Written by a Woman

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

ZAID

The smell of allspice and coriander filled the air of my parent’s suburban Irvine home, as well as the sound of laughing women. I winced, reminding myself that my mother’s kibba was waiting and would be worth the noise level before closing the door behind me. I bent over to untie and remove my shoes before I set my laptop bag down and entered the kitchen. Following the noise and smell, I found my family gathered around the island that was, as expected, already covered with food.

Food that I had missed out on helping prepare because eight-hour workdays were a distant dream at this point in my life.

“Bisbous!” my mother greeted me when she saw me enter the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” I spoke up just as my mother grabbed my face to pull it closer to hers. She planted kisses on both of my cheeks, making me feel more like a child than a thirty-four-year-old man.

“Don’t apologize for working as hard as you do. But before I forget,” my mother gave me wide, encouraging eyes as she clasped my hands and pulled me further into the kitchen where everyone else was standing, “I just saw another listing, just a couple streets over. You should look it up.” She grinned and turned around before I could crush her hopes yet again. I only lived about fifteen minutes away from my family home, closer to the office, and yet my mother still complained that it was too far away.

“The home is only about three times the size you need for yourself, and probably three times the cost of your condo,” my father chimed in, giving my mother a look that I had seen him give her many times throughout my life. The “he’s a grown man” look, the “he’s allowed to make these kinds of decisions for himself” look. My mother gave my father an innocent smile before getting back to dishing up plates.

“As long as I can keep your old room, I don’t care where you live,” my little sister, Raina, chimed in. She was washing her hands in the sink, eyeballing the plate of bread that sat in front of my father. Raina was about ten years younger than me, finishing up her art degree, and had turned my old room into a mini art studio as soon as I made the sudden decision to move out two years ago.

Like me, Raina was a mix of my mother and father. She had my mother’s sharp facial structure, and my father’s caramel-colored hair and hazel eyes. Whereas I had my father’s more masculine facial structure, and my mother’s dark brown hair and eyes.

“I’ll check it out, Mama,” I always did, just to keep up with how the housing market was doing. But everyone knew that I was comfortable in my condo, living on my own. Far enough away to where my family couldn’t show up unexpectedly all the time. Where I could unwind in the peace and quiet after a long day.

My mother was still adjusting to the idea of her son moving out without having started a family of my own first. My mother lived with her parents until she married my father, and my eldest sister Salma didn’t move out until she married her husband, Ben, a few years ago. Me moving out without so much as having a partner surprised her, even though I was thirty-two at the time and I felt like I was ready to be on my own.

“I see you timed your arrival perfectly,” Salma raised a dark eyebrow at me as she scraped a cutting board of vegetables onto a plate, an expression that mirrored my mother’s. Whereas Raina and I were mixes between our parents, Salma was practically the spitting image of our mother. They both had the same beauty mark on the right side of their lips, the same sharp bone structure, with dark hair and eyes. She was even the same height as my mother, and they had often been mistaken as sisters out in public.

“How do you mean?” I avoided her gaze as I snagged the piece of bread Raina was about to take, grinning at the annoyed huff she gave me at having to pick a new slice.

“We’re just finishing up, we were considering keeping all the food in the oven to keep it warm until you finally managed to arrive,” Salma gave me a teasing smile, but her words made my stomach churn with a small tinge of guilt. It wasn’t like I enjoyed being late to dinner most of the time.

“Yeah, Zaid,” Raina added, taking a bite of her bread and walking over to swing an arm around Salma’s shoulders, “How do you feel about eating food that a pregnant woman slaved over all evening?” Raina used the bread in her hand to gesture to Salma’s rounded belly, who responded by rolling her eyes and pushing a giggling Raina off of her.

“For the record,” my father raised his glass and grinned before taking a sip of his wine, “I told Salma to sit down and relax an hour ago, and what was your response?”

Salma smirked and replied, “Pregnant women are perfectly capable of helping cook dinner if they want.”

“There it is,” I took a seat next to my father, smiling, as my mother set plates of food in front of us, “Thanks, Mama,” before she shooed Salma into her seat while she prepared the rest of the plates. I glanced at the other wine glass to the side of her, and asked, “Where is Ben?”

“He’s laying Zeki down,” Salma replied, scooting her husband’s wine glass closer to her plate to make room for Raina and my mother to sit around the kitchen island as well. Whereas my sisters and I took after our mother, who didn’t bother with alcohol, my father and brother-in-law often enjoyed a glass of wine with dinner. My father was Italian and owned his own restaurant on the other side of town, but my mother never made us feel like we weren’t allowed to drink with him.

