I never paid any real attention to him until the morning he barreled through the hall and bumped into me with a stack of papers. Deliberately, if the force of the impact was any indication.
He was a little guy with a loud laugh and a big heart. Funny how he’s named Bob, because most of the Bobs I knew were large and hulky. This Bob was different. He was cute, in the fluffy puppy adorable kind of way.
But he already most of the females in our office enchanted; I certainly didn’t need to throw myself into his act.
So imagine my surprise when I found his paper in my pile.
And the note on it that read:
I like you. You may look serious and boring half the time (and in meetings in the other half, so I wouldn’t know how you look, through probably still gorgeous), but I think you’re interesting. Coffee?
I laughed. Gorgeous? Oh, please. The only men this stern face and tidy hair attracted were investors.
But somehow, he saw past that. He must’ve been looking rather hard, if he’d seen flashes of the girl I’d kept hidden inside my corporate shell.
And he had guts, I had to give him that.
related: Tactics, Part I
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.