Rick leans back a hair. “Brunch?”
I whip my head up, unable to control myself. “We are at work.” My jaw clenches. “I’m here to work, not to eat.” I inhale through my nose, trying to settle down. Exhaling, and in a softer tone, I say, “I already ate.”
“Why so upset?”
I smack a hand down on my desk, hard enough to make everyone around jolt, including Rick. “Because I just had a client rip me a new one on the phone about something out of my control, I’m behind on everything, and I don’t have time to talk to you right now.”
Rick shakes his head, mocking me. This is all some big game to him and he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” He stands there, clearly proud of himself for memorizing and recalling scripture.
My teeth grind. “Do not quote Philippians to me.” It is a little impressive that he came up with the verse that quick, but it’s equally annoying.
“Just turn your problems over to Him, Mary. Everything will be fine.” He smirks as he says it.
I sit there, halfway wanting to stab him with my pen, halfway wanting to laugh because this is all so absurd. He’s been following me around for over six months, reading Christian books, volunteering at my church. I don’t even want to know how he found out where I go, even though he pretended it was a huge coincidence. Why he does all this, I have no idea. Okay, I know why. He wants me to go on a date with him. I’ve tried to be nice. I even went to Decker’s wedding with him. I hung out with him three other times, all with work people around. At first, I thought he was serious about wanting to be involved at the church, know about my beliefs, but it’s really just some big con. I’m sure of it.
“Will you just stop with the act already?”
He leans away from me, and for once, his reaction looks genuine.
I’ve never really stood up to him. I try to be a nice person, but he’s just caught me on the wrong day and I’ve about had it with everyone. I should just go home and try to start over tomorrow, but I never miss a day of work. I’d feel even more guilty if I left work over this. It’s unacceptable. I try to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.
“What act?” He puts emphasis on the last word.
I look around and people are staring now. I’m such a jerk, but this man is just—relentless. I lower my voice, hoping nobody else can hear. “You know what act. The quoting scripture. The everything.” I wave a hand up and down at him. “This is not you. If it was you, it would be fine. But, it’s not.”
Without being able to stop himself, he immediately says, “I’m just a humble man, trying to walk in the footsteps—”
I roll my eyes and turn away from him. I pretend to look at my computer and scroll through some emails and ignore him.
“This is our first.”
I whip my head back, and there’s a smile spanning the width of his face.
What could he possibly be enjoying about this?
I do notice one thing, though. It’s a real smile. It’s the worst, because he’s so cute. No, he’s really hot and he knows it. I have no idea why he’s so fixated on me. There are a million women around here who are much prettier, stylish, and would jump in bed with him in an instant. He wouldn’t even have to try. I am not one of those women, at all. Truth be told, I’m pretty boring. I like my routines. I just do not understand this situation, but right now, it’s making my life difficult, and that’s a problem.
“What are you even talking about?” I glare at him. I don’t want to glare, but I do, because he’s so frustrating. “Why are you smiling about this?”
“Because this.” He wags a finger back and forth between us. “This is our first fight.” He stares off at the wall as if he’s soaking up the moment and logging it away in his memory. Then, he shakes his head, still grinning. “Had to happen sometime.” He locks eyes with me again. “We had a good run there for a while, Patrick. I think we nailed our first little spat, though, better than any of the other couples around here.”
I will kill him. “Do not say things like that around here. You know how bad the gossip is. We are not a couple.” I glance around the room to make sure nobody can hear him.
His eyes roll up to the ceiling. “No, we’re not.” His gaze lands back on mine, and for the first time today he actually looks serious. Dead serious. Piercing gaze, alpha-male serious.
It’s a smoldering stare, and despite my attempts to stop it, my whole body heats up when he does it.
“But we will be.”
Why does he have to say those kinds of things? And why am I sitting here speechless instead of telling him to go jump off a cliff? Why am I not telling him that it’s not happening, and it will never happen?
Because you secretly want it to happen. Because he’s overzealous when it comes to you and he’s gorgeous.
No, he’s not!
Before I can respond, Rick winks right at me, then turns around. Without looking back, he says, “See you at church tonight, Mary Patrick.”
I sit there, almost panting, chest heaving up and down after what he just said. I want to be disgusted, but I’m not. I know he saw every bit of my reaction too. It’s what he’s trained to do. He knows when he said, “but we will be,” that it got to me. Because it did. I’ve never had a man say anything like that to me before, and a pure shock of fear and excitement just passed through my body simultaneously, and the excitement won out. It definitely did, even though I will never admit that to him.
I glance around and, thankfully, don’t see any coworker’s eyeballs staring back at me.
This is getting ridiculous.
The church sanctuary is eerily quiet as I replay today’s events at the office over and over in my mind.
I spent all afternoon trying to get my mojo back after Rick and the jerk client ruined my morning. Rick made it worse. Why can’t I get him out of my head? And now, I’m going to see him here at church any minute. I swear, I am never rid of him, ever. He’s literally more omnipotent than God.
You don’t mind.
Yes, I do.
The man is a con artist and I’ll never fall for it. Maybe if he would just show me his true self once in a while, it would change things. I have zero clue who he is. He feels so fake and I can’t get past that. Still, I continue to be nice to him because he’s always been nice to me. The whole thing is just—weird.
Anyway, the dread creeps back up as I stroll up to the front of the sanctuary after spending most of the evening back in the office, Rick-free. It’s not even dread, really, as I take each step. It’s nerves. My stomach twists in a knot every time Rick is around, even if I don’t see him, I can feel his presence, and I have no idea why. I know he’s in the building, and the anticipation is killing me. Yeah, he’s cute. So what? Maybe he causes little flutters now and then when I see him. Who cares? He’s also a compulsive liar and blatant misogynist; when I’m not around, anyway. He’s never done it in front of me, but every single other woman I work with has told horror stories of his behavior.