In Matters of Business Pt. 03

Day two started with a fortunately generous serving of donuts, coffee, croissants and tea. There's no way I could get through the day without a shot of caffeine, as my sleep had been affected last night by the events that took place yesterday (at least inside my head). I was physically tired, but my mind kept racing and I felt my blood pressure higher than usual. I kept circling back to the short conversation I had with that nameless colleague I am so eager to devour - or let's say, get to know first and then see where we go from there?

I must have woken up at least five times: sometimes in a sweat, sometimes from dreaming I was already back at the company and some kind of interaction was about to start. Sadly, my subconscious did not help by giving me images that could bring at least some satisfaction (the only wetness I woke up in was sweat)... so here I was, frustrated and sleep deprived, cradling that hot liquid drug in my hands while faking excitement.

My team soon found me, very monosyllabic. I blame it on some kind of traffic issue I had which affected my sleep, we do the corporate ritual of praising the coffee for keeping us one more day in that brain mill, and we sit down to watch whoever was going to try to wake the room up first.

As a likely effect from having had my body temperature above average, I decided to wear a dress and intermediate height "high" heels (we don't know if he deserves a lot more than this, do we?), which gets me compliments - but I am very much tuned out, and my responses are mostly automatic.

My mind and eyes have one focus, and I scan the room until I stop at a tall, gray-haired lady wearing a very nice blazer and exuding luxury. She is greeting a group of four men - among them, my dear sleep obliterator is nodding and they all look very focused.

I take my time watching him: this is a different color of shirt from yesterday and he looks extremely well-groomed. It seems as if this fabric embraces his skin a bit closer than it was touching him yesterday, which immediately makes me travel back to my nightly heat... I divert my gaze, as soon as I realise this obsession could already fit some sort of category of creep behavior.

"Don't mix business and pleasure, Ellie", I tell myself as I watch my form in the dress that wraps my skin.

The event is starting, so I sit.

The first speaker is the gray-haired lady. She praises us all for having the energy to be here (as if it had been our choice), and for our relentless hard work that has helped the company "fly" for the past 3 quarters.

She proceeds to start a massive slide presensation, and goes on and on about some numbers, says that she's honored to be the one heading this boat in this direction, making sure to give all details about said directions...

And here, my blinking is already slowing down - not even the coffee is going to be able to keep my boat from sinking. I hate the act of the humble leader telling us we are the true soul of it all, knowing they're the ones driving the Jaguar while we scrape. It's just too much for me - I need to get up and walk for a bit, recharge my coffee and find something to chew on in order to stay bit more awake.

I move towards the breakfast room nearby. My stomach is rumbling, and I quickly shut it up by taking some croissants, while keeping an eye on the speaker from a distance. It was maybe impolite to leave mid talk, but I honestly struggled and thought it would be worse if I just fell asleep and lost my balance, either towards the void on my left or towards a colleague's shoulder on my right.

More coffee.

A lot of clapping starts a group goes to the stage to present yet again some numbers... gosh.

More coffee.

My perception captures something of interest, though: the guy is at the stage, so why not return. I sip my drink and slowly walk back towards the entrance.

A burning inside my guts (coffee or anxiety?) tells me I need to stand out somehow and that perhaps staying by the entrance could do it, so I lean against the main door frame. Discreetly.

After lots of different slides and a constant usage of the word "strategy" (at least 20 occurrences), my speaker approaches the mic thanking the audience and again reinforcing how their strategy has brought so much impact.

Talk about impact - I went back to my LinkedIn search history and found his profile again, so now we can finally have a title: his name is Jonah. With a Hispanic last name, he had such a beautifully crafted profile that I almost felt inspired to go and do an MBA myself but eh, I'll stick with my hobbies for now.

I got so many pieces of information about him and they were now floating in my mind, which might have been visible... my face showed something, and started warming up as soon as he spoke a few specific words in his speech directly looking at me.

He must know.

I take a sip of my coffee holding that gaze and continue there until the three persons finish and everyone claps them back into their places. I go back to my seat at the same time as they are going back to theirs, pretending nothing had happened, and proceed to spend the next two hours hearing people make themselves sound way more important than they actually are.

I spent my time fantasizing our next conversation. I could criticize the croissants or ask more about the many different strategies this team he's part of has had, so that's two topics. I just know that I couldn't go another night to my place without having a bit more of him somehow.

We all leave the room after an overly hyped announcement that we will have a special activity in the afternoon, and I am battling both my hunger and my curiosity. Jonah the strategist is talking to seemingly important people, so I distract myself in collecting my lunch, which is a bit more than peanuts and consists of a big plate for us to choose very small appetizers that look very instagrammable or, uh... LinkedInmmable?

I know they are taking pictures of us and some are casually singled out to be the poster kids of corporate joy.

I am of course doing my regular act of mingling, dropping jokes to my closest colleagues and scanning the room not only for food but also for J.

My hungers are multiple.

In one of my rounds to get a new tiny salmon arrangement with some fancy leaves on top, an interesting whiff of perfume catches my nose: the gray-haired lady, whose badge I can read now - Martha - and has a tall and elegant figure, is gesturing and smiling. Her perfume extends several meters ahead of her presence, and the vicinity is full of admirers (or brown-nosers).

