Page 101 of Last First Date

She flashed me a warm smile before stepping out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again. My gaze lingered on the door as I tried to dismiss the chaotic mess of feelings her presence always stirred. The scent of her perfume still hung in the air, a sweet yet intoxicating fragrance that was uniquely Waverly.

Before I even realized it, another hour had passed, and with it came another email from Waverly. I opened it quickly and found myself smiling over her reply. She was always so organized and professional about everything. I wondered how I got so lucky to have her by my side, at least professionally.

“Waverly!” I hollered, knowing it drove her crazy when I did that.

“Just a minute,” she shouted back.

I smiled, appreciating that at least we could still be somewhat normal. A couple of minutes later she appeared at my door with more coffee and a scowl. “You give me a list of three million things to do and then you want me to wait on you hand and foot.” She put my coffee down and frowned. “You really need to start drinking more water.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before. What time is the meeting with the Fourth of July planners?”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Three o’clock, just like it’s been on your schedule for the last two weeks.”

I could tell she was irritated, but still, she put up with my scatterbrained tendencies. It was one of the many things I liked about her. She was patient, a trait I deeply admired.

“Right,” I said, pretending to double-check my calendar although I knew she was correct. “And remind me, who is attending this meeting?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly seeing through my feigned ignorance. “It’s just you and the event planners, Knox.” Her voice held an undertone of exasperation. “You’ve been to these meetings before.”

“I know,” I responded. This was how far I had fallen. I was making up stupid shit just so I could talk to her. It was so middle school, but it was all I could think of to get her attention.

I was desperate, though I couldn’t directly express my desire for her. Instead, I hid behind the veneer of work-related questions and needless requests, hoping to borrow more time in her company. It was childish, and I was well aware of it. But love, or at least what I believed to be love, had made a fool out of me.

“Alright,” Waverly said after a moment, her irritation slowly subsiding. “Is there anything else?”

I hesitated. Was there anything else? There were a thousand things I wanted to ask her, a thousand things I wanted to say. But all those thoughts and words were stuck in my head. “No, thank you.”

She walked away once again. The rest of the afternoon passed fairly quickly. I busied myself with meetings, paperwork, and preparation for the Fourth of July event that we’d been hired to plan by the city. But all throughout, my mind kept drifting back to Waverly.

The clock on my office wall showed it was past five o’clock. I decided to wrap things up for the day. My mother had texted earlier and asked if I would be home for dinner. Apparently, she was cooking. I stopped by Waverly’s desk on my way out.

“Goodnight, Waverly,” I said gently, trying to keep the longing out of my voice. “Are you planning on staying much longer?”

She looked up from her computer screen, eyes filled with fatigue but still radiant. “Just a few more minutes. I just have a couple of things to wrap up.”

I nodded, knowing better than to push her to leave early. She was always efficient and never left a task undone. That was another thing I admired about her, her dedication. I understood why my grandfather had been so determined I keep her on as my assistant. She made the office run.

“Alright then. See you tomorrow,” I said, lingering for a moment longer than necessary before forcing myself to turn away.

“Goodnight, Knox,” she said with her eyes back on the screen.

A while later, I walked into the house and smelled something good. My mother wasn’t exactly known for her cooking. I made my way into the kitchen and found her at the stove. “You’re home,” she said, smiling. “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

“I’m going to change, and I’ll be back down,” I said. “It smells good.”

The little compliment made her beam with pride. “Thank you, dear. Hurry back.”

As I trudged up the stairs, I couldn’t help but replay my interactions with Waverly in my mind. It was like a broken record, stuck on repeat. The way she looked at me today, the way she called my name. Even when she scolded me, I was turned on by her.

I quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and made my way back to the kitchen where my mother had set the table.

“How was your day?” my mother asked.

I nodded, taking a bite of the spaghetti. “Good. I’m getting into the groove of things.”

“How was New York?” she asked. “I have barely seen you since you got back.”

“As you know, it was a huge success,” I told her. “The lingerie company has committed to handing us their business in the future.”