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“No, man. I’ve got to figure out my next steps. But thank you for the offer.” I lie.
I get my protein bowl packaged to go, head out of the diner, and walk towards my office building. I’m torn with what I should do.
I’ve been married for a month and only just found out. I’m confused and not sure what I should be doing. I am, however sure that I need to approach the fact that I’m married delicately.
What the hell do I do?
Chapter Six
“ This one time in Vegas, a unicorn was my maid of honor.”
PEYTON
My two days in Seattle were nerve-racking.
Everywhere I turned while in the city, I thought that he was around. I thought that I saw him in a window at some corner diner and I thought that he was standing in front of his office building.
It was almost like looking him up before the trip was a jinx and that was all I could think about.
The trip was a success and it looks like there may be a future of an office in Seattle.
Which is ironic.
After being in Seattle and paying attention to the lifestyle that people there live, it’s faster than I’m used to.
Yes, I live in the City of Angels, but I’m not immersed in the flashy portion of it. I live in Echo Park and that’s far from Hollywood, especially if you count sitting in traffic.
But, with being in downtown Seattle, I can feel the push and pull of the city, and by internet stalking him, I can tell he wouldn’t live a slow lifestyle. Or at least, I wouldn’t expect him to. His profiles show him in dress shirts and suits. His company profile makes him look like a badass and the fact that he’s a partner, means that he’s got little time for sitting around in sweats, eating his feelings and binging on the latest thing on Netflix.
What if we met, and he learned how I wouldn’t fit into his life. How I’m too regular and not fascinating enough for a powerful businessman.
I will admit that I’m judging a book by its cover. But just by the looks, he and I are night and day.
I’m a freaking office manager for a party planning company, albeit a well-known one, but I’m an office manager. I live comfortably, sharing an apartment with my best friend. We regularly will eat a box of mac-and-cheese over a seven-course meal, hell a three-course meal, and we save up all of our money for Vegas vacations like the one we returned from recently for months.
The types of guys that I date don’t wear three-piece suits, they wear jeans with flip-flops.
I spoon some ice cream into my mouth then sigh heavily. A light knock on my door interrupts my thoughts of despair.
“Hey, Hanna and I are thinking of going dancing tonight, do you want to come with?” She asks.
I look up at her from my pint of goodness, then look at my clothing.
“That would mean that I need to shower and get ready.” I state.
“How hard could that be?” She puts her hand on her hip.
“Well, that would mean that I would need to get up from my comfortable spot here on my bed. That I would need to shower, then get myself looking club ready. What would I wear?”
“Are you making excuses for not wanting to go out? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she leaves it open ended to leave the decision up to me.
I put my ice cream down and sit up to cross my legs.
“I don’t think I want to go, I’m feeling a little off after my trip and think that I’m going to just have a low-key weekend.” I tell her.
Quinn steps into the room and takes a seat at the foot of my bed with a concerned expression.
“What’s up?” she questions.