I don't know her, so I search for any familiar faces, which ends up in me finding him.

Our eyes lock, and a smile grows in his face. I still have the salmon on my mind, and I am trying to be nonchalant, but my automatic reaction is smiling back, which seems to prompt him to say his excuses to some of his surroundings and move towards the table where I'm heading.

I cannot hide it anymore, so I just stand with my empty plate as he approaches me intently - his proximity like a sun, changing the gravity around me and bringing heat.

I'm very happy to have a very good cardiovascular system - otherwise I would started to be worried about these interactions and my health.

"Good morning", He says with a very soothing voice and a full presence in front of me that makes me hold my breath.

"Good morning... Jonah?" I make it as if I was unsure which one was Jonah in his presentation, and he nods.

"Very interesting talk you had up there" I say, moving my eyes to the table to break the intensity of the moment.

My hands were already shaky.

Focusing on which of the tiny piles of food I would pick, I say "you guys definitely have a lot of different strategies, I could tell", and I wonder how a bit of banter that might fall more into sarcasm would be taken.

I'm not on a lot of sleep so my filters are a bit reduced.

I hear a chuckle from him. Fortunately.

"I told them we should have rehearsed but they were very confident and... that was the strategy, I guess".

I turn to him feeling my cheeks on fire.

"It was a good speech, and I now realize that my rant yesterday about AI was very misplaced, as you seem to be working with the very people who have... spearheaded it into our processes..." I say, waving my hand in a random way.

He smiles and shakes his head, picking up some food himself.

"You gave me what was in your heart, and I am very grateful for it. Thank you".

His candid response, though clearly playful, makes me internally bite myself.

How I wish we could just move past these surface levels and just dive right in, drown and choke ourselves in each other's deep waters...

... and this was me trying to resist my desire to just laugh at how he was able to say that in such seriousness that covered some humor.

I can't, though - our electricity is tangible, so I just laugh.

"You know, I'm kind of glad I don't work with you, I don't know how I could do it -- we haven't interacted that much and you're always..." - I shake my head and my snacks, immediately regretting what I said.

Now his eyes are wide, and he is curious.

"I am always what?"

I laugh more and he pushes, feigning confusion.

"Huh? What am I, I must know! I need to add it to my CV."

I am suffering.

From one side, I don't want to flirt too openly as this is still the workplace and I'm not sure if I should be doing this at all.

From another side, it's such fun and could still count as networking - I'm just meeting a new colleague...

But plausible deniability only works here if no one pays close attention to me.

"You are impossible! That's it", I say, eating my food and rolling my eyes at him.

"I have heard that before but only from my mother, so I don't know how to feel about this... as I view you in a quite different lens" he says, taking some food himself.

I almost choke with this - surely done on purpose - which he notices.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, half joking half scared, asking "Hey, sorry! Are you OK? Can you breathe?" but we are both laughing - and now I have felt his touch for the first time.

My dress does not cover my shoulder entirely and his thumb brushes against my collarbone, which does not go unnoticed by either party - his warmthhelps me recover my breath as we look at each other's face, the closest we have ever been, until I cannot tolerate it anymore.

The warmth of his thumb irradiated like cast iron, which completely threw me off. I shake my head and say, "Yes I'm fine, I was just not ready".

He removes his hand from me but ugh - specifically, I was not ready for the joke, and very much ready for the hand, but I'm not in a condition to explain that.

He takes a moment before speaking.

"My apologies, really" he says, this time sounding genuine. "We met yesterday, and I don't know if I crossed the line so, please let me know if you are uncomfortable".

I was shaking my head the whole time.

"No, look - it's the mom thing for me that kind of... took me out".

I left it there to evaluate his interpretation to what I said.

I would love to have that hand in so many different places.

"Understandable" he represses a smile. "So, we are OK?"

I nod and extend my hand to him for a handshake. My desire to touch him again came up in less than a minute...

my lack of filters today was really something.

"You are forgiven", I say as our right hands meet, and I get to enjoy few seconds more of his warmth.

His side smile resurfaces, and we part our ways after he gives me a "See you around?" and turns away with his plate full.

My own plate is still mostly empty, and my entire body feels washed away with a wave of tiny shells that massaged me.

I am both the wave and the sand dissolved in the mutual embrace of this fantasy.

I do my best to go back to my work persona and pick up some more food to go back to my table.

Like the many fevers I had as a child which brought me weird dreams and hallucinations, this seemed to be something straight out of a dream, leaving me in in an absurd (but pleasant) mess.

I soon notice the need for a trip to the bathroom, to deal with a puddle that had started collecting since a while.

It was still 11h30 AM.

I make my way to my table, leave my food there, ask my colleagues not to steal it and go to the restroom.

In walking, I have that strange sensation of being observed and immediately assumed that it is Jonah, of course. If my instincts are right, he is also enjoying this.

Following my instincts, I look around with a smile, and quickly see the gray-haired woman intently watching me as I walk, holding her gaze for as long as it takes me to get to the door.

Her expression is neutral yet intense, which confuses me. I look around to see if maybe this was directed to someone else nearby but I am the only one.

I quickly close the door behind me and take a deep breath. What was that about?