Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

10. Glasses

10

glasses

Selah

Manhattan, NY | October 3, 2023

I’ve been doing this whole immersion therapy experiment for the past month, and it’s been challenging. It wasn’t so bad last week, though my handsome neighbor had something to do with that. He wasn’t as annoying as I thought he’d be when he sat down. He was good company and calmed my nerves a lot. I breezed through the rest of my shift here, and the time flew by. I know he said he’d be back again today, but I won’t get my hopes up. He seems like a busy guy, and I can’t expect him to set aside time to sit with me in a cafe just because I have anxiety and it’s a Tuesday.

I’m sure he has better things to do.

I brought him up in therapy again this week. Dr. Garnett was intrigued, to say the least. Everyone keeps making a big deal about this guy. He’s just friendly and very attractive. Correction: he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life, but that doesn’t mean I should pursue him. He’s also my neighbor. Why doesn’t anyone else think it’s a bad idea?

I grab some tea and my headphones to set up my workspace in the cafe for the morning, queuing up a playlist for when my anxiety is high before logging on for the day. I remind myself this is temporary, and I just need to endure a few hours before I can return home. I’ve done this three times before today and can do it again. Eventually, it’ll get easier.

I carefully sip my hot tea and review my agenda for the day. As I sift through my morning to-dos and my music starts to calm me, I check the clock on the screen and consider that a lot can happen in a week. If he needed to bail or reschedule, it’s not like he had my number to give me a heads-up.

Should I have given him my number?

I tell myself it’s okay and that even my therapist would agree that it’s not healthy to get attached to someone to avoid expressing your emotions. I am fully capable of coping on my own and working here without having an anxiety attack, whether my neighbor shows up or not.

Twenty minutes pass and I accept he got busy or forgot. The more I think about it, the more I feel silly for suggesting this man should come and sit with me in the morning when he should be at work. He was already late last week, and I worry that he may have gotten in trouble for it even though he was all nonchalant like he owned the place.

What if he got fired?

What if he lost his job because he sat here with me?

Oh my God.

A shadow looms in front of my table. I peer up slowly, and it’s none other than Greyson. I bite my lip to prevent from grinning like an idiot, but he doesn’t.

“Excuse me, Miss? Are you expecting someone?” he asks.

He has his coffee and donuts just like last time, with a smile that doesn’t waver. Next thing I know, I’m smiling back.

“I am, actually.”

“What a shame. I guess I’ll have to share these donuts with another beautiful neighbor of mine.” He makes a show of looking around and frowns. “I’m afraid I don’t have any others and your date seems to have stood you up. I think we should save each other the embarrassment and sit together. What do you think?”

We stare each other down and I’m the first to break. His gaze is too intense for whatever is happening right now. I look down and cover my face with my hand.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teases.

I chuckle. “Fine. You can join me. You’re better looking than the guy I was expecting anyway. And I won’t tell Estelle you said you don’t have other beautiful neighbors.”

He makes a show of wiping his forehead and sits beside me.

“I owe you one for Estelle. She’d kick my ass.” He pauses and raises his brow. “So, I look better than the other guy? Good to know,” he adds with a wink. I quickly take a bite of a donut and hide my smile behind it.

“Are you unemployed?” I blurt and cover my mouth with the half-bitten donut.

So much for not embarrassing myself.

He gives a quizzical look, and says, “quite the opposite. Why would you ask?”

“I was worried you got in trouble for being late last week.”

He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms.

“You were worried about me? I didn’t get in trouble. I promise.”

I observe him when he’s not looking and quickly wave my mouse to make edits to my draft, finishing the donut with my free hand. I notice him moving, and I peer over to see him pull an oval case from his pocket and slip on a pair of black-framed glasses. I didn’t know it was possible for this man to look even more sexy but fuck.

I need a water hose to drink from right now since this tea just isn’t doing it for me.

I clear my throat to grab his attention.

“Would you excuse me for a moment? ”

He nods, and I practically fly out of my chair, quickly shuffling my feet toward the counter to get some ice water.

When the barista hands me the cup, I immediately thank her and resist the urge to dump it over my head and ask for a refill.

