Page 32 of So Not My Type
“Coffee, please.”
The SUV eased over and Thomas jumped out to open her door. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop and snugged her laptop case higher. “Want me to grab you something?”
“Not today. One more cookie and my pants won’t fit. The wifey is going to trade me in for a younger model.”
Ella rolled her eyes. Thomas was the fittest older man she’d ever seen. Sure, he was a driver for her family. But deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion he was some sort of government operative with John Wick-style fighting skills. “I’m going to walk to the office from here.”
“You sure? Fourth day in a row. I’m thinking I’m an embarrassment for you.”
His voice carried a smile, but she didn’t want to tell him that he was right. “Never.” She waved goodbye, knowing damn well he’d wait until she made the trek into the office building before he took off.
Thomas’s presencewasembarrassing, but that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want him to drop her off. The quick jaunt to the café, waiting solo in line for coffee, and the walk to work was fuel for her dream of a new life. All week, she’d marched the sidewalk like other workers, juggling a mug, pastry, and cell phone, and felt connected to people in a way that had been missing for so long. She was part of an invisible commuter community, a fellow worker amid the daily grind. She tipped her chin at people she passed, or partook in the standard Seattle greeting—a flicker of eye contact to make sure she didn’t run into them and then completely ignoring the passerby. Finally, slowly, she felt like she belonged.
Ella stuffed a stopper into the hot drink, bit into a chunk of chocolate hazelnut croissant, and made her way to the office. As she passed, she grinned at a double-parked Thomas, stepped into the building, and rode the elevator to her floor.
After firing up her laptop and starting on emails, the door opened.Sophie. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. How did one always look so effortlessly cool? Ripped black skinny jeans, Doc Martens, a T-shirt with a cat shooting a rainbow laser beam from its eyes, and a cardigan. No one else could rock a mismatched outfit like her.
“You’re seriously going to turn me into Pavlov’s dog if you keep doing this.” Sophie accepted the coffee cup and sipped. She flicked at the foam remnant on her lip and Ella pretended the motion didn’t have quite the effect on her that it did. “Yum.Freaking delicious. What is this? I think I taste cardamom, but it’s not chai.”
Ella couldn’t help but grin. She’d been bringing Sophie some type of flavored coffee all week. And she’d continue doing so for the rush she got seeing Sophie’s face light up. “Edible rose. Cool, huh?”
“Very cool.” She took another sip. “Seriously yummy. Thanks, Ella.”
She said my name. Ella had heard her name from Sophie’s mouth before, but not like this. Not layered with ginger and honey and sounding all dreamy.Snap out of it. After getting along for a week, Ella slowly realized the last several days that she’d developed a bit of a crush. She knew it was ridiculous. So much so that she was going to add this to her manifesto for why parents needed to stop controlling their adult kids—because the first hot queer woman who was nice to them, they’d go gaga after.
“Ella, Sophie!” Malcolm’s voice filled the room as he strolled through the office doors. “My favorite PMs assigned to the Devil’s ad.”
Ella glanced at Sophie. “Does he mean?—”
“Yep. Exactly as he said. He’d never play real favorites.”
Malcolm plucked out his AirPods and snapped them in the case. “Gather around, friends. New Gracie photo.” He dangled the phone in front of Ella and Sophie. “I think she’s trying to read in this one.” He pinched the screen to scroll tighter to the baby’s face. “If you look close, she looks like she’s concentrating, right? And right behind her, we have a framed phrase from Alice Walker, so…”
“Do you think maybe…” Sophie stared at the photo of the drooling baby.
Malcolm shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe she just had to poop?”
He overexaggerated a glare at Sophie and turned to Ella. “Hi, Ella, my favorite PM on the DD ad.”
Ella grinned. She really liked Malcolm as a manager. She’d never had one before, and wasn’t sure what to expect. But she’d pictured some stuffy guy in an obnoxious checkered tie, barking orders from a desk like her dad probably used to do. Even though Sophie was the one training her, Malcolm was their leader, and he perfectly executed a hands-off/hands-on approach. A few times a day he’d swing by her desk, ask her and Sophie if they needed anything, then leave, trusting them to do their job. “Don’t need me getting in the way, messing anything up, but I’m here if needed,” he’d said her first week.
He snaked a leg around a rolling office chair and pushed it near the women. He plonked down, crossed his legs, and tapped the corner of his crisp white Jordans. “Give me a five-minute status update.”
Ella remained quiet until Sophie gave her a gentle nod. “Go ahead.” Her voice was encouraging and warm—exactly what Ella needed.
No matter how informal Ella’s mind knew this meeting was, her insides didn’t agree. Her tongue turned heavy, and she exhaled a low, very unsteady breath. “The leadership team signed off on the strategy. The core target is eighteen to thirty-five, of course, and the sub-targets within that are millennials and Gen Z. The creative lead approved the first-round messaging but hasn’t presented it to the director. First-round web landing and banners are developed, and the social cadence accepted.”
Ella cleared her throat and glanced at Sophie. Her eyes had softened and her lips were curved up. She looked… proud. The feeling of validation settled somewhere deep, somewhere untouched in so long, and Ella committed that look to memory.“The last we heard, though, the copy team were struggling to come up with consolidated messaging,” she continued. “We’re hoping to complete that by tomorrow, or Monday at the latest, for preliminary approval.”
Malcolm lifted his brow, glanced hard at Ella, then Sophie, and back to Ella. “Well, my job is done here.” He chuckled and pushed himself back from the desk. “Great job, you two. Really. Keep at it, and Sophie will get on that cruise ship knitting circle after all.”
“Rude.” Sophie grinned through the word and watched as Malcolm rounded the corner. When he did, she rested a hand on Ella’s arm. Ella froze, the touch making her belly jump. “Malcolm’s the best manager in the world. But trust me when I say he doesn’t hand out compliments very often. When you get them, hold them close.”
I’m straight-up beaming.Out through her chest, up her neck, and square on her cheeks. Ella tried and failed to pull in her smile.
Later that afternoon, Ella stretched and rolled her neck after a two-hour-long project-timeline working session with Sophie. The doors to the east burst open and nearly slammed against the wall. George stomped in with two employees clipping at his heels, carrying an armful of red-and-black pastry boxes.