I kissed Jack Edward Holt.
And he kissed me back. And it was the best kiss of my entire life, but we both agreed never to do it ever again.
Now I have to pretend that’s no big deal while also pretending to be Eric the friendly stockbroker you want to confess your deepest, darkest work frustrations to.
I’m beginning to think I should have majored in theater instead of journalism.
Mercifully, the first familiar face I encounter is a friendly one. Lulu, looking as rosy and upbeat as ever in a pink silk shirt and black ruffled skirt, waves to me across the lobby and hurries over with a big grin.
“Good morning,” she says, beaming at me as we head for the elevators. “Karaoke was so much fun on Friday! I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too. It was the highlight of my weekend. Thanks for the invite.”
She waves a breezy hand. “Any time. And who knows, maybe next time we can convince you to sing.”
I smile just the right amount, barely disturbing my mustache. “Maybe. Now that I know your crew is kind to the tone-deaf.”
“Absolutely. Kindness first. Laughs second. That’s what I always tell my kids.”
I step into the elevator, moving to the back to make room for the people behind us. “How many kids do you have?”
“Three wild little boys.” Her eyes go wide as she blows out a long breath that ends in a laugh. “They were at their dad’s this weekend. I used to get sad on his weekends, missing them, but karaoke changed all that. I also joined a book club.”
“I love to read. What’s your latest book club pick?” I ask, barely having to remind myself not to soundtooenthusiastic.
I really am getting the hang of restrained corporate manliness.
Now if I can manage not to blush or stammer like a teenager with a crush when I run into Jack, I’ll call this day a win.
We chat books up to the fifty-eighth floor and part ways at reception, Lulu heading to her desk on the far side of the room while I settle into my assigned spot among the other junior brokers. I make a mental note to ask Lulu how long she’s been at the company and if she’s ever applied for a management position, before diving into the emails waiting in my company inbox.
I’m digging deep on the portfolio specs for a potential client—a little shocked that Jack is trusting me to put together a proposal for a major league baseball player, considering my experience with real life finance versus business school financial theory—when a slim hand lands on my shoulder, making me jump.
“Hey there. Eric, right? Didn’t mean to scare you.” A tinkle of laughter fills the air as I turn to see S&H’s hiring manager. Blair is wearing a tight red suit-dress with matching red lipstick and a smile far friendlier than anything I saw from her during my time in the office as Ellie. “I’m Blair Keneally. Sorry I didn’t get to welcome you last week. Or vet you before your interview.”
“Nice to meet you, Blair.” Ignoring her subtle dig about my rapid hire, I take the hand she extends and shake it quickly, but firmly, hoping she won’t notice how feminine my hands are. That’s the one thing I can’t change with makeup or glued on hair.
But Blair is clearly focused on other things. As soon as I release her hand, she leans in close, perching on the edge of my desk as she playfully wrinkles her nose. “I have to confess I get a little frustrated when wild cards knock my picks out of the park. But I’m sure we’ll get along great. I have a good feeling about you, Eric.” She cocks her head to one side, sending her silky blond ponytail sliding over one shoulder.
“Oh, um, well, thank you.” I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Lulu and the other women in the office have been friendly, but this is the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of obvious flirtation.
Sheisflirting with me…
Right?
Ugh. Why? I mean, I guess I’m not bad looking if you like a lanky dude with a mustache, but I haven’t been sending out any signals, and Blair doesn’t seem like the type who goes for a Tom Selleck circa 1970 lookalike.
“You’re so welcome.” She reaches out, plucking a piece of lint from my shoulder and smoothing her fingertips across the fabric while I fight the urge to cringe. “In fact, I was wondering if you might be able to do me anitty-bitty favor. With all the vetting for the Portland office transition team, I’m behind on reviewing applications for New York. If I get you the files, could you handle that for me today?”
I pause, waiting for her to say she’s kidding, that this is her standard first-week-at- the-office prank on the new guys. But she just keeps batting her perfectly made-up baby blues.
My first inclination is to help, but just as I’m about to offer it up, a voice in my head chimes,WWDD—What Would Dudes Do?A dude at my level wouldn’t be so quick to take on extra work, no matter how flirty Blair’s being.
I clear my throat. “I wish I could, but hiring isn’t my area of expertise.”
“Of course not. I just thought you might be able to look over these resumes and see if any stand out. I’d really value your out-of-the-box opinion on this.”
I pretend to consider her request—I’d kill to get a look at those files. But something about her approach is making my sixth sense tingle—and not in the good way.