Page 9 of Finding Mr. July

R achel has booked us a conference room for our meeting.

I still don’t know if Jonathan will show, so I keep an eye out for him as I pass the design offices.

He’s not at his desk, but when I get to Manny’s office, I spot him through the window.

Jonathan has his back to me, but the way he gestures as if to underscore the point offers a good idea what the topic du jour is.

Manny, on the other hand, looks as calm as a proverbial cucumber.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to determine who has the upper hand in the two seconds it takes me to walk by.

My mentor is already waiting when I enter the room. She’s set out notepads on the table and is pouring herself a glass of water from the cooler by the door.

“It might only be us,” I tell her as I take a seat. “Jonathan doesn’t love the calendar idea. We’ll see what Manny can do.”

“Manny?”

“I may have enlisted him for our cause.” When Rachel still looks confused, I add, “They’re friends—I barely know him. Maybe Jonathan will listen to him.”

“Smart.”

“In the meantime, let’s get started.” I place my palms on the table for a moment to center myself before opening my laptop.

“The deadline is October 28, so according to my timeline, we have until October 7 to make this calendar happen in order to allow three weeks for the sales campaign. Today is September 20, which leaves us less than three weeks. First order of business—where to find guys and dogs for the calendar. Without models, everything else is moot. Also printers. I’m talking to several different ones today. ”

Rachel sits back, looking amused. “Oooh, boss lady. I’m liking this side of you.”

I do, too, judging by this surge of energy traveling up my spine. It feels good to take charge of something again. “Well, this is it, right? This is how I steer my life back on track.”

“Sure is. Are you keeping the temperate rainforests as your cause?”

I tell her that’s my intent. Ashley and Eric are doing the same. It seems like the best option considering that’s the focus of the job we’re vying for.

“Okay, so what have you got?” she asks.

Time to make it rain men. “I’m thinking of asking the barista around the corner. The one with the golden retriever. He’s cute, right? And there must be someone at your gym.”

“My first thought was your brother.”

My momentum sputters to a halt. “What about Jude?”

“Asking him to pose for the calendar. He’s hot, he has a dog…” Rachel’s eyes are wide and innocent.

“Absolutely not. And stop calling him hot.”

“Not to mention he’s single.” A salacious smile spreads across her lips. “I picture him with—”

“Nuh-uh. Time-out.” I T-up my hands to interrupt her before my ears fall off. “No family members. New rule.”

“You’re no fun.” Rachel pouts. “Fine,” she says with a sigh. “I can ask Dennis at the gym. He’s always going on about his Chihuahua.”

“He’s good-looking?”

“Very. And Dennis isn’t too bad either.”

“Haha.”

“What?” She smiles. “It’s obvious you need me here for laughs. Gotta make sure boss lady doesn’t get too serious.”

I toss a pencil her way. “Is that better?”

“Much.” She beams. “Who else?”

“I’m going to stop by the police station after work to see if there’s a K-9 unit willing to pose, I have calls out to three different veterinarians, and then there’s that agility club on Mercer Island.” I hesitate. “I also had this one idea, but it’s kind of out there.”

“Here for it.”

I type in the URL on my laptop and spin it so she can see. “It’s this local dating website I came across—Pawsome Partners. For pet owners. Maybe we can find people there.”

She’s about to respond when the door whooshes open and Jonathan steps inside.

“Not cool,” he says, pointing at me. Then he sits down one chair away, arms crossed, legs stretched long.

“Good to see you, too,” Rachel says. “Having a rough morning?”

“I’ve been informed that my participation in this situation”—he gestures across the table—“isn’t optional. So here I am. Guess we’re making a pinup calendar.” He glances at me. A brief but accusatory This is your fault .

“A classy pinup calendar,” Rachel amends. “For a good cause. Do you even know how few temperate rainforests remain? Do you care?” Her teacher voice has the desired effect, and there’s no response. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“I’m not going to apologize,” I say, forcing Jonathan to look me in the eye.

“This fundraiser will benefit GCL, and I assume, since you’re here, you believe in the company enough to want to keep your job.

” I soften my tone a smidge. “Can’t you look at it as a means to an end?

With your skills, we can make the calendar beautiful.

Those photos you took in the Serengeti blew my mind. ”

There’s a brief widening of his eyes. “You looked me up.”

My cheeks heat. “Maybe.”

“See, I knew that’s what you were after. But I don’t photograph people.”

