LoveLines

by S. Walden

  “I was about to wipe my face with this,” he said quietly.

  “I know.”

  “I was about to put this shit on my face.”

  Camden bit his lip to suppress the grin. “You’re tired, Reece. You think we oughta call it a night?”

  “There’s something wrong with me,” Reece went on. “You’re right. I go after freaks. What am I thinking entertaining the idea of pursuing this girl? I know she’s OCD. No one looks that put together all the time. No one’s desk at work stays in a state of orderliness. All. Day. Long. You hear what I’m sayin’ to you? I’m talking all day. It’s not right. It’s not human. There’s something wrong with her.”

  Camden nodded. It was a sympathetic nod mixed with “I told you so.”

  Reece threw up his hands. “I’m done! Interest? Killed. Obsession? Over.”

  “What about this game?” Camden asked.

  “Not over,” Reece replied, and he tried his hardest to concentrate on the remaining rounds. The problem was that he saw a swinging ponytail in the distance and was distracted all over again.

  ***

  “Did you see it?!” Christopher cried.

  Reece grinned. “Yeah. I saw it.”

  “What do you think about the final product?”

  “I thought it couldn’t have been better. I think the commercial is awesome.”

  “What did you think about how they dressed the mom model?” Christopher asked.

  Reece chuckled. It wasn’t exactly his vision, but it worked. She was still in the business suit he wanted, but Haute Digital thought a high-fashion business suit would translate better—sharp angles and ruffles in weird places. Not your average everyday woman’s suit.

  “Dude! Check this out.” Christopher slid Technology Now, the most popular tech magazine, across the table. “Read that.”

  Reece held up the magazine and cleared his throat. “‘Haute Digital—a leading innovator in the phone/computer hybrid—tried a “fashionable” approach to marketing its newest phablet. Merging runway, couture, supermom, and a clever tagline (it’s “phablous,” people), the company left the competition in the creative dust thanks to the vision of Reece Powell at Beach Elite Marketing Firm in Wilmington, NC. A boutique firm specializing in both small and mid-level accounts hit the jackpot when it partnered with the multi-billion dollar phone company. And it looks to be a business relationship that will continue.

  ‘The vision for a phone that has, up until recently, fared poorly with female businesswomen on account of its size has seen a surge in sales among working women. The sales for businessmen are through the roof, and that makes Haute Digital very happy’ . . .”

  Reece’s voice faded as he read the rest of the article silently. When he finished, he looked at his friend. “They said my name,” he breathed.

  Christopher nodded and did a little shoulder-pump dance. “Yeah, they did.”

  “This magazine is read by, like, every techy and tech company in the world,” Reece went on.

  “Reece, man, you don’t get it. This magazine never highlights marketing campaigns. That’s what a marketing magazine does. But they featured us—you! That’s freaking huge!”

  Reece processed this. It was true. Technology Now focused on technology, not marketing. Why would they feature an article about marketing? Was the campaign that good?

  “Yous about to be a superstar,” Christopher went on playfully.

  “I just put her on the runway and made her say ‘fablous.’ That’s it,” Reece said. He felt the numbing shock creep through his fingers. They tingled, and then each digit seemed to dissolve. He smacked his hands on the table, trying to bring his hands back to life.

  “Man, don’t downplay. Never downplay. People like this commercial. People like what you did. Haute Digital loves what you did. Be proud of yourself,” Christopher replied.

  Reece nodded. “Well, don’t discount yourself. You storyboarded the entire commercial.”

  “Oh, I’m not discounting what I did,” Christopher said. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll eat up every compliment and freebie that comes my way.”

  Reece laughed. “Freebie?”

  “Yeah, like if someone wanna take me to lunch.”

  “Is that usually how it works in marketing? You storyboard a popular commercial and then get free lunch?”

  “Lunch, booty, whatever.”

  Reece howled with laughter.

  “We are celebrating tonight!” Christopher shouted.

  “Where?”

