Timing is Everything

BLAKE

Going to dinner with the managers of our hotels was something I did quite often. It was one of the tools I used to gauge how they really felt about the company. But this was the first time I’d found myself trying on my third shirt before heading out.

Getting dressed for dinner with Aston felt different than it usually did when I was grabbing dinner with a manager. That felt like work, this felt like a date.

One of the girls I’d dated once told me blue shirts made my eyes ‘pop.’ Looking in the full-length mirror in my walk-in closet, I decided I agreed with her. The color of my shirt did bring out my eyes.

And you sound like a fucking girl.

Fuck it, I decided. I was wearing the shirt. The other two looked just fine too, actually. I didn’t even know why I cared. I shouldn’t have cared.

This was a business dinner. Aston was coming to the restaurant after her shift. She might not know it was business for me too, but that hardly mattered. I wasn’t lying to her, and I wasn’t interview