the skirt not the ass — the ass is…magnificent. And distracting. I shake off the interest and mentally
slap my dick. We are not going there.
But she’s on her knees again…and that’s really fucking distracting.
Sighing, I duck down, meeting her eyes past the table legs. “You’re on your knees. Again. Why are
you crawling around on the floor?”
She barely spares me a glance, but I think I catch a roll of her eyes. “I’m looking for my shoes,
remember?”
“You don’t know where they are?”
She sits back on her heels and throws her hands up. “If I knew where they were, I wouldn’t be
looking for them, would I?”
I need a fucking drink.
Or three.
6
MAYA
“Y ou can do this, woman. It’s just a dinner. You go, you eat, you come home. People do it every
day.”
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hoping my pep talk will have changed things, but nope, I still
look terrified. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, reminding myself that I chose this. I wanted
to shake up my life. Living my life in my tiny little bubble has gotten me exactly nowhere. I’m in my
thirties, I’ve never been in a relationship, and if I died tomorrow, the only person who would care is
Abigail. I promised myself this would be a fresh start and I wouldn’t be such a loner in Chicago.
Phase one of that plan is to make friends.
I did really well today with the staff. It was strange at first, but I smiled when they did. Laughed
when they did, and suddenly it wasn’t so scary anymore. Maybe I canpeople.
So why am I still panicking?
Because this shit is hard. There’s no Birdie as a buffer, so it’s just me and my insecurities. How
can I be so confident at work, and such a wreck in all the other areas of my life? I’m sure there’s a
diagnosis for what’s going on in my head right now, but I don’t have time to google it. It’s already six,
and Cara’s waiting for me.
I throw my long, dark hair into a quick ponytail. I thought about curling it, trying to make myself
