“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I just…god. I didn’t know I was going to have to
bring Tildy and we’re already outside of
an office, so I know
that it looks like this is some kind of joke and it’s extremely
unprofessional, but I can assure you that—”
“It’s not. I know it’s not a joke and it’s not
unprofessional. I really appreciate that you still kept the
meeting, even though it probably stressed you out. That means
a lot. I hate offices. I hate formal settings. I didn’t want this to
feel like an inquisition. I wanted it to be natural. I liked that
you suggested coffee. I like that your agency is different. That
it’s new and innovative. So please. Don’t worry. Everything’s
going to be fine.”
Adley’s knuckles whiten as her fingers grip the pen just
a little bit harder, but I can see the tension drain out of her
shoulders. Her smile might be faltering, but it’s genuine, and
as I suspected, it transforms her face. At ease, she’s even more
beautiful.
“Thank you,” Adley breathes. She jostles her notepad
on her lap and clicks her pen. It’s one of those that has a bunch
of different colored ends that you can push down to change
out. She clicks the green one down. “I, well, if we’re going to
start, I guess we should. I don’t have a list of a hundred
questions or anything like that. You’re right when you said
that we’re different and we like to take a different approach. I
won’t ask you what your favorite color is or if you like long
walks and candlelit dinners. I know that life is about more than
that and I want to help you find someone who truly fits.