Similar to how my mother chose not to wear a hijab or raise my sisters with the expectation to wear one.

I glanced behind us towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms, remembering that Ben was still laying their three-year-old down, and feeling bummed that the little guy and I couldn’t watch a couple of episodes of his favorite superhero cartoons before bedtime.

“Where’s Tariq?” I asked as we all sat and waited for Ben to join us before digging in.

“He could only stay for a little bit tonight,” Raina replied, “He tried to wait as long as he could, but he’s pretty swamped with the summer term.” Raina met her boyfriend at her art school, and I was the only one in the family who hadn’t officially met him yet. She wasn’t in the habit of dating, let alone dating seriously, so when she told everyone that she had a steady, long-term boyfriend, we all were dying to meet the guy who convinced Raina to give him the time of day.

“Ah,” I nodded in understanding, “Hopefully I can catch him next time.” I felt my shoulders slump, a movement my father clocked by patting me on the back.

“You’re just in a busy season of life,” my father spoke, “It’ll pay off in the long run.”

I nodded, appreciating his words of encouragement.

“Sorry, sorry,” we all turned toward my brother-in-law’s voice, which sounded out of breath, echoing down the stairs along with his heavy footfalls, “Little stinker needed a lot of convincing.”

“But he’s asleep?” Salma asked her husband as he took the empty seat next to her.

“I believe so,” he smiled at everyone and took a quick sip of his wine, relaxing in his chair before leaning around my sister to meet my eye, “Glad you made it.” His blonde hair looked disheveled as if my nephew had tugged on it several times, and I noticed the dark circles of sleep-deprived parenthood lingering under his bright blue eyes.

“Thanks,” I nodded.

“ Finally , we can eat,” Raina sighed, earning a tut from our mother in disapproval. Raina ignored our mother and scooped a large forkful of food into her mouth, letting out a satisfied groan as she chewed our mother’s homemade cooking.

My father laughed at the youngest Ansara child, and soon we were all digging in.

After a few minutes of mild chit-chat about our week, how delicious the food was, and thanking my mother again for cooking (because while she was married to a professional chef, my father still enjoyed my mother’s homemade Syrian meals more often than not), I saw my mother prepare herself for her upcoming question with a quick dab to her lips with her napkin.

As soon as her dark eyes landed on me, I prepared myself.

“Now that you’re the only one who is single here, have you considered putting yourself back out there again?” I tilted my head at my mother, raising my eyebrows in a way to let her know that she should already know the answer to that question.

“If I’m barely able to make it to family dinner on time,” I replied, mindlessly dragging my food around on my plate with my fork, “I don’t see how I could possibly fit in time to date anyone,” not that I was against the idea at all. Finding a life partner was definitely something I was interested in, but…logistics. I took another bite and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before adding, “The only people I interact with all day are coworkers.”

At my words, Raina and Salma both lifted their heads to exchange a look with each other, and I felt something spike in my nerves at the secretive glance they gave each other. I would have missed it if I hadn’t happened to look over at them myself.

“Have you brought up the idea of you stepping down again?” Ben asked, his eyes on his plate as he scooped another bite.

“I’m working on it,” I nodded, “I even found some people that I thought would be a good replacement for me. I forwarded the names to Brandon earlier today.” I had been sitting at my desk, after receiving the email that held the link to yet another investors meeting. A meeting that I loathed taking part of, because I found myself dissociating throughout them out of pure, mind-numbing, boredom. But that wasn’t what made me pause at reading the email. No, what made me pause when I accepted the invite link was how used to these meetings I had become. How I didn’t even tense or cringe at the thought of attending another. Instead, I was used to attending these meetings. These meetings were just a regular part of my work routine, and I had a moment where I realized how much I hated it.

So instead of carving out time to iron out the talking points I was expected to discuss during the meeting, I took an hour researching possible candidates for Chief Technology Officer on my own. I figured that I wanted to be involved with whoever replaced me anyway, to ensure that they were qualified and a good fit for the role.

Once I had several options listed, I checked Brandon’s schedule to see if he would have time in the next couple of days to discuss my replacement options.

However, it looked like his calendar was completely packed, so I opted to just forward him the email with the subject line “Zaid’s replacement” to hopefully catch his attention.

I understood the need for me to step into the role of CTO two years ago, how we wanted to look like an established company that people would be comfortable investing their money in. But we had just received a significant round of Series A funding, which meant that now the company was stabilized and prepared for growth for the time being, it also felt like a good time to hire someone prepared to be CTO long-term.

