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They both stand outside my cube staring at me, waiting for me to say something. I don’t, instead I look at them both and shoo them away and they scatter to their work areas muttering under their breath.
I start with my day and before I know it, it’s lunch time and I’m fending off more questioning from Shane and Olivia.
I don’t give any additional information, regardless of how hard they try. By the end of the day, I’m exhausted from side-stepping them and want to just crawl into bed.
Hiding a relationship is tough.
* * *
A knock interrupts my thoughts.
I had completely forgotten about the date with Quinn tonight.
After spending half of my day fending off questions from Olivia and Shane, I started working on a project, stayed a little later than expected at work, and came home thinking that I would start drinking instead of eating something to nourish me. I don’t look my best, in fact I’m wearing shorts and a beat-up sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder with my hair up.
I begrudgingly drag my feet to the door, and swing it open. Quinn looks as handsome as ever. No jacket, standard polo t-shirt that brightens his topaz eyes, the five-o-clock shadow from a day’s growth, tight blue jeans and a smile that could unhook my bra, if I was wearing one.
I look down at myself and then back up at him.
“Maybe we should stay in,” he says pushing off the doorframe.
“I’m sorry, I forgot about dinner, and after the day that I had—I just needed to start drinking a little and not do a thing.”
“Bad day?” he asks.
“Well, no not really. It was past exhausting.”
“Let me call the restaurant and cancel our reservations and order some pizza. How does that sound?” he asks.
“Like you just won some points for being an understanding partner,” I reply.
He disappears into the kitchen and I hear him on the phone as I take a seat on the couch. Once he comes and sits beside me, he has his shoes off and leans back.
“Tell me about your day?” he asks.
“Well first, thank you for all the flowers, you honestly didn’t have to, they were all beautiful.”
“I have a feeling that there’s a but coming.”
I laugh lightly and offer him a smile.
“It’s not bad, at all. The flowers just raised some questions—okay a lot of questions, and it was annoying. Not the flowers—the questions.”
“Ah, I see. All the more reason for our relationship to be public.” He pushes.
“Quinn, I would love to be able to flaunt you as my man. I would love to have a framed photo of us on my desk, and maybe one day soon that can happen. But with our positions as it stands now, we shouldn’t.”
“One day soon?” he asks.
“There are a few open positions at a few other places that just came up this week on the job boards.” I shrug.
“Okay,” he says slowly, clearly eager to hear more.
“It’s something that I’ve been thinking about. It’s also something that would allow us to not have to be so secretive, and after today, I’m not sure that I would be able to keep stories straight. And it’s hard to come up with excuses for you to not meet them.”
“Have you applied?” he asks.
“I haven’t yet, but I’m strongly considering it. I would need to brush up my resume, since it’s been awhile that I’ve actually opened it.”
“How long have you been at the magazine?” he asks. “I know that I should know this but forgive me this once.”
“It was my first job out of college. So about five years.”
“And you were really wanting that promotion, since you’ve been in this one for so long.” He nods in understanding.
“Yes,” I reply.
“You do deserve more.” He rests his hand on my knee.
