Page 32 of Reptile Dysfunction
Strictly in a professional capacity, of course. My slithering companions glide across my shoulders restlessly as I tap on the newspaper, sandwich half-eaten and forgotten. Perhaps she would like to expand her column into shining the spotlight on local politics, I think to myself. Or maybe do a spread that helps the average reader gain better insight into what exactly our office does.
My hands skitter between the paper and my phone, but eventually, I end up settling back on my duties to finish off my day. Thoughts of Charlotte continue to distract me, but it’s a pleasant change from the typical concerns I usually worry about. I even jot down a few more thoughts and ideas I want to run by her, should she decide to follow up with me.
After taking the time to think about it, I decide to leave the ball in her court, as far as communication goes. Despite the progress of our time together, we still don’t know each other very well. And I want to put to rest any remaining concerns she has with me, not reinforce them by imposing myself on her time.
Not only is there potential for a real working relationship between the government and the press, but there also might be a chance for a real, genuine friendship here. I’m savvy enough with interpersonal dynamics to recognize when to play the diplomat and not try to force a situation or outcome.
So I’ll wait to see if she reaches back out to me, and we’ll go from there. We each have our own worlds to contend with, but we’ve also begun to meet in the middle and keep an open mind. As long as we maintain that dialogue and communication, I think Charlotte and I can really start to build a working relationship between us.
And maybe more, that voice pops up from somewhere deep inside me again. I try to pretend I don’t hear it.
19
CHARLOTTE
My eyes are staring at an unfinished article on the computer screen, but my mind is back in the mayor’s office. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m supposed to be writing about Mrs. Murphy’s missing lawn flamingo, which may have been stolen, making it the biggest crime in this town in over a decade! Maybe if I give this story some serious coverage, Eddie will let me back into his good graces and restore my press credentials. But I can’t bring myself to concentrate.
The little line in the middle of my half-written sentence blinks at me in time with my pulse. It’s hypnotizing, driving me further into my own thoughts. I suppose I just find him really interesting. I’ve never met a man like him before. He has so much power entrusted to him, and he uses it to actually better his community.
I guess I’ve been so jaded by a long career of covering fraud and abuse, I couldn’t believe someone out there was actually who they said they were.
He’s full of surprises. And that must be why I can’t get him out of my mind. Mason is an interesting figure. And I’m sure he’s going to be someone I end up writing about often so long as I’m working here.
I tap my desk a couple of times and sigh. There’s no way I’m going to be able to give this article my full attention in this state. I need to find Mason and… I don’t know, ask him some follow-up questions? Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe get some coffee, too. Sometimes a girl needs something with whipped cream and espresso shots to get her through the day.
I check my hair and makeup, adjust my blouse, and head out on the town. There’s a small coffee shop nearby, and as I walk inside I’m greeted by quite the coincidence.
“Charlotte!” Mason says with a wide smile. The sight of it, knowing it’s just for me, makes my heart flutter.
“Oh. You.” The teenage barista narrows her four eyes at me. “You want me to kick her out?”
Mason shakes his head. “No need. She’s not causing anyone any trouble. In fact, I assume you’re just here for some coffee?”
“Oh, yeah! Just some coffee,” I lie. But now I’m not so sure I trust anything this girl might make for me. She’s still giving me a sour face, but I try to brush it off as teenage moodiness.
“Can I make a recommendation? If you don’t already have something in mind, that is.” Mason seems excited to do so. It’s quite charming.
“Sure,” I reply. “What do you recommend?”
Mason’s face lights up, his snakes perking up with delight, and he turns back to the girl and orders. “Two large iced strawberry mocha lattes with chocolate shavings, whipped cream, and a shot of espresso.”
The teenager punches some buttons and yells to the back. “Two Mayor Wendall specials!”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I say. Mason is pulling out his wallet, ready to pay for both.
“I insist,” he replies. “I was impressed with your most recent article.”
I smile, hands on my hips, and shake my head. “Well, I would hope so, considering you were the subject of praise.”
Mason chuckles as he stuffs his wallet back in his pocket. “Oh, no, not that you said such nice things about me. Although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered. But you were so restrained and maintained a critical view of my position and work. I appreciate that.”
“Wait, you do?” I ask. I thought I’d still been a little too harsh, all things considered.
“I did.” Mason accepts the two large cups of dessert disguised as coffee and hands one to me. “If you had simply written an entire page of how great I am, it would’ve read as insincere at best. Propaganda at worst. You were fair in your coverage. I still expect the press to criticize me if I mess up. So, thank you for being honest.”
I take a sip of my drink in an attempt to hide my embarrassment over the praise. My eyes go wide in shock as my mouth feels like it’s being lit up with some kind of sugar-coated disco ball!
“This is incredible,” I say before going in for another sip. “You have amazing taste in coffee.”