That way, I could go back to getting my hands dirty in the code I had personally written.

As much as I appreciated the monetary benefits of holding a title like Chief Technology Officer, I missed doing what I loved even more.

“Hopefully they can find someone to relieve you soon enough,” my father nodded, “Though I don’t mind when you decide to take your fancy meetings at my restaurant, either.”

I grinned, “I’d much rather go to your restaurant to enjoy myself, not to schmooze people for money.”

My father laughed, nodding in agreement.

“And then you can have time to open that kind heart of yours to love,” my mother nodded once to herself, making Ben huff a laugh under his breath at my mother’s desperation to see her only son happy with someone. I turned to give my brother-in-law a traitorous look but instead got distracted by seeing Raina and Salma exchange yet another glance between the two of them.

Something was up with them, and when Raina lifted her eyes to meet mine after having what looked like a telepathic conversation with Salma, she snickered to herself and shook her head before focusing back on her food.

Excellent, so their secrecy had something to do with me.

I didn’t love that.

“Maybe,” I replied to my mother before the conversation turned to what projects Raina was working on at school. The rest of the dinner went on uneventfully. My father squeezed my mother’s hand to thank her and started to gather our dishes to wash. As my father left with our plates in his hands, I leaned back in my chair to catch Ben’s attention behind Salma’s back.

Do you know what that’s about? I mouthed the words to him in a low whisper while my mother and Salma were distracted by their conversation.

Ben blinked his wide blue eyes at me, chewing his bite some more before swallowing and mouthing back, yes, but and then he zipped his lips closed with his pinched fingers.

I huffed and mouthed, Because of your wife?

“Of course,” he replied at a normal volume, lifting one last bite to his mouth before gathering his own plate to follow my father to the sink.

Noticing the conversation happening behind her back, my sister whipped her head towards her husband, hissing between her teeth, “Did you tell—”

“No, my love,” Ben shook his head and gently patted her shoulder, before standing and retreating.

“Good,” Salma gave her husband’s back a warning look, making him smirk at her over his shoulder and then at me before standing next to my father at the sink and grabbing a dish towel to dry the dishes.

I felt my heart start to race with nerves. My sisters were sneaky, and clearly acting suspicious tonight. I didn’t want to overthink anything, but the fact that Ben was sworn to secrecy about whatever they were up to didn’t bode well for me.

Finally, after chatting and laughing and wishing everyone a good night, I decided to excuse myself early to go home and sleep. It had been a long day, and I was desperate for at least a full night’s rest without my phone blowing up with another issue that someone needed my immediate input on.

I embraced my mother and father before tying my shoes back on and shouldering my laptop bag, ready to sneak out the door just as my mother shoved containers of leftovers in my hands for me to take home.

“I’ll help him carry those out,” Raina chimed in, tugging the leftovers out of my hands, and elbowing her way out the door in front of me. I threw a curious look at Ben, who was now chatting with our father but gave me a subtle grin as he nursed the same glass of wine he had earlier with dinner.

“Oh, don’t forget the bread,” Salma added, following the youngest sibling out of the doorway, and leaving me in her dust. I released a tired sigh and followed them to my car, shutting my parents and Ben in the house behind me.

“What’s going on?” I asked as my sisters carelessly tossed the leftovers into the passenger seat of my Model X. Thank goodness my mother bought quality Tupperware, otherwise, my car would be a mess now.

“Do you know a woman named Sig-nee?”

I halted in my step, freezing almost entirely as my sisters now stood tall with crossed arms and narrowed eyebrows. My gaze bounced between both of their suspicious ones and before I could think better of it, I felt my nerves start to get the best of me.

One mention of that woman, and my body immediately tried to betray me.

I found myself standing stock still, instead of relying on my go-to tells that involved clearing my throat and straightening the collar or cuffs of my shirt. Instead, I didn’t move a muscle as I hoped that neither of them could see my face and ears heating up under the dim light of the streetlamp. Both of them studied me, waiting for me to give them something.

“Um,” I cleared my throat once more, “She works at my company. Why?”

My sisters exchanged another look between themselves, one that made me almost groan with humiliation.

How did my sisters find out about Signe Lange?

More importantly, how in the fuck did my sisters find out about my wildly inappropriate attraction to the office manager?

“So you know, then?” Salma asked, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and leaning against my car. She didn’t look comfortable, but I assumed it was difficult to find a comfortable position when you were seven months pregnant.