  “I’m gonna take you downtown, my friend. Show you all the bars Wilmington has to offer. We’ll start off low key at The Blue Post, right? Maybe shoot some pool. Then we’ll mosey on over to The Reel Café and get our dance on—”

  “I like that place,” Reece interjected, thinking of Bailey dancing.

  Christopher continued, “Then maybe we take it up a notch and hit up Level 5.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Another rooftop bar.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Sounds like I’ll be hurting the next day,” Reece said.

  “And we’re gonna find us some honeys to hang with. Now that you’re a small celebrity—”

  “In the tech world, Chris. No one cares about that. And anyway, what am I saying? I’m not a small celebrity.”

  “You are!” Christopher argued. “And all you gotta say is ‘commercial,’ and they be like, ‘Oooo, what commercial? You worked on a commercial?’ and wanna sit in your lap.”

  Reece laughed so hard he didn’t hear the door to the conference room open. Bailey stood in the threshold smiling, hugging Technology Now against her chest, beaming at her love interest.

  “Well, look who it is,” Christopher said. “The girl who had us respell ‘fablous.’ And subsequently land us in the biggest tech magazine on the planet! What’s up, Beboppin’ Bailey?”

  “I highlighted the word,” she said, and held up her magazine. “See?”

  “You highlighted my man’s name, too, I see,” Christopher noted, and Reece went hot all over.

  Bailey blushed. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

  “Thanks,” Reece replied. He was still flushed himself, and avoided her eyes. That wasn’t like Reece to avoid anyone’s eyes, but Christopher’s compliments along with Bailey’s well wishes were a bit too much. He wasn’t used to the praise. He’d never developed a marketing campaign that created so much buzz, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  Others started pouring into the conference room for the 8:30 meeting. Bailey was pushed aside as coworkers swarmed Reece, congratulating him and discussing the magazine article. She took a seat in the corner, still holding her copy of Technology Now, wondering if Reece planned to eat lunch with her today. He may forget about her altogether now that his life was so clearly going somewhere.

  Dan was last to enter the conference room. Silence descended as colleagues held their breath, waiting for their boss’s reaction. He looked Reece square in the face and inclined his head.

  “It’s a pretty damn good day, isn’t it?”

  ***

  She had no clue he stood directly behind her in the snack line. And it was a long line. He thought they’d miss the first fifteen previews.

  “Here by yourself?” he asked, tapping her shoulder.

  Bailey whirled around, eyes wide when she recognized him.

  “Wow. Now there’s a face,” Reece said, chuckling. “You look like you’ve been caught.”

  She smiled uneasily. Hadn’t she?

  “Here alone?” Reece asked.

  Bailey bit her lower lip and nodded. “Go ahead and think it. I’m lame, right? Going to the movies by myself? That’s what lame people do, right?”

  Reece considered this. “Well, then I must be pretty lame, too.”

  “Oh gosh. I’m sorry. I meant for women.”

  He burst out laughing. “Are you always so hard on your own gender?”

  “Not me,” Bailey explained. “The world. It�
��s totally fine that you’re here alone. Cool, actually. Completely different for me. It’s much more, ‘Oh, look at that poor, sad woman over there. Does she not have a boyfriend? A friend? Does she not even have a home? Maybe we should take her home and feed her something.’”

  Reece chuckled. “Now that’s just not fair.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bailey mumbled.

  She hung her head. She knew her eyelashes obscured her eyes which gave her the perfect opportunity to check out his clothes. He wore a gray, striped long-sleeve T-shirt that hugged his chest and arms. Very flattering. She rather enjoyed studying the curves and dips of his muscles. It had been three long months since she’d touched man muscles, and it was excruciating standing there refraining from touching his. She let her eyes travel down his dark jeans to his Lacostes. God, he was a cutie.

  “Well, why don’t you let me feed you, at least?” Reece offered. “I mean, since your life is so pathetic. It’s the least I can do.”

