may be your last chance."
He continued to stare until Rob relented.
"I basically told her I was an idiot, that I've been thinking about all the things I did wrong, or didn't do, or should have done, that I miss her a lot, and all the things I miss about her, and that I really hope she'll give me one more chance."
"That's it? Didn't you forget something important?"
"No, I didn't forget," Rob said with a pained expression. "I told her how much I love her and all that."
Paul nodded. "Good. I hope it works, I really do. I like you two together. You fit. So, when are you sending them?"
"I figured I'd call as soon as we get to work. There's a florist over on Newbury Street that opens at eight. I'll have them stop by the office first to show me the arrangement and so I can attach the CD and note."
"Very nice plan," Paul said, formulating one of his own.
"Come on, man. She's not coming. If we don't get our asses in gear, we'll be late for work."
Paul took a last peek at the sidewalk.
"Maybe she went in early or didn't want coffee today," Rob offered.
Paul sighed again, nodded, and followed his friend out the door.
As they crossed West Street on the way to the office, Rob asked, "So what's up with you and Jillian? Did she put a spell on you or something?"
"I think so. I don't know what it is. I mean I've only talked to her three times, but I feel like I've known her forever. Remember when you and Lisa first hooked up? Remember how you couldn't think or talk about anything else?
"Well…"
"Don't even try to deny it. Nobody could stand you for the first month."
"What do you mean?"
"Rob, it was bad enough that all you did at work was talk about how great she was, and that she was all you talked about on those suddenly rare occasions after work when you found time for your friends, but man, once you even brought her to the poker game. Even she thought you were nuts that time."
"No way. She…"
"She left after twenty minutes. Why the hell would she want to hang out with five guys drinking and playing cards? And then, after you spent fifteen minutes in the hall saying goodbye, you came back in and spent the next three hours telling us how much you missed her."
"Okay, okay, so what's your point?"
Paul came to an abrupt halt, grabbing his friend's arm. Turning to face him, with an almost forlorn look on his face, he said, "I think I have it worse than that."
10:10 AM
The eight foot square that defined Jillian's workspace at Metro Magazine was lined with file cabinets, bookcases, a drafting table, her desk, and a long table that held her computer and the other state-of-the-art electronics a graphic designer uses.
It was one of eighteen work, storage, and utility spaces that filled the cavernous graphic arts room, along with an office for the Design Manager, and a break room that doubled as a meeting room. Jillian's desk and computer were arranged to face away from the goings on, allowing her to focus on her work.
Her reputation for concentration was legendary in the workgroup, so it was no surprise she didn't hear the deliveryman call her name.
After the second call, several heads popped up and the occupant of the space nearest the door indicated where Jillian could be found. Half-a-dozen people, including Shandra and Marie, Jillian's closest work friends, followed him down the aisle.
"Jillian Marshall?"
"Yes?" She didn't look up from her computer screen.
He placed the vase in the center of her desk and held out a clipboard and pen. "Sign here please."
Jillian turned, saw the flowers, then the clipboard, then the deliveryman. "Those are for me?
"If you're Jillian Marshall they are. Sign on line two please."
Jillian took the clipboard, signed and asked, "Who are they from?"
"As if you didn't know, girl," said Shandra.
"There's a card." He plucked it from the holder and handed it to her as he retrieved the clipboard, said "Enjoy the flowers," and turned to leave.
The crowd in the aisle had grown to an
He continued to stare until Rob relented.
"I basically told her I was an idiot, that I've been thinking about all the things I did wrong, or didn't do, or should have done, that I miss her a lot, and all the things I miss about her, and that I really hope she'll give me one more chance."
"That's it? Didn't you forget something important?"
"No, I didn't forget," Rob said with a pained expression. "I told her how much I love her and all that."
Paul nodded. "Good. I hope it works, I really do. I like you two together. You fit. So, when are you sending them?"
"I figured I'd call as soon as we get to work. There's a florist over on Newbury Street that opens at eight. I'll have them stop by the office first to show me the arrangement and so I can attach the CD and note."
"Very nice plan," Paul said, formulating one of his own.
"Come on, man. She's not coming. If we don't get our asses in gear, we'll be late for work."
Paul took a last peek at the sidewalk.
"Maybe she went in early or didn't want coffee today," Rob offered.
Paul sighed again, nodded, and followed his friend out the door.
As they crossed West Street on the way to the office, Rob asked, "So what's up with you and Jillian? Did she put a spell on you or something?"
"I think so. I don't know what it is. I mean I've only talked to her three times, but I feel like I've known her forever. Remember when you and Lisa first hooked up? Remember how you couldn't think or talk about anything else?
"Well…"
"Don't even try to deny it. Nobody could stand you for the first month."
"What do you mean?"
"Rob, it was bad enough that all you did at work was talk about how great she was, and that she was all you talked about on those suddenly rare occasions after work when you found time for your friends, but man, once you even brought her to the poker game. Even she thought you were nuts that time."
"No way. She…"
"She left after twenty minutes. Why the hell would she want to hang out with five guys drinking and playing cards? And then, after you spent fifteen minutes in the hall saying goodbye, you came back in and spent the next three hours telling us how much you missed her."
"Okay, okay, so what's your point?"
Paul came to an abrupt halt, grabbing his friend's arm. Turning to face him, with an almost forlorn look on his face, he said, "I think I have it worse than that."
10:10 AM
The eight foot square that defined Jillian's workspace at Metro Magazine was lined with file cabinets, bookcases, a drafting table, her desk, and a long table that held her computer and the other state-of-the-art electronics a graphic designer uses.
It was one of eighteen work, storage, and utility spaces that filled the cavernous graphic arts room, along with an office for the Design Manager, and a break room that doubled as a meeting room. Jillian's desk and computer were arranged to face away from the goings on, allowing her to focus on her work.
Her reputation for concentration was legendary in the workgroup, so it was no surprise she didn't hear the deliveryman call her name.
After the second call, several heads popped up and the occupant of the space nearest the door indicated where Jillian could be found. Half-a-dozen people, including Shandra and Marie, Jillian's closest work friends, followed him down the aisle.
"Jillian Marshall?"
"Yes?" She didn't look up from her computer screen.
He placed the vase in the center of her desk and held out a clipboard and pen. "Sign here please."
Jillian turned, saw the flowers, then the clipboard, then the deliveryman. "Those are for me?
"If you're Jillian Marshall they are. Sign on line two please."
Jillian took the clipboard, signed and asked, "Who are they from?"
"As if you didn't know, girl," said Shandra.
"There's a card." He plucked it from the holder and handed it to her as he retrieved the clipboard, said "Enjoy the flowers," and turned to leave.
The crowd in the aisle had grown to an
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