“Know what?” I asked. No way in hell was I giving anything away before they revealed their hand.

“About her book?”

I stared at them.

Raina blinked at me.

Salma started typing away on her phone.

“What book?” Maybe my sisters didn’t know about my…thoughts on Signe after all.

“Sig-nee’s book. Well, I guess it’s not a book yet.” Salma looked up at me then, holding her phone a little closer to her chest as she appraised me.

I shook my head once before tossing my sister a bone by demonstrating the correct pronunciation, “Signe has a book?”

Raina narrowed her eyes at me, mirroring Salma’s pose and leaning against my car, “So you don’t know.”

I shrugged my shoulders before shoving my fists in the pockets of my slacks, “Know what?”

Salma raised both of her eyebrows before tentatively stepping toward me and holding her phone out, “I want to discuss how to properly say her name in further detail, but that’s not important at the moment. Did you know that she wrote a book about you?”

I felt my heart stop before it suddenly took off again.

“What?” I couldn’t keep my mouth from falling open at her words.

“I’m actually kind of pissed at her,” Salma explained, turning her phone screen towards me as she spoke, “I was so into this story. I loved the characters, but then she had to ruin it by revealing that my baby brother is the male lead.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I took her phone and looked at the feed she had pulled up. It was a social media feed, and in the search bar was Signe’s name as well as someone named Zayne.

There were dozens of images of Signe.

I tried not to focus on her picture too hard. It was the same reason I didn’t stare at her too long at work. She took my breath away. She was a beautiful woman, with dark red hair, pale skin, and clear green eyes. Her smile was bright and wide and showed all her teeth, and her energy was contagious. I rubbed a hand over my mouth to stop myself from smiling at her picture in front of my sisters and instead tried to infer what they were talking about based on the images I was looking at.

After a few silent seconds, I gave them both a confused look.

“Here,” Raina leaned over on my right, while Salma stood to my left, all three of us looking at Salma’s phone, “This one.” Raina tapped on an image, and a video started playing.

I huffed a laugh at the video, something my sisters gave me curious looks over as I realized that the scene looked familiar.

I was on my way to the break room when I heard Signe’s voice echoing in the empty building. I had paused before I entered the break room because I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t interrupting a private conversation before I refilled my coffee mug for the last time that day. After a few seconds of eavesdropping, I realized that Signe wasn’t on a call with anyone, but instead, she was doing what must have been a livestream on the internet.

I didn’t spend a lot of time on social media. I scrolled threads occasionally when I was curious about the topics that piqued my interest, but my own accounts were private and didn’t have more than family members following me.

Filming or taking pictures of personal content at Sun Steer went against company policy, and while Signe didn’t sound like she was posting anything problematic about the company, I still took the opportunity to mess with her by walking into the break room in the middle of her video.

I wondered if she would tell me what she was up to, but it looked like she ended the stream immediately after I had walked in. After playing a one-sided game of chicken with her, I decided to do my job and remind her of the company policy regarding social media.

I hadn’t ever seen Signe stammer or struggle with words before, and I relished the feeling of seeing her tongue-tied in front of me, while also wanting to ease her concerns so she was back to her friendly, bubbly self.

It was immature of me to mess with her like that, but I’d had a long day, and it was entertaining. So no, I wasn’t too surprised to see screenshots of myself waltzing through her video looking clueless. Technically, that was by design.

What I was surprised to see, however, were the comments that were left on the video and screenshots of the stream. The fact that this many people took screenshots and screen recordings of the stream wouldn’t cross my mind until later. At the moment, I was just struggling to put pieces of a puzzle together.

WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?????!!!

Is that THE ZAYNE I SAW?!

Omg he’s so hot.

Doth my eyes deceive me, or did Zayne just casually walk through her stream?

SIGNE IS THAT ZAYNE!!!!!

Zayne is real?!

I’d let that man step on me and thank him for it.

“I…” I blinked a couple of times before adjusting my glasses and focusing back on the screen, “What is happening?”

“Signe wrote a novel about you,” Raina explained, keeping her voice low so our family inside the house wouldn’t hear, “A romance novel.”

A blush immediately burned my face, my skin suddenly felt too tight and too hot. I lifted my free hand to cover my mouth in an attempt to look like I was mindlessly rubbing my jaw, but mostly because I didn’t want my sisters to see the heat darkening the color of my cheeks and ears.

“Oh…” I couldn’t gather any other words than that.

