Page 14 of The Attack Zone
Great.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. Well, I love my friends and I put up with Mitch. But I don’t love not being prepared. I hate surprises. Surprises are how mistakeshappen, and I like to keep my life as mistake-free as possible. So when they all come bounding into my office like a pack of hysterical hyenas, I paste a false smile on my face and try to act thrilled to see everyone.
“Helloooo,” says Thomas as they enter.
It’s followed by several different variations ofhey,hello, andwhat’s up.
“Hello, love.” Mitch’s voice is deep, almost like molten dark chocolate as he stands tentatively in the doorway. “I hope you don’t mind we all tagged along to help.”
“Of course not,” I lie. “Everyone take a seat.”
They all find various places to perch in my small office and stare at me expectantly.
“Right,” I start. “I guess I’ll just dive in with an update then.”
I go on to share how Caleb’s gala is building, important RSVPs, and a fundraising update. We’re close to our goal but we could use a few more RSVPs to fill the room. Caleb’s grimace tells me he doesn’t want to do more personal outreach than I’ve already forced upon him, which I understand. Reaching out to people isn’t really his strong suit.
Now it’s time to do what I do best: reassure, placate, and support. I reassure Cassie that we’ll meet our fundraising goal. I placate Caleb’s concerns about the overwhelming size of the guest list. I (begrudgingly) support Mitch’s recommendation that we push the silent auction items he and the rest of the team donated a bit more to try to build up some buzz.
When all is said and done, I’ve somehow managed to pull together this somewhat random group of people and get them organized and ready for something none of them other than Mitch has much experience with. I love my job because I genuinely think the world is worth making a better place, and I love getting to work with people like Caleb who share that vision, even if he is a bit green.
“Have you had lunch?” Caleb asks as we’re wrapping up. “We were thinking of grabbing a bite all together. Unless you’re too busy. I know how busy you are.”
I’m not too busy to get lunch with my friends though. I’m never too busy for that.
Right?
Based on the expressions on my friend’s faces, I think maybe they’d disagree with that statement.
“Of course I have time. I’d love to,” I say.
Once they’ve all turned to make their way out the door, I glance at my calendar on my phone. I was definitely planning to work through lunchtime, but I’ll figure it out. It might complicate my day, but I don’t want to be seen as an absent friend.
We have to wait for a table since we’re such a big group. I try to ignore the nagging feeling I get that I should be working. This is the right thing to do, and I deserve to not eat lunch hunched over my laptop every once in a while. I already work long hours and weekends. I don’t think it’s much to ask.
When we finally get seated, the host takes us to a giant booth. What is with this town’s aversion to tables? Everyone files in one by one until there’s one small spot next to Mitch. He pats the seat next to him with a dopey smile on his face.
“I told you I don’t bite,” he says.
That’s a shame, I think.
Excuse me?! What am I doing thinking things like that about Mitch Greggs when I’m actually in his presence?
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Ugh. I really need to get laid.
“I promise,” he says because I’m still standing here staring at him while my brain apparently short circuits.
“Right, of course,” I say.
I take the seat next to him, but because I have actualcurves, I either have to paste myself to his side or risk falling right out of the booth and onto the floor. Again.
Excellent.
At least I know he hates this as much as I do, because he immediately goes stiff the moment I shrug myself against his side. I turn my attention away from him for fear I might combust.