Chapter 10
Mia
Project Update
I look forward to every email from Otto, anxiously watching my Inbox for another one to arrive. The irritation I initially felt towards him has morphed into a crazy attraction that I can’t explain and didn’t expect. Rather than rationalize my feelings, maybe I just need to go with the flow and see where this leads.
Laughing after I read Otto’s latest email, my heart flips knowing that I’ll see him tomorrow. When did he get a pet goldfish?
~*~
My nerves are on edge and my palms sweat as I work the early morning shift at the bakery. I’ve dropped a breakfast cupcake, spilled a latte, and counted out incorrect change to an older gentleman who was quite miffed at my mistake.
“What’s up with you, Mia? You’ve got a bad case of fumble fingers and you’ve made more mistakes today than you’ve made in the last six months,” Emma asks after the initial rush is over. Her tone is teasing, but I’m sure she isn’t thrilled with my performance as an employee.
“I have a confession,” I whisper, even though there’s no one around to overhear.
Her eyes widen. “Come sit,” she says excitedly, while motioning to the first booth in the corner. “We’ll sit and chat until our next customer arrives.” She rubs her hands together in anticipation, leans towards me, and says, “Spill!”
Counting to ten, I jiggle my knee as I debate the wisdom of pouring my heart out to my roommate and boss. She’ll never let me live this down. When she throws me a stern look that books no resistance, I fold quicker than a poker player holding a single ace.
“I think I’m falling for Otto,” I utter. The tone of my voice is laced with a touch of embarrassment as I remember my overly confident announcement about how I would never, ever, ever, ever go out with him. Swifties would be appalled.
“What?!” Emma sputters, then holds her stomach as laughter erupts from her lips. “The man...you have...nothing...in common with?” she says between laughs. “The man...who asked...you...to go bowling as a first date?” Her voice cracks as a few tears leak from the corners of her eyes.
“I can’t explain it. One minute, I hate the guy and the next minute I’m hoping he’ll kiss me,” I reply in a puzzled voice.
The laughing stops. “Did he kiss you?” she shrieks.
“Shh! Keep your voice down. They probably heard you at the dry cleaners next door.” Mrs. Chen would love to overhear gossip like this. She’s a real busybody.
Emma snorts. “I can’t contain my volume. I’m in shock.”
“Join the club,” I say.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I repeat, my brain still not processing properly.
“Did he k-i-s-s you?” Emma says as if we’re spelling words around a two-year-old.
Frowning, I say, “No, but only because Miss Bettencourt interrupted us.”
“Who’s Miss Bettencourt?” Emma asks, her brows creasing.
I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. “Never mind! The point is, I’ve fallen for the last person on the planet I would have expected to feel anything other than irritation for. How does this happen?” I sigh and rest my chin in my hands, staring at my friend and boss, looking for advice.
A smile slowly tracks across her face as she reaches across the table and pats my hand. “It’s called love, and it happens when you least expect it.”
My heart rate kicks up a notch. Am I in love with Otto?! What am I going to do?
~*~
As I wait for Otto to arrive at the bakery, I’m in a tizzy as my grandmother would say. I feel like a spinster who has her first crush. I’m a grown woman and should be able to control my feelings better than this. Five minutes ago, I inspected myself and my outfit for the twelfth time, just to make sure everything is neat and in place.
Blouse tucked. Check.
Two buttons modestly open at the neckline. Check.
Hair neat and tidy in my bun. Check.
When Otto strides through the door, looking like a million bucks and making my heart flip, I have an irrational urge to flee back into the restroom to make sure I haven’t smeared my lipstick or lost an earring down the sink. Containing myself, I plaster on a smile and wave at him from a corner booth.
He slides into the booth directly across from me and I get a whiff of that manly fresh mountain air scent that I find oddly attractive. Irresistible, actually. His brown eyes capture mine and I hold my breath so as not to break the spell. The button-down shirt hugs him in all the right places and his khaki pants emphasize the powerful muscles in his thighs. I fight the sudden need to fan my face. Did it just get hotter in here?
“Where’s your laptop? Aren’t we going to review the project spreadsheet?” he asks.
My sensual fog dissipates faster than a pin pricking a balloon. Poof! This is what he leads with? Nothing about how terrific I look? Or maybe at least a mention of how delighted he is to see me?
A scowl slides across my lips before I can stop it. “Good morning to you, too,” I snipe, then reach in my bag, yank out my laptop, and set in on the table with a loud thunk!
Otto smirks as if he can read my mind. Despite my annoyance, he’s undeniably one hunk of a man, and my disloyal heart tries to beat itself out of my chest.
“I believe the proper address is Good Afternoon, considering it’s a few minutes past noon,” Otto offers in a non-helpful tone.
“Is that right?” I spout. “Shall we get started?”
He stands, comes around the booth, and slides in next to me. My eyes grow big as saucers and my heart beats even faster.
“Did you want me to do this?” he asks, then slowly leans in, inch by inch, his eyes locked on my lips. He rubs his thumbs gently across my cheeks and before he touches his lips to mine, he whispers, “May I kiss you and not get my face slapped?”
