being a jerk, faded, and I reached for my phone.

RJ:Thank you for the Danish delivery. Your note was so touching.

Lear:You’re welcome.

Lear:I genuinely wanted to remind you to not pour coffee on them.

I sat back in my chair, because I should have ended the conversation there.

RJ:Noted.

RJ:To clarify, can I pour it on you?

Lear:I’m not the lawyer here, but I think that’s assault.

RJ:I could make a case for mitigating circumstances.

Lear:What would those circumstances be?

That you’d have to take off your shirt, and what jury could fault me for that?I shook my head, because any jury vaguely conscious during the Me Too movement would surely find me at fault. I went with the next best option.

RJ:Self-defense.

Lear:In this imaginary scenario, I’m attacking you?

RJ:Maybe.

Lear:Is this your way of telling me you feel threatened by the idea of my dance moves?

I laughed, taking another bite of the Danish.

RJ:You know, I’m honestly not.

Lear:A little though, huh?

RJ:Not in the slightest.

Lear:Just threatened by my rougeish good looks, I guess.

RJ:Are you wearing rouge? I never would have guessed—you’re an artful blender.

Lear:It’s considered uncouth to make fun of typos.

RJ:All is fair in the wedding game.

Lear:Okay. Hey, have you been practicing?

He sent a GIF of New Kids on the Block performing their signature Right Stuff dance, and I snorted, the sound ricocheting off the walls.

RJ:You’re not as funny as you think you are.

Lear:Yes I am.

RJ:Good night, Lear.

Lear:Good night, RJ.