When a knock on my door sounded, I said absently, “Come in.”
“Up for some company?”
The sound of Leyla’s voice made me swallow the bite of pasta while nodding quickly.
After taking a sip of water, I said, “Sorry, caught me with my mouth full. Please, sit down.”
She had brought her lunch with her, so I hurried to make space for her on my desk, my head buzzing with energy.
“Sorry I didn’t give you any notice. I finally had a moment of quiet from the phone, so I thought I’d visit my, um, friend. Like I said last night. It’s been a while. You doing okay?”
My thoughts were jumbled as I tried to make sense of everything she’d just said and of her behavior earlier. These were the times I wish I understood subtext and body language better.
She’d finally gotten a quiet moment from her duties, and she wanted to spend it withme?
Don’t forget she said friend, dude.
Grimacing, I pushed Mike’s voice out of my head. That’s all I needed right now.
“Is that all right? I can leave if you’d rather eat in peace,” she said, already picking up her black container of lunch.
I stood so quickly to stop her that I hit my knees on my desk. Ignoring the pain, I said, “No, please. Sorry. I need to work on my pauses in conversation so people don’t get the wrong impression. Please, stay.”
She smiled and sat back down just as I did. Crisis averted.
“So, how was New York?” I forced out, desperate for her to stay.
Mixing up her pasta and vegetables, she answered, “Really good. Made some strong contacts at the conference. When I catch my breath, there are a few ideas I’d like to go over with you.”
“I’m yours when you’re ready,” I answered with a smile.
Her fork stopped, and her green eyes found mine. Oh, I’d said the wrong thing again.
“I mean, I’m available. To you. I’m available when you’re ready.” Cue the sweating.
Leyla chuckled and took a bite of pasta, nodding her understanding.
“And you? Been doing anything fun while I was gone?” she asked, twirling her pasta again, gathering vegetables on her fork.It took me a second to realize she was trying to get a bit of pasta and broccoli together before eating again.
“What?” she asked around her second bite when she noticed me staring at her.
I pointed to her lunch. “Looks like you’re trying out some mathematical equation there.”
She put her hand over her mouth when she started to laugh. Once the food was swallowed, she chastised me. “I was looking for the perfect bite. And don’t make me laugh when I’ve got a mouthful of food. That’s table etiquette 101. Not to mention not cool in friend code.”
Smiling, I asked, “Friend code?”
“Yeah, you know, don’t make them spit out food or liquid while eating. Always tell them if they have spinach in their teeth. Always order extra fries so the other one can share. Friend code.”
I nodded. “I’ll make a note of it and not mention that you did the same thing to me when you walked in.”
Her melodic laugh filled my office, making my heart swell.
Gathering my courage, I said, “And do friends help in other ways?” I shoved a big bite of food in my mouth to keep from saying anything else incriminating.
Leyla took a sip of water and sat back in her chair. “Was there something in particular you were needing help with?”
Great, she was putting it back to me to bring up. I had not planned for this contingency. Since she had brought up the idea of helping me on a pretend date, I assumedshewould steer the conversation back to it once we were alone again.
