I shake my head.
Calla nods slowly. “Continue.”
“If I want to getfriendlywith them, the best way to start without potentially causing a Human Resources problem is to get friendly. Get it? So I’m going to tangent—subtly—into something semi-personal, like the cute thing my dog did. Everyone loves dogs, and bam! I’m no longer just a professional connection.”
“That totally checks out,” Xera says.
But I’m still shaking my head. This time in horror becauseI’mthe one who did that. There was no real reason for me to text him at all—I could have explained why I’m nonverbal in an email. I also said he was attractive and hit on him—clumsily, sure, but that doesn’t change what it was.
Oh my god, what if I’ve been forcing my attention on Griff this whole time?
Suddenly Calla’s at my side, wrapping an arm around me. “Whoa, babe, time to sit down.”
I’m hyperventilating.
Fuck, this is a disaster.
She steers me to the sofa and breathes with me until the foggy feeling in my head clears. When I’m finally feeling mostly normal again, I look up to see Butch directing Xera as she takes photos of her jeans.
I lean sideways and rest my head on Calla’s shoulder in thanks, and she pats my back lightly. “Wanna tell me about it?”
Do I want to tell her I’m a pathetic loser who invented a pseudo-flirtation with a guy who’s just trying to do his job? Not really. But I could use a second opinion.
Cringing, I open my text thread with Griff and hand it to her.
She reads in silence, scrolling down… and down… and down. Wow, I guess Griff and I have been texting a lot. Xera changes into a different pair of jeans before Calla finishes reading.
Eventually, though, she looks at me, a soft smile on her face. “This man is so into you.”
What?
I snatch my phone back, open the Notes app, and type
But I’m the one who started it all and made it personal! I harassed him!
She reads over my shoulder and snorts before I even finish. “Phil, no. Okay, so maybe you started it all. But trust me, he had plenty of opportunities to shut you down politely. There were at least four times when he was the one who texted first. Like that dog pic?” She shakes her head.
I bite my lip, not fully convinced.
“Xera,” she calls. “Come look at this pic that Phil’s new wannaboo sent him randomly in the middle of a workday. What’s the message here?” She gestures to me. “Show her the dog photo. The second one.”
Sighing, I bring up the pic and show Xera, who breaks out in a grin.
“Oh, he is so into you. That’s not just a cute dog pic, that’s a ‘look what a good dog daddy I am.’ He’s totally trying to impress you.” She pats my cheek. “Do we want to be impressed?”
I bat her hand away, bite my lip… and nod.
“Let me see,” Butch demands. “He needs our approval before we let him win you.”
I snatch my phone back before this whole situation gets any more ridiculous, and Xera laughs as she goes to change into the next pair of jeans. That’s one benefit of tonight—the jeans were literally made for her, so she’s the perfect model. Plus, having an artist take the photos guarantees they’ll turn out good. Butch isn’t a professional photographer, but she’s better at it than me or Calla.
Who elbows me gently. “Is this what’s freaked you out today? Seeing Griff again and maybe wanting more than a professional relationship with him?”
I grimace, then type
I guess.
It’s hard to know if he’s just being nice. Am I reading into this? I don’t want to fuck things up for Phallacy.
