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Oh, I could’ve done an accent! I’ve been bingeing Bachelor in Paradise Australia, and my Aussie accent is getting good.” Chelsea says “getting good” in an accent not authentic to any region of the Commonwealth.
“Oh, you noticed. And it was reciprocated.” I fidget with my sleeve. “You saw us talking for one second.” She levels me with a look that says one second was all she needed.
“I’m fine. Thanks.” “Good.” He offers me a curt nod. If his words were an attempt at compassion, no one told his face.
“Are you a lawyer?” “No. I’m a carpenter.” “Like Jesus?”
A healthy penchant for gossip is my favorite trait in officemates,
The only good thing about a flash mob is that I can leave the mall food court. They can’t force me to sit in front of Panda Express while Bruno Mars happens to me.”
“I’m a tall man, Alison. I can’t loom over a crowd of children alone.”
“I should probably apologize about last week.” He rubs his beard with agitated movements, waiting for my reply. “Was that the apology or will it come later?”
“You’ve stopped talking,” he observes, seconds or minutes later. “Yes, Adam. I’m aware that you think I talk too much.” “Too much implies I don’t like it.”
I giggled
He tilts his head lazily to look down at me. It’s cute. Adam is suddenly extremely cute to me. It’s staggering.
11:36 AM Alison: You don’t need to eat with me if you’re busy. 11:38 AM Adam: Well, now I want a Reuben, so…
I’ve seen Lake Superior, and it’s just a moodier Lake Michigan.”
Wildly inaccurate take but whatever
“Please, Adam. I can’t leave Duluth without getting my peepers on some spindles.” “Don’t say peepers,” he says on a weary exhale.
I can’t help it; I paste on a smile and choose the path of least resistance. “Of course not.” He looks at me in a way I feel in my toes before he lifts one finger and traces the corner of my lip. Then he asks, his voice so low I almost miss it, “Why do you think I want to hear that?”
Shhhhhh
“I’m not super fun right now.” “Perfect, I’m never fun.”
This. This is the one
But we were supposed to meet up for New Year’s, so I just thought we’d figure it out by then. He was planning to set me up at his party with some girl who was ‘perfect for me,’ and I was already strategizing how to blow it off.”
Hmmmm
“You’re lucky you even got a lunch. I figured out this address was a cancer center while I was waiting for my sub and left.” “Without your sandwich?” He shrugs like it shouldn’t have been a question.
His jaw works as he starts and stops before saying his next sentence. “You’re kind of my favorite new person, if that’s not too weird a thing to say.”
He waves but doesn’t drive away. He lets the car behind him honk to watch me get into my building safely. It’s so effortlessly tender, and I wonder if he would’ve done it for any friend, or if maybe I’m special.
“You reshare too many pictures of chairs in your Instagram stories.” “Yeah. Cool it on the chairs, bro. Mix up your content strategy,”
He’s leaning against his truck with his hands in his pockets. He’s phenomenal at leaning.
“Morning.” I try to flip over, so we’re eye to eye, but he playfully keeps me nestled against him. “No. Too comfy. Don’t ruin it,”
If I woke up to Adam every morning, I might be able to give up coffee. Though Adam is clearly a caffeine addict, so I can’t imagine there would be a shortage of coffee in a life with him.
“You need a bookshelf for those.” Adam gestures from beside me. “If only I knew a hot carpenter.”
She even changed her email sign-off to ‘Cheers’ with an exclamation point. There’s only one explanation—aside from a lobotomy.”
His signature reversible jacket—khaki-side out—is covering a charcoal crewneck sweater and navy slacks. “Are you wearing fancy pants?” I paw at his clothes to get a better look.
My mom gave us all food poisoning from an undercooked turkey twenty years ago, so she usually makes a Stouffer’s lasagna while my dad holes up in the den and murmurs at the Lions in distress.”
Classic Michigan Thanksgiving experience
“His first words were drop leaf table.” I squeal in delight, but Adam’s face reddens by the second. “That’s an exaggeration.”
Adam is in a cream fisherman’s sweater, awakening within me a new—and decidedly sexual—Deadliest Catch fantasy.
“If this is a misdial, I’ll kill you.” “Suddenly, I’m wondering why I was so nervous to call you.”
“You can join your team, but per the bylaws, I need your excuse to log into the spreadsheet.” “I would have gotten here earlier but we broke up during the couples massage, and then we had to drive home together—” Darren moves the mic to the side. “Just say traffic, man.” “Of course. Traffic. Sorry.”
I love that you snort when you find something truly funny.” I snort a little at that, and the sound emboldens him.
“I watched the Billy Crystal movie. I watched three, actually, before I figured out which one was the right one. But I wanted to Billy Crystal you again. More intentionally this time.”
“Third’s good, right?” Adam asks. Mara pats his cheek. “Oh, Adam, you sweet, gorgeous dummy. There’s only winning and losing.”
He sighs like I’m the most infuriating woman he can’t live without—it’s the loveliest sound.
“Thin Mints in the freezer,” Adam says. Despite his rants on the Girl Scout business model—What kind of company requires adults to engage in financial transactions in Target parking lots with children, Alison?—he keeps a stash ready for me at all times.