I take slow, deep breaths on the trip back to the table and when I pass Greyson, his scent hits me and I want to scream. I feel like I’m ovulating right now and it’s not a good time. I hate that I’m even considering this, but the crippling anxiety sounds a lot better than being aggressively horny in public.

I take my seat and sip my water so I don’t choke because that would be embarrassing. He points at my cup and tells me he would’ve taken care of it. I argue, of course, because that’s what I do. I’m taken aback when he assures me that if I need anything , I can call on him. I’d say he meant it in a literal sense when he pulls out his phone and suggests we exchange numbers but then repeats himself and puts extra emphasis on ‘ anything.’ I’m pretty sure I just felt my leg shake in response to that. I offer a shy smile and save his contact under Smell Good Man. Acts of service is my love language, and I think he should shut up.

He should shut up right now.

Shut up, Greyson.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he gets quiet and starts typing something on his phone. I take a break from my draft and send a quick message to my team via chat before I resume working. I open a message from Skye, my work bestie, and can’t help but chuckle. She sent a funny meme before Greyson joined me. She always knows when I could use a laugh, a snack, or a distraction. She lives in Houston, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. Black women need other Black women in their lives, especially in corporate America. If nobody here understands me, she does, and I couldn’t be more grateful for our friendship.

I send a laugh reaction and slyly inform her of who’s beside me. When I mentioned last week’s run-in, she was curious if we’d have another.

Me

GIRL.

You remember that neighbor I told you about?

Skye

The man who’s been reading romance novels to impress you?

I’ve been waiting on an update.

Me

That’s the one.

He just showed up at the cafe.

Skye

He came?? OOH.

Would you look at the time?

I gotta go, Charlotte! The exterminator is here!

While the girls call me Cobweb Queen, she calls me Charlotte for that same reason. I exhale a laugh. I swear if she ever met the book club, she’d fit right in. While I don’t love our regular off-site events for work, I will say being able to hang out with her in person is the best part.

Me

LOL I cannot stand you.

I close our chat and remember to add a few topics to the agenda for this afternoon’s meeting. Greyson’s been quiet, but he’s busy with something on his phone, so I won’t bother him. He looks really fucking good today and fighting the urge to stare is becoming unbearable. He’s wearing a black form-fitting turtleneck and his sinewy muscles have sidetracked me enough. I avert my eyes, but I fear he caught me when he breaks the silence.

“Do you have a ‘work husband?’”

I snort and shake my head. “Hell no.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No,” I respond with a head shake, purposely avoiding eye contact.

I wonder why he asked that.

I’m responding to a message from a teammate when I’m enveloped by his scent. A soft ‘hmm’ follows that sounds awfully close. I spy him peering at my screen.

“No sexy spreadsheets today?” he asks.

“What?”

“I’ve seen you do things to spreadsheets that make my pants tight.”

I burst out laughing.

“Sir, please.”

“Sir?” he asks in a gravelly tone and peers at me over his glasses.

I cannot take this.

He attempts another stare down with me, but he’s looking over those damn glasses and I won’t make it. I will try though. I fail again while smiling at his handsome face.

Once he wins the stare-down, he changes the subject, telling me how he had done some traveling recently and that he was able to get a lot of reading done while he was away. We discussed the books I recommended to him and what stood out. I love that he reads my book suggestions and unpacks his theories with me. I gave him two more recommendations to start on and warned him that they were spicier than what he’s been reading. To which he said, ‘Game on.’

I smile at my screen as I keep typing. I can feel him staring at me, and I don’t mind it. His gaze feels like the warm sun on my skin on a spring morning. I want nothing more than to bask in it. When I return his gaze, he doesn’t shy away. He studies my body language like his desire is to become fluent.

Just to make sure he’s really attentive, I grab a hair tie from my wrist and pull my curls back into a high ponytail. I resume working and wait for it. It doesn’t take long before he notices.

“The sunflower. What song inspired it?”

I bite my lip to hide my smile.

“Sunflower Vol. 6 by Harry Styles.”

I think back to what he said last week and I believe it now.

I’ll give them all my attention. Trust me.