It’s my turn to cross my arms. “I wasn’t after anything. When I asked you to team up, I didn’t know about your old job, but then what you said in the elevator… I wanted to—”

Rachel leans forward on the other side of the table. “Elevator?” The word ends higher than it started.

“You’re not exactly forthcoming,” I continue. “I was curious. Sue me.”

“I would never, Ms. King County Bar Association Award winner. See I also know how to use a search engine. That professional headshot was mwah .” He kisses his fingertips.

Unfortunately, I know exactly what picture he’s referring to.

I have no idea what I was thinking at the time—probably that a bronze tie-neck blouse would make my colleagues and clients take me more seriously as a new attorney.

Instead, I look like I’m playing dress-up in an eighties Glamour Shots costume closet.

All that’s missing is blue eyeshadow and Aqua Net hair.

I was stuck with that headshot for five long years, and it certainly didn’t ease my uphill battle with being taken seriously as a woman in corporate law.

An ick-triggered shudder runs through me as a cavalcade of the disrespectful nicknames I’ve been called by those who were supposed to be my professional peers echoes in my mind. I scramble for recourse and cling to the first thing that pops into my head. “Tell me—what happened on that plane?”

To my satisfaction, the smirk on his face disappears.

“What plane?” Rachel’s gaze ping-pongs between us.

Jonathan scoffs and stands. “You know what, I change my mind again. Enough of this shit.”

His tone finally snaps me back to my senses. What am I doing? He was here ready to work, and now I’ve driven him to leave.

“I’m sorry,” I say in a rush. “I withdraw the question. I mean, that was unnecessary. Please don’t go.”

“I’m so confused,” Rachel mutters.

Jonathan hesitates. He looks toward the door and then back at me. Tilts his face to the ceiling. A world-weary sigh escapes him as he sits back down. “Fine. Whatever.”

Rachel and I exchange a look of relief. Close call.

“Let’s get this over with so I can go back to my actual job. What exactly are we doing here?”

Rachel must sense that I need a moment because she hurries to summarize our timeline and our first objective. “We were about to get Holly on a dating site when you were kind enough to join us.”

His attention flicks to me. “A dating site? Why?”

I catch him up to where Rachel and I left off. “It might be a good way to meet local guys with dogs.”

“But dating?” Jonathan frowns. “I guess I didn’t… Are you, like, looking?”

“For?” I squint at him.

“You know. A guy.”

“Oh.” I sit back. “No. No, no. Definitely not. Nope. Last thing I need.”

“That’s a whole lot of nos right there,” Rachel says to the table.

I award her an icy glare. “It’s purely for the calendar. If they fit what we’re looking for, I’ll tell them about the project when we meet and, you know, let them down easy.”

“Why not just reach out and ask them online?”

“Yeah because ‘Hey, stranger, can I interest you in this modeling opportunity?’ sounds totally legit and not like a scam at all.”

“Point taken.”

Rachel cracks her knuckles. “Let’s do it, then. One dating profile for Holly, coming up. Believe me, I know all the best tricks.”

“Is that why you’re still single?” I ask her.

“Yikes.” Jonathan winces, but that rare smile of his flashes at the same time.

I return the favor, and finally the tension eases in the room.

“Oh, I see,” Rachel says. “This is how it’s going to be? He’s rubbing off on you.”

I can tell she’s not really upset, but I play along. “I’m sorry, low blow.” I reach for her hand over the table. “And no one’s going to be rubbing off anything on anyone.”

Is it my imagination or is there an almost inaudible “shame” coming from my left? I glance at Jonathan, but he gives nothing away.

“I forgive you.” Rachel squeezes my hand before refocusing on the keyboard. “Are we doing this or what?”

Over the next ten minutes, we answer an uncalled-for number of questions about me and what I’m looking for.

“Interests?” Rachel asks after we’ve tackled favorite city? favorite food? favorite music?

“Um, I don’t know. Reading?”

“No, like, what do you do for fun?” Rachel waits, hands perched above the keys.

“You know that’s what I do. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Rachel and Jonathan look at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Since it’s not a real dating profile, maybe make something up?” Jonathan suggests.

“Wouldn’t that be lying?”

“You’re already bending the truth by not looking for a date, aren’t you?”

“True.” I consider possible extracurriculars, but nothing solidifies.

“What did you do in high school? College?” Jonathan asks. “There must have been something other than books and work.”

The unexpected rush of spraying snow hitting my face comes at me from deep in my memory. It brings a smile to my lips. “I was a great alpine skier. Ranked in high school.” I haven’t thought about this in so long that it feels like someone else’s past. “And Jude and I both did archery.”