Chapter 23
When Willow got off the elevator and entered the operations department on Monday morning, the bullpen was already buzzing with phones ringing and keyboards clacking.
Willow weaved her way through the maze of desks until she got to her own. She hadn’t even set down her purse or turned on her computer yet when a crown of silver hair popped up over the low divider.
“Well?” Barb drawled. “How did the date go?”
“Practice date.” Willow dropped onto her chair and directed a slightly exaggerated beaming smile at her colleague. “Good morning to you too, Barb! I hope your last week at Kudos is off to a good start.”
“It would be if my protégé didn’t leave me in suspense,” Barb muttered. “Come on; tell me how it went.”
Willow shoved her purse beneath her desk. “There’s not much to tell. We never even made it to brunch.”
Barb’s eyes went wide. “Ooh! You skipped brunch and went straight to dessert?” She bounced her silver eyebrows suggestively.
“Barbara Peisner!” Willow’s cheeks burned. She glanced around to see if anyone had overheard Barb’s insinuation.
Luckily, Celeste was nowhere to be seen, and their co-workers were busy at their desks. No one seemed to be listening in on their conversation.
Exhaling, Willow turned back toward Barb. “Nothing like that. Her car didn’t start, so we got stuck for a while, waiting for AAA, and didn’t make it back to the city in time. We ended up having PBJ fries instead of brunch.”
“PBJ fries?” Barb repeated as if Willow had confessed to dipping sardines into caramel sauce.
Crap. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Don’t judge them till you’ve tried them. They’re amazingly good.”
“That might be, but they are not what we would have called a romantic meal in my day.” Barb shook her head. “Clearly, Scottie needs to knock a lot more rust off if that’s her idea of romancing a woman.”
Willow opened her mouth to defend Scottie, but Barb didn’t give her a chance. She kept talking.
“Which means”—Barb paused like a magician about to pull a rabbit from her top hat—“you two need a second practice date!”
“No,” Willow said firmly. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Barb asked, innocence personified.
Willow waved her hand. “Well, for one thing, Thanksgiving is this week, and then I’ll be taking over for you. We’re both busy.”
But Barb didn’t seem convinced. “So go out once you’ve recovered from the turkey coma and you’ve made it through your first week without me. December is the perfect time for romance.”
Willow picked up a pen and fiddled with it. “I’m not looking for romance.”
“I’m not asking you to marry her. Just go on a second date and have some fun.”
Willow hesitated. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine spending another day around Scottie and her easy, calm energy. Admittedly, she didn’t hate the idea—quite the opposite.
She had kept people at arm’s length for so long. She had always told herself she was better off by herself, never letting herself think about all the things she was missing—friendship, companionship…love.
But Saturday had cracked something open, and now she had a hard time closing that door again.
The loneliness she’d suppressed for years began to bubble up.
She had spent the rest of the weekend bustling around the house, cleaning out the fridge and doing her sister’s laundry, just for something to do while Fiona was out with friends.
For the first time ever, the silence had bothered her.
“Come on,” Barb said. “This is my last week. Three days and I’m outta here, sipping pina coladas at the cruise ship bar. Do you really want our last hours together to be tense because we’re arguing over your refusal to go on a second date?”
No, of course Willow didn’t want that. Barb had trained her well and had been her champion during her first two months at Kudos. “You’re fighting dirty.”
“One of my many skills,” Barb said with a grin. “So?”
Willow sighed. “Fine.”
Barb lit up like a Christmas tree. “Fine?”
“Fine,” Willow repeated. “That is…provided Scottie wants to go on a second date…practice date with me. It’s not just up to me, you know? Maybe Scottie doesn’t want a second trial run. Maybe she feels she’s knocked off enough rust and would rather go on a real date with someone else.”
“So ask her,” Barb said as if that were the simplest thing in the world.
“I will.”
When Barb’s head disappeared behind the divider, Willow slumped against the back of her office chair and stared at her still-dark screen. The black rectangle showed a wide-eyed reflection of herself.
Ask her. Barb’s words echoed through her mind. Barb had said it casually, as if it were as easy as picking up a carton of milk on her way home. But for Willow, it was anything but.
Oh God. What had she just agreed to? Her pulse thudded in her ears, and her stomach rotated like a carousel at the thought of asking Scottie out.
Her nervous system didn’t seem to get that it was only a practice date.
“Oh crap,” she whispered. She got up to make herself some tea. She knew better than to turn on her computer right now, when she was this out of sorts.
It would probably crash before she could even open her email, and having to call IT was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.