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Setting my phone down, I resumed the steady rhythm of clattering keys, allowing the work to consume my mind. The project awaited, and I was determined to make progress. Thoughts of Marco and the breakup faded into the background as I poured myself into my work.
Every few minutes, my eyes landed on that picture—the two of us, arm in arm with bright smiles on our faces—and a surge of gratitude for Leo and the support he provided. When he came over tonight for pizza and beer, he’d let me vent and get angry, even though Marco ending our relationship was mostly my fault.
But there would be understanding, and that promise of consolation and camaraderie was a glimmer of hope in this otherwise difficult time.
I grinned at that silly picture, then delved back into the code. After all, if there was one thing I could trust in right now, it was the reliable precision of lines of code.
two
Leo
Bathed in the warm glow of my computer screen, I hunched over my cluttered desk, sketching furiously in my trusted sketch pad with one thought in my mind.
How can I make wine sexy?
When people thought of wine, they pictured older women having their nightly glass of red, or middle-aged friends meeting up for some day drinking before the kids’ soccer practice.
People my age didn’t drink wine—that was the problem my client had, and that was the problem I was going to solve for her.
Monstera Advertising, where I worked, was a vibrant oasis of creativity, humming with energy around me. But my corner cubicle was a sanctuary where posters boasting the success of my past campaigns adorned the walls and offering me inspiration, jostling for space among my colorful pens and that ever-present insulated mug of coffee.
A familiar voice chimed from behind the partition. “Hey, I think you’re onto something there.”
My eyes flicked up, and I grinned as I spotted Samantha, my cubicle neighbor and confidante. “Ah, Sam, always the bearer of good news. What do you think? I’m just throwing ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks.” I held up my notepad, a simple sketch of a woman standing in front of grapevines, the words ‘From Wine to Vine’ scribbled on top. “Picture a series of videos rolling out on TikTok, Insta, maybe even Facebook for the olds. Fifteen-second clips to remind Gen Z that drinking wine is cool.”
“Says the craft beer enthusiast.” Samantha smirked, resting her chin on the partition. She pushed her glasses up onto her nose. “But it’s a good idea. You know Jack loves a social media blitz.”
“Fingers crossed.” I appreciated Sam’s insight about our boss.
A sudden buzz from my phone interrupted our banter, a text message from my best friend, Ben. “Aw man.”
“What’s up?” Samantha inquired, her own eyebrows knitting together.
I shook my head, leaning back in my chair with a groan. “Ben just got dumped. Again.”
“Ouch. That’s what, the third time this year?” Samantha winced in sympathy.
“Fourth, if you count a hook-up that lasted longer than it should have,” I said glumly. “Benny Boy just can’t catch a break.”
Samantha’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Is he the cute one you pointed out at the Christmas party last year? The blond one with the sexy stubble and dreamy eyes? Looked kinda like Charlie Hunnam?”
I chuckled, the sound vibrating with warm amusement. “Down, girl. Ben bats for the other team, remember?” I leaned in closer, conspiratorially whispering, “Gaaaaay.”
“Ah, too bad.” Samantha sighed theatrically. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been able to keep a boyfriend. He seems like such a catch.”
I nodded appreciatively. “He’s funny, handsome, and athletic—if you’re into smart guys with perfect bodies, I guess.” My voice dripped with dry humor. “But he’s also extremely dedicated to his job, which leaves no room for relationships.”
Samantha’s tone turned thoughtful. “Dating a workaholic is never easy. Been there, done that.” She peered at me, her voice filled with genuine concern. “Speaking of breakups, how are you holding up after Leigh? I really thought she was the one for you.”
I shrugged nonchalantly, just like I did anytime someone mentioned my ex-girlfriend. “I’m fine. Over it.”
And I was fine, not that anyone believed me.
I paused, running a hand over my ample stomach, and gave it a soft pat. “Besides, I need to focus on getting in shape before I even think about dating again.” I chuckled self-deprecatingly. “You know how body-conscious this city can be.” Austin was a great city, and I loved it here, an hour from the small town where I’d grown up. But damn, to a chubby guy like me, sometimes it felt like everyone was fit and in shape.
Samantha’s voice brimmed with support. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Women love big teddy bears like you.”
“Thanks, Sam.” I smiled sheepishly. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
