“How about you? I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Yep. I have for a few years now. Using that degree I studied so hard for,” she says sarcastically.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I try to sound genuine.
When we were dating, she didn’t have any clue what she wanted to do for a living. In fact, she kept changing majors, which just meant she kept adding on classes she needed to take to graduate. It was one of the things that caused problems in our relationship. I had a very direct path of what I wanted to do, and she was kind of floating in space. It’s hard to be driven when you’re with someone who has no direction.
“It’s fine. I make good money here, better than some of my friends who work corporate jobs, so I like it. I heard you were engaged.” She glances at my hand, which is missing a wedding ring.
I hold it up to show her. “Nope. Didn’t work out.”
She steps up a little closer to me, suggestively saying, “Well, I still have the same number if you want to give me a call when you get back to your hotel.”
Zoe fails at trying to hide the chuckle that escapes her lips, and I instantly cringe inside.
“I’m not sure if I’ll have time. We meet with the client early tomorrow, then fly back out on Friday.”
“Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”
She walks away with an extra sway to her hips that I try not to notice and sit as fast as I can.
Zoe leans forward to whisper to me, “Awkward …”
I close my eyes, allowing the embarrassment I’m sure is showing all over my flushed face to wash over me. “It’s a long story …”
“Well, you obviously left an impression with her.”
She smirks, and I internally cringe.
Thankfully, our waitress brings us our drinks, and I grab mine to take a sip, hoping we can change the subject, not wanting to talk about my past sex life with my female coworker, especially when we are staying in a hotel together—in separate rooms, of course.
Our waitress takes our order—me a bison burger and her the salmon—and leaves us alone. Completely alone. With nothing to occupy or distract us. All day, we’ve had other things to keep us busy. Now, it’s just us. Staring at each other without a clue of what to talk about.
“Bison burger, huh?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“I can honestly say I’ve never even seen it on a menu.”
“Why do you think I ordered it? It’s something I only get here.”
She takes a sip of her wine, looking off in thought and probably trying to figure out what to talk about, just like I am.
“Do you miss home?” she asks, which catches me off guard.
I try not to think about missing home because, really, what’s the point? I don’t want to get to where I constantly think about it. I just push it out of my mind as much as possible.
“I mean, I love my job, and I love my life in New York. So, I guess I just leave it at that.”
“And what about your siblings?”
“How did you know I had siblings?”
She shrugs as she takes another sip of wine. “I guess I just figured.”
“Do you have siblings?”
She chokes on her wine and covers her mouth to cough, then shakes her head. “Actually, I don’t. Only child.”
