I can’t help it as I laugh out loud and shake my head, turning on the ignition and cranking up the heat before replying to her messages.
Me
Game just ended. On my way to the office now. I can go over the list when I get there. Want me to pick up some lunch on the way in?
After she responds, I take a quick detour to pick up some lunch, per her request, before heading off to the office. Thanks to the busy New York City streets, it takes me over an hour to get to the building. I race inside toward the front desk with two bags of food in hand.
“Good afternoon, Rus,” I greet the receptionist as I set the bag that is in my left hand down on the ledge. “I brought you your favorite.”
“Thank you, Mar, but you didn’t have to do that.” He stands and opens the top of the bag to peer inside. “But I will admit, I’m not complaining.”
I laugh softly and shake my head, readjusting my purse that is on my shoulder. “Of course I had to. I know you never get yourself lunch. Who would take care of you if not for me?”
“I take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.” I arch a brow as I hold out my badge for him to scan so I can get past security and to the elevators. “All right, fine. I’d be a mess without you.”
I chuckle as he buzzes me in, waving over my shoulder as I push past the large glass doors and make my way to the elevator. A minute passes before the elevator finally arrives, and I hastily climb on, pressing the button for the eighteenth floor. I tap my foot as the elevator takes me up, growing impatient and disliking the choice of music echoing through the small chamber.
The familiar ding sounds before the doors open, and I don’t hesitate as I rush off and take a left to head towards the office at the end of the hall. Kirstin Davis Matchmaking Services covers the entire north side of the building on the eighteenth floor; four graphic designers for her website and marketing materials, two journalists who work on giving pieces to the newspapers and magazines as well as writing for the site and newsletters, four large meetings rooms for clients and partners, one office for the three accountants who rotate shifts, and me.
I push the door open and walk in, scanning the small offices to discover that it is just Kirstin and me today. Walking straight to her large office in the back right corner, the only room made entirely of glass walls, I make my way in without knocking as she types away at her computer that is resting on her all white desk.
“How’s it coming?” Setting the bag of food down on the only small sliver of surface area left, I pull out the container with her salad and set it on top of her notepad. I take off my black vest that I wore over my white sweater and rest it over the back of the chair I often sat in before grabbing my meal. Reaching for a fork, I pop open the lid before falling into my seat across from her desk. “Find your favorite Ed Sheeran song?”
“Oh, ha ha,” Kirstin responds, looking up from her desk as her fingers halt. “That being said, though, I think I got the food figured out.”
I nod as she takes a bite of lettuce, twirling a fork in my pasta as I think about next weekend's event. “What do you need me to do?”
“Actually, have you gone through the rest of the applications yet?” She pushes herself away from her desk and walks over to one of the many filing cabinets she has in the office. “I had a few more trickle in and figured we could put them in your algorithm. See if some of them fit for the ones you had left over.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” I set my pasta down on her desk before digging through my work bag, pulling out the folders containing the matches I have completed. “Do you have JJ’s? I already have a couple of people in mind.”
Kirstin looks at me over her shoulder and grins, grabbing the folders she was looking for and setting them in front of me. “What would I ever do without you?”
“Now that right there seems to be the question of the day.”
We work as we eat, going through the leftover applications and talking over who we think would work best matched with who. Two hours later, after a bit of bickering and ‘you-know-I’m-rights’ being thrown around, we only have five leftover applications.
“Can you email the pairings and make them aware of next weekend’s event?” She asks as she throws a few things in her large book bag. “I have to get to a friend’s child’s birthday party.”
“Of course.” I pull out my phone and start typing a message to Blue. “Anything else you need done before Monday?”
Kirstin gives me a small smile as she slips into her coat and slings her bag over her shoulder, resting one hand on her desk as she looks down at me. “Not that takes priority over getting hometo your little girl and spending your Sunday with her. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
I nod gratefully and give her a reassuring smile before she slips out of her office. Flipping open my laptop, I write up sixteen different emails containing all the details for next weekend’s event, their matches, and attach my phone number in case they have questions. Just as I hit send on the last one, my phone buzzes on the desk.
Blue’s Clues
No worries, honey. We’re just watching a movie.
And yes, she finished her homework.
I chuckle quietly to myself as I close my laptop, stuffing it into my bag along with the five unmatched folders. I pull out the keys to the office before I throw my bag over my shoulder, leaving Kirstin’s office and locking the door before heading back into the hallway toward the elevator. Once the door is secured behind me, I push the down arrow and wait for the elevator to arrive.
A little over an hour later,I’m pulling into the parking lot of our apartment complex. Making sure I have the pizza secure in my hand and my bag over my shoulder, I make my way towards the stairwell and walk up the five flights of steps. Fishing my key fob out of my purse, I swipe it in front of the security sensor and push the door open. Stopping outside of our apartment, number 528, I hesitate as I hear male laughter.
Before I can push open the door, it’s pulled wide, and I don’t miss the irritated look that graces my best friend’s face. Blueglances down and takes the pizza out of my hands, gesturing her head towards the living room where my daughter’s laughter is echoing from.
“Guess he came back early.” Blue’s disapproval is evident in her voice. “Said he missed his daughter too much to stay away any longer.”
