Reed was looking down at a stack of papers when I knocked on his open office door. It was the first time I’d seen him wearing glasses. They were a tortoiseshell-colored, rectangular pair—very studious—that really worked with his chiseled face. God, he looks like a sexy Clark Kent. They must’ve been only for reading, because he took them off when he looked up.
“Did you need something?”
In that moment, quite a few unprofessional answers popped into my head. I shook the thoughts away and stepped forward with the full mug of steaming coffee. The picture on the front was facing me still. “I thought you could use some coffee.”
He looked at me, then the mug, then back to me and tossed his glasses on the desk. “You found me a mug, I see?”
“I did, actually. I went to the dollar store at lunch and picked you up one so you can skip the Styrofoam.”
“That was nice of you.”
I smiled. “No problem. It’s from their off-season seasonal merchandise. Hope you don’t mind a little Christmas spirit in July.” I turned the mug so he could see the picture on the front and focused on his face so I could observe if he had any reaction.
Reed just stared at the caroling boys on the mug for the longest time. Blinking in confusion, it was clear that I’d caught him off guard. Without a hint of laughter coming from him, I knew there was no way that he had planted that list for my amusement. He would’ve gotten the joke if that were the case.
He peered up at me. “Why did you pick this one?”
Uh . . .
Oh no.
I could feel a case of the nervous giggles coming on. Occasionally, when I’m put on the spot, I just laugh. And once it starts creeping in, there is no stopping it from happening.
This was not good.
Rather than answer him, I fell into a fit of laughter that gradually went from slight to hysterical. Tears were forming in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I said as I tried to stop. This went on for almost a minute—me laughing and Reed just watching me incredulously.
He finally asked, “What the hell is so funny about this mug, Charlotte?”
Oh my God.
Either I admit to him that I was snooping and found his bucket list or he’s going to think that I’m making fun of his choir wish.
Never! I would never be so cruel as to laugh at someone’s dreams. I mean, I thought this was a joke on me—that he’d planted that list. Now that I knew it was real, I could never make light of something he truly wished for. My laughter was more about getting caught in a sticky situation. I was laughing at myself . . . but he wouldn’t know that.
There was only one way out. I had to tell the truth.
“I’m sorry. This is a misunderstanding.”
“Care to explain?”
“I . . . stumbled upon your bucket list. The one that you saved on the company server.”
Reed’s expression soured. My heartbeat accelerated in anticipation of his response.
He let out a breath, then said, “It was on the server, yes, but it was in a personal folder, Charlotte.”
“That’s right.”
“You were snooping in my personal files, and this mug is your way of poking fun at what you discovered?”
“No! You have it all wrong. You see . . . I just couldn’t believe that you would be making a bucket list in the first place. You were sort of making fun of me for my own. I didn’t want to have to admit that I’d opened that file, even though I figured that anything on the company server couldn’t be that private, even if marked ‘Personal.’ But I apologize. I was wrong. Anyway, I thought maybe you left the list intentionally for me as a joke. I was trying to gauge your reaction with this mug to see if my suspicions were correct. But it’s become apparent that I was very wrong. I wasn’t laughing because you want to sing—at all. Please know that. I was laughing at the situation I’d gotten myself into. It was nervous laughter. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”
He just sat there staring at me while he took a few sips of coffee from the mug. I caught a hint of a slight smirk. It seemed that he was enjoying watching me sweat.
When he finally spoke, he said, “You’re a real pill, you know that?”
Unleashing the smile I’d been holding back, I said, “So . . . it’s true? You started to make a list because you wanted to? It was real?”
He placed his mug down, then rubbed his temples. His deep brown eyes seared into me when he looked up and said, “Yes.”
“Really?”
“Did I not just say yes?”
Taking a seat in front of him, I crossed my arms and leaned into his desk. “What made you do it?”