  She lifted her face to him and cocked her head. “That’s funny.”

  “Seriously,” Reece said. “I’m not here with anyone. You aren’t either. We could watch the movie together.”

  “How do you know what movie I’m going to see?”

  “Easy. It’s the one I’m seeing.”

  Bailey shook her head and giggled. Was she flirting? She was pretty sure she was flirting.

  “Nuh uh,” she sang.

  “Fine, we’ll see yours,” Reece said. “But if it’s a chick flick, you so owe me.”

  “It’s one of those smart, ironic comedies about the families who are way cool and progressive,” Bailey explained.

  “Ohhhh, yeah. Those ones that try to make you feel like an idiot if you don’t get the hip, ironic jokes?” Reece asked.

  “Exactly,” Bailey replied. “They make me feel like I oughta retake the GRE.”

  “I totally did that,” Reece confessed. “For the fun of it!”

  She laughed as they approached the counter.

  “For the lady?” Reece asked.

  Bailey shrugged. “Just water.”

  “Just water?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Hold up. You stood in this long line for ‘just water?’”

  She nodded again.

  Reece shook his head and addressed the worker: “We’ll have some peanut M&Ms, a jumbo popcorn with extra butter and salt, jumbo drink, box of Skittles, nachos, and Reese’s Pieces.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Bailey said.

  “Oh, I so did,” Reece replied, winking.

  Bailey snatched the cup and filled it with ice and water.

  “Where’s yours?” she asked, but she knew exactly what he was up to.

  “My what?”

  “Your drink? I assume you got this humongous cup for me,” she replied.

  Reece looked at her, then at the line, then at her again. “Umm . . .”

  “You assumed we’d share!” she cried, laughing. “You’ve got some nerve, buddy. We’re not at that level in our friendship yet. And anyway, how do I know you don’t have some weird mouth disease?”

  Reece hung his head. “All right. You caught me. I thought we’d share a drink to accelerate the intimacy of our friendship.”

  “‘Intimacy of our friendship,’ huh?” Bailey joked.

  She hadn’t considered that they may, in fact, be friends. He ate lunch with her nearly every day since they cleared the air about The Reel Café booty-shaking incident. He talked to her all the time. She knew all this, but she never thought about it all in terms of true friendship. She thought he was just being a nice coworker.

  “No weird mouth disease. I swear. But if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll just get back in that long line and order myself a drink. You can tell me what happens in the first hour of the movie.” He grinned at her and waited.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she mumbled. “Come on.” She glanced at the large tray of food in his hands.

  “I’m not touching those nachos, by the way. Have at ‘em. They’re all yours.”

  Reece looked shocked. He pulled napkins from the dispenser and followed Bailey to Theater 13.

  “You’ve never had theater nachos?”

  She crinkled her nose. “Nope.”

  “I can’t . . . I don’t even . . . what is the world coming to . . . you . . .”

  Bailey stopped short at the theater door. Reece nearly bumped into her from behind, but he caught himself in time. Much to his chagrin.

  “Anything the matter?”

  “Thirteen,” she whispered.

  “And?”

  She shifted from foot to foot, then turned to her sort-of date.

  “What movie were you going to see?” she asked.

  “The one you wanted to see,” he replied.

  She smiled patiently. “No, I mean before we met up. What were you planning to see?”

  “This one.”

  “Seriously, Reece.”

  “I’m being serious. I was really planning to see this movie. Hold up.” He balanced the tray of goodies on his arm and reached in his back pocket. He pulled his ticket stub and showed her. “See?”

  “Hmm,” Bailey said.

  “My goal is to come out feeling intellectually superior,” he explained, then added dismissively, “It’s a stupid game I play.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you superstitious or something?” he asked after a moment.

  “Well . . .” She averted her eyes.

  “Thirteen isn’t the scariest number on the planet,” he offered. “Although, that is around the time you hit puberty, and that mess is scary as hell.”

