Next, I’m still working with the client. Yes, this means I have to work with David, but I’ll take the win that I wasn’t taken off the project.
Now I have to wrap my head around Work David being my Online David.
I open the app and scroll through our messages, trying to figure out how I missed this. David is not a unique name. I’m sure there are thousands in New York alone.
Then it hits me. Does he know who I am? What if he knew the entire time? What if he texted me yesterday to ask me what to do as his way of getting permission?
I told him to do it! I told him to go ahead and throw me under the bus. What is wrong with me?
I scroll through our texts again, searching for clues, and see my answer glaring back at me.
Jenelle.
He thinks my name is Jenelle. I’ve never told Online David my real name. That was the first time he’d typed Jenelle since the very first text he sent me.
I don’t know if I should be happy that I used my middle name or freaking out even more now.
I scroll to the most recent message and see the notification from the app, saying to not respond unless I want him to have my number or asking if I need more time to get to know him. With my thumb hovering over the screen, I have no clue what to do. So, I close the app and drop my head against the wall, wanting to fall to the floor but realizing I’m in the restroom so I probably shouldn’t.
“Zoe,” Jana whispers as she knocks on the door. “Open up before Christina comes out and sees me.”
I inhale and exhale, then reach over to unlock the door and wait for her to open it.
She’s quick to enter and close it behind her, whispering, “Are you having a panic attack or what? Why are you in here?”
I swipe my phone on and hold it out to her without saying a word.
She reads the message from the app, saying congratulations, then looks at me, confused. “I don’t get it. I thought you really liked this guy.”
“Read his message above that.”
I wait as she reads what he texted and watch her eyes open wide once it hits her.
“No. Way.”
I bang my head against the wall, and she jumps to place her hand between me and the hard surface, protecting me from any more self-inflicted pain.
“He’s your Online David?” she whisper-shouts, obviously in the same shock I am.
“Yep. That’s him.”
“How did you not know that? How does he not know it’s you?”
“When I signed up, I had no clue how this would go, but with my name being on the less common side, I didn’t want a creepy guy to figure out who I was, so I used my middle name.”
“That was probably smart.” She gives me an impressed expression. “But what does this mean now?”
“Why do you think I locked myself in the restroom? I can’t walk out of here. What am I supposed to do?”
“Do you think he knows?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. If he does, he’s playing this off very well. He actually asked for my advice last night on what he should do with this client and his coworker.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him to do exactly what he did! I just didn’t know he was going to do it to me.” I place my hands on my chest, tears streaming down my face.
She raises her eyebrows while rubbing her lips together, giving me a look that screams she’s trying not to laugh.
