New Year's Steve - Page 4

The list goes on and on and she would adore Steve.

Me: Which one is your favorite?

Steve: Definitely Christmas and Valentine’s Day. Haven’t celebrated that one in years though, but my dad used to break out all the stops for Mom and that what’s I’m looking for too.

Swoon!

Clutching my phone to my heart, I feel my knees go weak. If Steve is half as sweet in person as he is online, I won’t care what he looks like.

The upcoming year is looking bright. As long as Skeeter or one of the custodians gets to that light before it dims completely. Or bugs my eyes out and causes me to go blind.

Which could happen. I’ve seen the documentary.

My stomach growls and I take another chug from my mug, hoping the chocolate milk will coat my stomach until Tabitha and Meg come back to feed me, but maybe I should steal a snack from the cabinet and take it back to my desk — just in case.

I nab an almond bar and a banana, and couple packages of peanut butter crackers because they go great with my milk.

Bumping into Sheila, one of the long-time receptionists on my way out of the break room, I almost drop half my treats. It’s worth it when I catch sight of her snazzy outfit.

“Well, don’t you look festive.”

Sheila twirls, gold tasseled skirt flaring around her ankles, black tights thick and warm to combat the cold outside. Winter boots don’t add to the look, but make me smile so in my book that’s a win.

I hide it by sipping from my mug.

“Going somewhere later?” I ask her, settling in for a quick chat. The diversion is welcome since I have to go hunt down the maintenance staff, and besides — maybe she can point me in the right direction.

Sheila knows everything.

She nods. “I met someone on Christian Singles. Dwight and I are going to a jazz bar after I’m done cracking skulls.”

Did I mention she thinks she runs this place?

“Oh, online dating?” My brows go up. “Me too, how’s it working out for you so far?”

I peg her to be about sixty-two or three years old. Snarky enough to be my grandmother and sassy enough to cause a bit of mischief within the office.

Sheila shrugs. “Eh, some of them only want to bone. It’s hard to know, just gotta ask.”

The milk in my mouth almost comes spitting back out at her mention of the word ‘bone,’ and I die a little inside, wishing I was as unfiltered as her.

Bone.

I shake my head. “Is that your polite way of saying older gentleman just want to have sex?”

She tilts her head. “You have no idea how many unsolicited wiener pics I get.”

From old men? Ew!

“Should I be insulted that I hardly get any?”

She fluffs her frizzy mane, long jingle bell earrings jingling. “No one wants to see a wrinkled wiener caused by the little blue pill.”

I try not to grimace as I blink back the visual images running through my brain. “I don’t even know what to say about that.”

Sheila looks me up and down. “You can’t tell me you’re not having any luck.”

I smile, conjuring up Steve’s broad chest and well chiseled chin and what I imagine the rest of his face to look like, considering I’ve only seen half of it. Ha!

“It’s going… slowly but surely, but you know what they say. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“That’s what losers say,” Sheila informs me. “You have to get out there and date, date, date. It’s a numbers game at this point. The odds are better the more men you meet.”

“Maybe.” I shift my stance. “But I think I’m about to get lucky—I might have met someone. We’ll see. We have a date tomorrow night.”

“A date on New Year’s Eve? What kind of a fellow takes a woman out on the most romantic evening of the year?”

My eagerness deflates a little. “I don’t know? I’m hoping it’s someone who’s genuinely interested? We have tons in common…”

“What’s this young man’s name?”

“Steve.”

Sheila thinks for a second. “You have a date on New Year’s Eve with a guy named Steve?”

I nod, grinning. Who knew Sheila and I had a stellar sense of humor in common?

“New Year’s Steve.” She cackles, earrings making that ting ting jingling noise. “Get it?”

Sheila is laughing so hard now, a single tear forms in the corner of her eye and makes its way down her cheek before she swipes it away with the tip of her finger.

“Oh girly, I haven’t had a laugh like that all day — and I saw Frank in his under britches on the last Zoom call.”

Now I’m grinning too, and both of us are laughing, and I pray to God I don’t continue to call him New Year’s Steve in my head. Knowing me, I’ll accidentally say it out loud.

Tags: Sara Ney Romance
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