I nod an approval, as if in a trance. Nothing short of a hurricane or building fire could get me to budge. Whiplash from these mixed emotions makes me feel unbalanced. One second, I’m mad at him and the next I’m holding my breath waiting for him to kiss me...
“Yoo Whoo! Otto and Mia!” a high-pitched voice yells from the line in front of the bakery case. Otto stops a hair away from touching his lips to mine and pulls back. We both swivel sideways to see Dean Smith waving and grinning. “I’ll get my order and be right over!” she adds.
I feel my neck heat as a blush turns my cheeks a dark shade of crimson. Otto gives me a rueful look and returns to the other side of the booth. We need to lock ourselves in a broom closet so no one can interrupt our next kissing attempt. We’re now oh-for-two.
“You two look cozy,” Dean Smith says as she plops down beside Otto. “I bought some extra cupcakes if you want any,” she offers while placing a plate of the baked goods in the center of the table.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Otto says, reaching for one of Emma’s famous chocolate chip cupcakes. He takes a big bite. “These are delicious!” he mumbles. “You should take one, Mia.”
With the nervous state of my stomach, I don’t dare consume anything, especially sugar. “I’ve already had one,” I reply primly as I open my laptop and hide behind the screen until I get my emotions back in check.
Otto cocks an eyebrow but keeps chewing.
“It’s so lucky I bumped into both of you! Dean Hutchinson mentioned that you signed a contract for the Marriott Grand Marquis, but he didn’t know any details. Please give me an update.” Her eyes shine with excitement as she nibbles on a strawberry cupcake. Emma’s frosting attempts are just marginally better than mine. Obviously, we miss Bailey and her mad frosting skills.
Reading from my spreadsheet, I review which items we’ve completed. “The Marriott is going to be a terrific location. The grand ballroom’s commercial kitchen is well equipped and the caterer we selected is very familiar with the setup.” Otto’s eyes catch mine and I almost giggle as he mimics shoveling food in his mouth, but the dean is too busy consuming her cupcake to notice. Rolling my eyes, I continue. “The room is spacious enough for plenty of tables, a dance floor, and for displaying all the silent auction items.”
Otto coughs into his hand knowing that, as of right now, we have exactly three items to display, which could easily fit on a small side table.
“Sounds lovely. I saw an early draft of the flyer and invitations. They’re incredible!” she says. “Talk me through the theme, We All Play, and how you envision incorporating that into the room,” Dean Smith says.
I nod my chin towards Otto, indicating he should field this question.
“Mia and I haven’t had an opportunity to flesh out all the details, but I think we should display poster-size pictures of existing inclusive parks, so the attendees can see what they’re funding. The playground equipment isn’t cheap, and the park requires a special surface to accommodate wheelchairs,” Otto says. “We want to decorate the room using colors from the flyer and invitations.”
“The colors you chose are perfect! So playful and fun,” the dean chimes in.
“The Marriott has a selection of table linens in those same fun colors,” I add. “We can alternate the round eight-person tables in different colors.”
“Centerpieces could be simple floral arrangements using flowers to match our color scheme,” Otto adds.
“Not those tall arrangement you can’t look over, but shorter, compact ones,” I add remembering going to a fancy gala and not being able to see the other people sitting at your table.
“It sounds like everything is coming together nicely,” the dean exclaims, clapping her hands in approval. “When are the VIP invitations being sent?”
“Monday,” we say in unison.
“Jinx! You owe me a coffee,” Otto says, as we exchange grins.
Her mention of the VIP invitations reminds me of Otto’s comment about teaching Floyd the pigeon to deliver the VIP invites and I choke back laughter. Does he really own a pet pigeon?
“Looks like you not only have everything under control, but you both are working so well together. I’m witnessing your teamwork and collaboration in action,” she says, gesturing between Otto and me with a twinkle in her eyes. I blush, hoping she’s referring to how well we’re working on the project plan and not that almost kiss she witnessed. “To be honest, Dean Hutchinson thought you two would kill each other,” she confides. “But I just knew you’d find a way to work together!”
My blush deepens. The deans talked about Otto and me?
“Mia and I found inspiration from a mother and her wheelchair-bound daughter,” Otto adds.
“We did!” I say, gladly taking over the thread of conversation. For the next few minutes, I describe how we met Nora and Madison here and that Nora has agreed to act as a consultant on the project. She’ll be a huge asset in helping us research inclusive parks to use as examples for the photo display.
“Well, this is all very impressive,” Dean Smith says. “Please give Dean Hutchinson and me another update next week. And let us know if you need our assistance with anything in the meantime.” She stands and picks up the empty cupcake plate. “I’ll leave you two so you can work your magic together,” she says as she ambles off.
Otto chuckles. “She’s kind-of like a hurricane, isn’t she? Blowing in, then blowing out a few minutes later.”
I laugh. It turns out a hurricane did interrupt our almost kiss.
“Do you still have time to go through the spreadsheet?” I ask Otto as my project manager persona takes over.
“Sure, but I need something other than sugar to eat. Do you want to grab a sandwich while we talk?”