DEAN:Fine.
POPPY:You’re really not a morning person, are you?
DEAN:I’m a person who likes advance notice.
POPPY:Noted. I’ll send you a detailed itinerary.
DEAN:Please don’t.
POPPY:Too late. Already making it.
Of course she is.
DEAN:Color-coded?
POPPY:Obviously. What do you take me for, an amateur?
This time I do smile. Just a little. And that’s the problem.
I put the phone in my desk drawer and lock it.
I’ve got two hours to finish this motion. Two hours to prove I’m partnership material. Two hours to focus on what actually matters.
Not vanilla candles.
Not color-coded itineraries.
And definitely not the way she says my name like it’s a challenge and a promise at the same time.
I open a new document and start typing.
The phone buzzes from inside the drawer.
I ignore it.
It buzzes again.
I keep typing.
The third buzz breaks me.
I unlock the drawer and check the message.
POPPY:Your brother says you play piano. True or false?
I stare at the text.
Why does she want to know?
Why does it matter?
Why am I already typing back?
DEAN:True.
POPPY:What kind of music?
DEAN:Classical mostly. Some jazz.
