Tuesday doesn’t come quick enough. Debbie thinks I can work the morning and we’ll head out after lunch—damn, she’s a slave driver. All morning long I stare at the clock, willing both hands to move so I can throw my bag into the back of Scott’s car and climb into the passenger seat beside him. I know this is only a workshop, but in my mind it’s grown into so much more. I’ve dreamed up a million different scenarios, things I’ll say to make him like me, ways I’ll come onto him…and every daydream ends with us twined together in one bed. Is that asking too much? It’ll just be the two of us for the next few days—I’m hoping somewhere between here and Charlotte and back again, something will change between us. I’m hoping we come back Friday as something more than coworkers, more than friends.
Ten
