“Hmm?”
She smiles, clasping her hands in front of her. “Dr. Noah asked about you.”
My brow furrows. “What about me?”
“Just…how long you’ve been working here, where you’re from,” she answers offhandedly. “If you were single.”
“He asked if I was single?” I ask with skepticism, knowing Betty tends to occasionally stretch the truth.
“No,” she admits. “But I could tell that he wanted to, so I told him you were.”
I roll my eyes. “Betty, let’s leave the bad matchmaking to my mom.”
She ignores my bitter comment and asks, “Why? You don’t think he’s cute?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I haven’t thought of him that way.”
“Well, we have,” she admits. “We’re taking bets on how long it’ll take Natasha to make a move on him.”
“Natasha from radiology?”
She nods eagerly. “You know she has a thing for hot, young doctors.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I turn to walk away. “I’ll see you in the morning, Betty.”
“Bye, Grace!”
CHAPTER TEN
Andrew
I usually keepa pack of Twizzlers in my desk drawer. Something sweet to get me past my mid-afternoon hump. Especially when the post-lunch slump hits hard. But when I slide open my drawer, I’m disappointed to find it’s empty aside from a plastic grocery bag with a crumpled cellophane wrapper and a faded receipt.
The spreadsheets I’ve been staring at since this morning are hazy at this point, hence the need for an afternoon pick-me-up. The numbers and words start to double while nothing seems to compute in my brain besides a list of incongruent data with little sequence. It all starts to look like a weird jigsaw puzzle, and that’s when I realize I need a break. Like a real break, not just a handful of snacks while the shallow imprint on my chair continues to deepen and abrade from my deeply seated ass. The financial models I’ve been working on, calculating expenses and revenue growth, can wait a little longer while I go on a search for some sweets, as long as I don’t get any interruptions from Mr. Sheridan with more servile tasks. Though I’m not completely out of the woods quite yet with another two hours until I’m off work.
I’m about to go raid the snack drawer in the breakroom, hoping it’s stocked with the usual array of cookies and candybars, when a lone cupcake in a plastic container lands in front of my keyboard.
“Happy birthday.”
Olive hovers over me, her elbows perched on the ledge of my cubicle, and she’s looking down at me with an expectant smile. I smell something sweet, like vanilla and buttercream, seep through the cracks of her surprise.
“How’d you know it’s my birthday?”
She shrugs, a modest smile on her face. “Company calendar.”
I take the cupcake in my hands, noticing a small round “happy birthday” adornment atop the frosting and sprinkles. “Thank you.”
“That little happy birthday topper’s also a ring,” she informs me.
Olive walks away, looking over her shoulder with a small departure salute, and I dig in. Just as I’ve peeled back the paper liner of the cupcake, ready to enjoy the red velvet cake smothered in white frosting, my phone rings. It’s Teeny.
“Hello?” I answer, eyeing my cupcake with a forlorn look, my stomach responding with a low rumble.
“Happy birthday!”
A smile wipes away my hunger pang. “Thank you.”
“Any plans?”
