“Not too bad,” I remark and the phone rings, so I run over to my desk, letting Chelsea fill Hannah in on the details.
“Good morning, thank you for calling the RISE Foundation, Victoria speaking, how can I help you?”
“Is Hannah in?” the man on the line asks.
“Can I ask who’s speaking?”
“Mr. Bennett. She’s expecting my call.”
“Sure thing. Hold please.” I place him on hold and head to Chelsea’s office where Hannah is laughing, slapping the edge of Chelsea’s desk.
“I’ll pay you to go on another date with him. Maybe he’ll write a poem about you.”
Chelsea flips Hannah off.
“Hey, I’m your boss.” Hannah can barely spit out the words without laughing.
“Then go and keep this place afloat. I’m obviously never going to meet a man who can handle me and take care of me.” Chelsea types something on her keyboard.
“Hannah, there’s a Mr. Bennett on hold for you,” I say.
Her eyes light up and her head tips back. “Yes, I need to talk to him. Forward him to my desk.” She stands and rounds the doorway of Chelsea’s office.
“Hey, Vic,” Chelsea stops me before I follow Hannah. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. Her face suddenly pale and her features drawn. “Who’s Mr. Bennett?”
I shrug.
“Tax attorney,” Hannah hollers from down the hall.
“Oh, okay.” Relief streaks across her face. “Never in a million years,” she mumbles more to herself than me I think.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Peachy,” she says, but I’m not sure I totally believe her.
“Maybe you need a guy like a tax attorney,” I joke hoping to lighten her mood again.
“No, you need a man like that. Boring and responsible. I need a bad boy with a heart of gold.”
“Pretty sure those two things are mutually exclusive, Chels.”
“They’re like unicorns. Rare.”
“But magical.” I smile brightly.
She crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at me. “Go.”
I run the small distance to my desk and pick up my phone.
“I’m transferring you now, Mr. Bennett.”
“Thank you.”
I press the button and after I hear Hannah pick up, I stand and go over to shut her door.
“He had a sexy voice,” I singsong, passing by Chelsea’s office on the way to take another stab at making the coffee.
“A sexy tax attorney would be like discovering a real-life unicorn.” She follows me into the kitchen.
Monday mornings are laxer around here than I’m used to, but we all work hard and get done what needs doing.
I move about preparing the coffee pot and turning it on. “What happened to you experiencing all the flavors?”
She shrugs. “Let’s talk about you. Maybe someone like this Mr. Bennett is the one for you. You said he had a nice voice.” She crosses her arms, bringing her Starbucks cup to her lips.
“I’m anti-men, and honestly, who’s going to sign up for this train ride?”
“I would,” she says, her perfectly straight white teeth sparkling. “Seriously, though, you’re hot and gorgeous. A total MILF. Jade is easy-peasy. Your ex is thousands of miles away.”
“Sometimes there’s more baggage hidden than exposed.” I lean against the counter.
“I get wanting to take time to get settled, but don’t underestimate yourself. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Chelsea is rarely serious, so I smile and accept her compliment.
“I saw the best man from my wedding this morning.”
Her eyes widen. “Details.” She pulls out a chair, sets her cup on the small table, and props her chin in her hands.
“At first I didn’t recognize him. The last time I saw him was so long ago. He’s grown up a lot.”
She purses her lips. “Grown up how?”
“Chelsea,” I sigh.
She giggles. “What are you hiding? A hidden affair? A secret kiss?”
“No.”
“Come on. You’re blushing, and you keep fidgeting. What am I missing?” She narrows her eyes. “Was he an a-hole? My ex’s best man was a piece of shit.”
I shrug. “No, Reed was always respectful and nice.”
“Oh, gotcha. Booorrriinnnggg,” she draws it out and I can’t help but laugh.
“No, I mean he would joke around, was friendly, but I didn’t know him that well. Him and Pete had been good friends since they were younger. Went to college and then to law school together. When Pete and I were with him, it was like Pete only wanted to talk to him. Reed was always the one asking me questions trying to include me while I was trying to grab a little bit of Pete’s attention.”
“Is Pete gay? Is that why you divorced?” she deadpans.
“No,” I answer. “He’s heterosexual, just not monogamous.”
She nods. “Gotcha.”
I turn around to toss out the coffee filter now that it’s done brewing, busying myself to try not to think about my old life and all the feelings that get churned up when I do.
After a moment I still and release a loud sigh. “I thought I was over it,” I admit.
A chair slides along the floor behind me and I turn to face her. “You are.”
“Then why do I want to hammer Reed with a million questions and ask if he ever saw Pete cheat on me? What did Pete say about it? About Jade?”
She wraps her arm around my shoulders. “That’s just normal curiosity and if you ask me you’re more worried about what he thinks about you.”
My head snaps in her direction. “No, I’m not. The last thing I’d ever do is insert myself into someone’s life who knows Pete. Especially the man who witnessed me make the worse decision of my entire life when I said I do.”
“Hmm...”
“Hmm... nothing. It was awkward, he acknowledged me and then hopped in the car before I could say anything.”
“Is he hot?”
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Did you get that feeling?”
“What feeling?” I want to deny that I know what she’s talking about, but I do, and I haven’t experienced that in so long.
Her eyes flutter closed, and she inhales a deep breath. “Where you’re floating, and it’s like little fairies are hovering around his head.”
I laugh. “More like my stomach flipping and flopping and my mouth salivating like a Doberman in front of a steak.”
“Ugh, I’m jelly. I’m in a drought. Chicago has lost all its attractive men.” She walks over to the chair again and falls back into it.
“Come to school with me tomorrow and see for yourself,” I joke.
“I might have to take you up on that.”
“Okay, ladies, back to work.” Hannah knocks on the doorframe. “Chelsea come tell me about this new place we can hold the gala.”
Chelsea follows but turns around at the door. “Talk to him tomorrow.”
“No.”
She tilts her head. “I dare you.” Her nose crinkles like she’s testing to see if I’m in fourth grade and don’t want to look like a loser.