I decided to message her.
Reed: Judging from how you just waltzed by my office, your ankle seems to be a lot better. I’m guessing you won’t need a ride tomorrow.
Charlotte: LOL. I thought you were supposed to be at a lunch meeting on the Upper West Side.
Reed: Cancelled.
Charlotte: Ah, well, yes, I am doing much better. The rides into the office have been very helpful. While I’ve enjoyed your charming morning personality, you’re right. I think I can fend for myself now. The recovery time has far exceeded my expectations.
Reed: It’s far exceeded mine as well, so much so that it seems totally unbelievable. In any case, glad to see you’re feeling better. I guess now you can fetch my dry cleaning. I have some shirts that need picking up from Union Street Cleaners.
Even though menial tasks like getting coffee were part of Charlotte’s technical job description, we rarely asked her to do things like that anymore. Most of her responsibilities kept her in the office or at showings. Her role in the company was expanding. So I was totally messing with her in asking her to pick up my dry cleaning.
Charlotte: I’d be happy to pick up your shirts. Are they ready?
Reed: I was just kidding. I can pick up my own dry cleaning. You don’t need to do that.
Charlotte: Oh.
A few moments later, she appeared at my door. Her face was flushed, and she seemed like she had something major on her mind. “Can I come in?”
“You don’t have to ask.” I could see that Charlotte was definitely nervous. I took off my glasses and placed them on the desk. “What’s up?”
She closed the door, and her heels clicked as she slowly approached my desk.
“Is everything alright, Charlotte?”
“Yes.” She rubbed her palms on her skirt. “I’m just nervous to ask you something. But I told myself that I was going to do it anyway.”
“Okay . . .”
“I was wondering . . . if you would like to . . . well . . .”
“Just say it.”
Charlotte looked down at her feet. “Lately, I’ve been telling myself that I’m going to make more of an effort to go after what I want in life, take the bull by the horns, if you will. And, well . . . I really like your company. I was wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime outside of work?” She let out a long breath. “On a date.”
It felt like all my breath left my body.
I. Was. Not. Expecting. That.
Charlotte was asking me out on a date.
She was insane. And ballsy. And so fucking adorable.
And I wanted to say yes. God, how I wanted to say yes more than anything I’d wanted in a very long time.
But I knew that I couldn’t lead her on, as much as I enjoyed spending time with her. As much as being around her made me happy. As goddamn beautiful as I thought she was.
My lack of response caused her to backtrack. “Oh my God, Reed. Forget I said anything. It was just an impulsive thing. I really enjoyed our time together this week, and I find you . . . very attractive . . . and you sometimes look at me like you might feel the same and that whole thong experience in my office that one night . . . it was weird yet sexy . . . and I just thought that maybe—”
“I can’t, Charlotte. I’m sorry. I just can’t date anyone right now. The reasons are too complicated to get into. But my saying no has everything to do with me and absolutely nothing to do with you. I think you’re remarkable. You need to know that.”
“Okay.” She just kept nodding repeatedly. “Okay. Can we forget I asked this, then?”
“Totally forgotten.”
She turned around and basically fled.
After she left my office, my heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest. What she’d just done took a hell of a lot of guts. I knew that no matter what I said, she would somehow take it personally, and that killed me. I felt awful. She couldn’t possibly know how badly I wished I could’ve said yes.
And her boldness . . . that was so damn hot. Knowing she wanted me made it even harder to accept that I wasn’t going to be able to have her.
As the afternoon wore on, I couldn’t stop obsessing about having hurt Charlotte in some way. I wondered if there was a work-around, if there were a way I could spend time with her outside of work but where it wouldn’t be perceived as a date.
Deep down, I knew I was bullshitting myself. But if I never put myself in a position where I was alone with her, what would be the harm in spending some time with her?