“ Oh, is right,” Raina kept showing me more pictures, comments, and tags, but everything was starting to blur while my mind spun.

“I was following this story so religiously,” Salma whined, “When I heard that she got picked up by an agent, I screamed. You can ask Ben.”

“Agent?” I asked. I don’t know why that word stuck out to me the most, but it did.

“Yeah, for her books,” Raina explained, “Sig-yuh is a romance author. She just recently got picked up by an agent and she’s going to try to publish her story.”

“And she will,” Salma nodded, “I do not doubt it. The fact that she has this many followers from this one storyline of hers is telling.”

I felt the pinch in my brows deepen as I tapped on what looked to be Signe’s account, @ReadHeadedWriter, and saw that she had almost twenty thousand followers. Twenty thousand . Her account was public, and when I scrolled through her feed, I realized that this account must have been relatively new.

And she already had that many followers.

“So…she writes romance…” I was struggling to form words still. Raina nodded her head encouragingly at me, reaching her hand over to tap on a cartoon illustration that Signe had been tagged in.

It was me.

I mean, it wasn’t. It was a cartoon.

But it was me.

Glasses, hair, beard, button-down shirt, physique. When I noticed two specific veins on the cartoon’s forearms, I resisted the urge to roll up my sleeve to see if it was truly the same as mine. The cartoon-woman that cartoon-me stood next to was seemingly random. Some small brunette woman who sparked no familiar faces in my memory.

“I hate that I didn’t see it before,” Raina spoke up, “I get the ick looking at the fan art now.”

“This is fan art?” Why did my voice sound so raspy?

“Yeah, that’s how big this story is in the online romance readers groups,” Salma explained, “She started posting chapters online, as like a free fanfic kind of thing. Then, readers blew it up. That’s how her agent found her and reached out to work with her. But now that she’s signed, she’s writing a full-on manuscript. It’s going to be a physical book you can buy at bookstores and stuff.”

I had no words.

Signe Lange, the woman who starred in an embarrassing number of my late-night fantasies, wrote a romance novel about me .

My brain felt like it was short-circuiting.

“…So…” I cleared my throat for what felt like the thousandth time, “How do we know for sure it’s me?”

The imagery was telling, but it could all be a coincidence.

It could be any other Arab-looking man.

“All the comments during her live feed tonight, for one,” Raina pointed out, tugging the phone from my hands, and handing it back to Salma. Her hazel eyes narrowed at me as one eyebrow of hers arched, “And the guilty look on her face as she read the comments.”

The last image I saw on my sister’s phone was of Signe’s face near the end of the stream, which had a beautiful blush on it.

“She ended the livestream as soon as people started asking if you were Zayne,” Salma explained, as she tucked her phone into the back pocket of her leggings, “Which makes her look guilty. Since then, everyone has been sharing screenshots of your blurry face and Zayne fan art, and ugh .” Salma made a face that looked like she was about to throw up, “I have very mixed feelings reading a romance novel with a character whose looks are inspired by my brother.”

I reached a hand up to rub my forehead.

Signe, the office manager, was currently writing a romance novel.

A romance novel that starred me, for some reason.

As far as I knew, Signe had never once shown a romantic interest in me. Not that there had been any opportunities for her to do so. I usually avoided her because of my inappropriate crush. That, and office relationships were generally frowned upon, and my status as CTO would make any hypothetical relationship dynamic problematic. Workplace attraction happened, so I had heard, and I figured the attraction between us had been one-sided. I had never considered, not even once, that Signe—

“This sucks,” Raina spoke up, making me tune back into my sisters’ discussion.

“I know, part of me hates that we won’t get to read the rest of Zayne and Sydney’s story.” Salma sighed.

I shook my head in confusion at her words, “Why is that?”

They both gave me pointed looks before Salma explained, “Because you’ll have to fire her. Then she will probably have to scrap the project because of how…unprofessional it is.”

I snapped my mouth closed, thinking about that for half a second before blurting out, “Why?”

They both raised their eyebrows at me, making me feel ganged up on.

“Because your employee is writing a romance about you without your consent? Filming content for it on company property?” Raina asked, as if the question was rhetorical, “Because she’s been posting about how she wants to quit her office job and be a writer full-time, and the one shot she had at achieving that dream, she decided to cross professional boundaries?”

All thoughts in my brain came to a halt.

“Wait,” I held a hand up as I rubbed both of my temples with my fingertips, “Signe wants to quit?”

“That’s the part that you—” Salma blinked, and even I could tell that something clicked in her brain at that moment before she asked, “You are going to fire her, right?”