  Bailey laughed. He watched for those perfect teeth. God, he loved looking at them. They were pretty when she talked. They were gorgeous when she smiled. They lit up her face like a firework when she laughed.

  “I know it’s not, like, a bad luck number.”

  “Then why are we standing outside this door?”

  “It’s the numbers one and three,” Bailey admitted. “I don’t have the best track record with them. Specifically when they’re reversed.”

  “You’re not a fan of the number thirty-one?” Reece asked.

  “Not a bit.”

  “Why?”

  “That, my very new friend, is not your business yet,” Bailey replied.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Reece said. “I really didn’t care anyway.”

  She giggled and took a breath.

  “How old are you?” he asked out of the blue.

  “Thirty-one.”

  “Oh. So you’re having a bad year or something, huh?”

  Bailey shrugged. “They’ve been about the same since I was six.”

  Reece narrowed his eyes and studied her face. “You’re getting more mysterious by the minute. Is this a game? I’m supposed to figure out stuff based on your random clues?”

  “No. But that sounds like fun,” she replied.

  “You know what else sounds like fun?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Watching this movie with you,” he replied. “I bet we can make it in if we do it together.”

  She nodded, and they entered the theater side by side, right in time for the first preview. The lights dimmed, and they walked carefully up the side steps to two open seats in the corner of the nosebleed section.

  “Great,” Bailey whispered as they settled in. “This is where people sit to make out.”

  Reece wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, if I’m lucky.”

  Her mouth dropped open. He thought he’d gone too far, and for a split second wished he could take it back. But then he realized he didn’t need to take anything back. She was smiling at him. Sharing in his joke. And her wink suggested the possibility of a kiss. That was if he stayed on his best behavior.

  Something very naughty is about to happen in this theater, Reece thought, and he bit into a nacho to divert his attention.

  Bailey nestled the water in the cup holder between them. He wondered if
she really meant to share. He completely dismissed her OCD when he thought of his wily plan to order a single drink. He didn’t know much about OCD apart from the fact that people who suffered from it tended to be particular about certain things. Maybe she had an issue with germs. His mind immediately went to their lunch dates—always the hand sanitizer before she ate. But then lots of people clean their hands before they eat. He washed his.

  He was spinning, imagining she must have thought he was a jerk for pulling the one-cup stunt. What possessed him to do it? Did he think he was being cute? Was he that desperate to put his lips on her straw? Could he not just be a man and kiss her? That’s what he really wanted to do.

  I’m fucking Reece Powell, he thought. And I’m in a magazine.

  His confidence was short-lived. He immediately leaned over and whispered in Bailey’s ear, “I’ll get myself a drink. It’s no problem.”

  “Nonsense,” she whispered back. “We can just share.”

  He watched her grab the drink carefully with two hands and take a sip. And then she extended the drink to him. He felt a rush of something dangerously exciting in that moment, like she was offering her mouth for a kiss. He had to keep telling himself that this wasn’t a date—that he wasn’t allowed to date her. They worked together. Forget it, Reece! But, oh! He couldn’t deny the urge to knock that jumbo cup right out of her hands and pull her on top of him. He wanted to make out like a teenager. He wasn’t sure he quite remembered how to make out like a teenager, but the feeling coursed through his veins, pumped his heart, swelled his masculine desire.

  Oh my God, he thought suddenly. I’ve got a hard-on.

  “You want some or what?” Bailey asked softly.

  Reece took the water and drank down a sizeable amount. He grew paranoid that she could see his hard-on, but that would be impossible. The lights were dim. There was an armrest between them. Relax, bro. You’re cool. She can’t see your . . . oh, wait a minute. There it goes. It’s going down. Phew! Thank God. How embarrassing would that have been, right? For her to see how much she turns me on? How much I can’t stop thinking about the kind of panties she wears under those cigarette pants. The way her tits look in her button-up tops. Man, I love how she buttons them all the way up . . . wait a minute. Hold up. I mean down! Go down! Stupid dick!