I hesitated, before irritation with my sister’s meddling took over, “Why do I need to do that?”

Signe wanted to quit. She didn’t want to work at Sun Steer anymore. It made sense, it wasn’t like her position offered a lot of room for growth. But she had been so happy and upbeat there. I had no idea that she wanted to quit. That she was looking for a reason to.

I ignored my sister’s staring and thought about it some more.

If I had stumbled into Signe Lange on the street, outside of the office, would I have tried to talk to her? To get to know her?

Yes.

Absolutely, how could I not?

That question didn’t require a lot of further thought.

Would I have wanted to ask her out after getting to know her?

Also, yes.

I wanted to ask her to dinner currently, and that was just based on professionally interacting with her at the office for the past year, but I couldn’t. Because I was her superior, and the ethics of the situation made it obvious where that line was.

Raina started talking again, but I held a hand up as I stared at my car behind my two sisters. She stopped talking, and I could feel both of their stares impatiently waiting for me to gather my thoughts.

But…if Signe wanted to quit, then she would no longer be my employee…

“I could fire her…” I mumbled, making Raina’s eyebrows shoot up with surprise.

“Or…?” She pressed, because, clearly, I was trying to think through some other options.

“…Or, I could just wait for her to quit.” I felt my lips turn up a little at the thought and before my hand could block the movement, my sisters practically jumped on me.

“What?” Salma gasped.

“Why?” Raina grabbed one of my arms, and I quickly shrugged her off before gently walking around the two women and making my way towards my car.

“Thank you for the intel,” I waved a hand dismissively at them as I opened the door and made my way into the car.

“Intel?” Salma asked, waddling over to the car, and placing a hand on the hood as I shut my door. I rolled the window down so that I could hear her talk because clearly, she wasn’t ready to let me go yet, “Intel for what? This isn’t a problem for you?”

Weirdly, no.

I knew it should. Logically, I knew that part of me should be disturbed that my employee was writing a romance novel with a man based on what I looked like. However, that wasn’t what I focused on.

Instead, I felt flattered.

I guessed it was true what they said, how attraction really did determine if someone’s actions were considered unsettling or endearing.

“I’ll keep you posted.” I waved to my sisters before rolling up my car window. Salma took the hint and released her hold on the hood, stepping back with Raina as the two stared at me with wide eyes as I drove off.

My blood was rushing in my veins.

It was an indescribable high I had, knowing that I was the inspiration for Signe’s project. A romance novel.

I had originally intended to get as much sleep as possible that night, but now I had other plans. Plans that included scouring the internet for every word that Signe Lange had typed. If this is what she did outside of work, I was desperate for every crumb. Every detail. What made her choose me? Was it entirely my physique? Was it the way I held myself in the office?

I felt my face heat again at the thought of her observing me in such a way.

I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I did get a thrill knowing that that woman appreciated what she saw. I wasn’t flashy like other men, though I liked to wear nice clothing, thanks to my sister’s encouragement. I wasn’t out every weekend trying to get laid. As far as I knew, I didn’t have a natural charisma that drew women in. I was more reserved and dedicated to work as of late. Envious of the partnerships that my sisters had found and the family that Salma was creating.

But this knowledge my sisters gave me changed some things. Within the span of one evening, brushing off my attraction to the office manager as pointless was no longer necessary. Especially if Signe wanted to eventually quit her job at Sun Steer to pursue her own goals, anyway. Now, I felt like I just needed to be patient, spend this time getting to know her better, and maybe work on putting myself out there without making her suspicious that I knew her little secret.

I imagined what it would be like to have Signe truly reciprocate my attraction, to earn those flirty little looks she gave everyone who passed her desk at the office. To earn her wide smiles outside of work, to spend one-on-one time with her. To see little pieces of her glowing personality for myself.

To finally, possibly, know for myself what those tempting lips of hers taste like.

As I turned into my condominium and parked my car, I sat in thought about my mother’s pressing questions at dinner tonight. How I wanted to eventually settle down.

I was pretty sure that I wanted kids if my future wife happened to want the same.

What did Signe want?

It was too soon to know, or even ask, but I still wanted to find out one way or another. Even if she didn’t seem like a kid person, I didn’t think that mattered to me as much as just having a chance with her. This new perspective of Signe lit a fire under my ass, feeling motivated to try. To not try to distance myself from her as much as possible, but to even return the attention she was willing to give me.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep as much that night as I had originally planned.