A Chance for Sunny Skies (12 page)

The woman opened the door, asked if he had a minute, and motioned for me to walk in. I nodded a thank you as she closed the door behind me.
Make sure he notices your body
, a magazine article had advised me when I read a section about "How to get
him
interested in
you
." Rainy had found it in her room and we read through it while we inventoried the night before. I was happier about my body, but making sure people noticed it? Heck, I'd spent most of the last decade doing just the opposite. I gulped and walked forward, pushing my chest out, and letting my hips swing from side to side.

Look him deep in the eyes
, was the next tip, so as I closed in on Spencer, I locked eyes with him and tried to find the
smoldering stare
the magazine had gushed about. Rainy and I had practiced, but mostly we ended up cracking up so much that we needed to use the bathroom.

While Spencer had looked up when I first walked in, he looked back down at a stack of papers on his desk before I really felt like I got into my full-smolder. Suddenly, all I could picture was Brian and how even though I didn't know him all that well, I doubted he would ever look away from me if I was walking into a room. My feet faltered along with my resolve and I flew forward and caught myself on his desk.

Spencer looked up at me. "So what's up?" His eyebrows furrowed together and I noticed that he pressed his fingers to his right temple between sighs. His perfect, movie star face was tense and angry. And I realized I didn't want it. I didn't care what the universe wanted for me. It was wrong about this. Brian was the one I was supposed to ask out.

"Oh, um." Now it was my mouth's turn to stumble instead of my feet. I had come in here to flirt, to ask him out. If I was abandoning that idea, what could I say?

Spencer's forehead wrinkles only deepened as he waited for me. I sat down and tried to think. Make small talk, Sunny. Just go with what you practiced with Rainy.

"I wondered if you had any more photographs, of you know, weather." I tried to ask it normally instead of flirty now that my plan had changed, but it came out kind of like a cough instead.

Spencer closed his eyes and squeezed them tight for a second before opening them and looking at me again. He cocked his head to the side. "Sorry? What?"

My face heated up. Sure, I had already decided
I
didn't want
him
, but he
wasn't
acting like he loved me (or would love me someday in the future) either. Maybe it wasn't the universe that was wrong, maybe it was me. If he wasn't my love interest, then was the sign really about me becoming a weather girl or a photographer? My blood must've been trying to run away from the idea because it all seemed to leave my head at once. I wobbled dizzily.

"I -- um." I couldn't think. I couldn't be a weather girl. I had spent my whole life purposely not being one or anywhere near one and taking pictures just sounded boring and like another way for me to fail. My mouth felt dry and terrible.

Spencer sighed and moved some papers around on his desk. "Look, Sunny is it?" I nodded (or slightly wobbled). "I have a crisis on my hands and unless you're here to apply for this assistant position in the weather department, I really don't have time for whatever this is." He waved in my direction.

Feelings of mortification were bubbling up pretty quick and it looked like Spencer was just about to kick me out, so I trusted that the universe had put me here on purpose and blurted out, "Yes. I want that job."

Spencer stopped looking angry, stressed, hopeless and watched me. His face softened, then he narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? You'd be helping set up and check lighting. A lot of assisting the main camera man." He waved his hand in the air. "That kind of stuff."

I nodded after each thing he said. At that moment I couldn't care less which of the other options it was, both seemed plausible since I would be working with cameras and weathermen. Cameras were a part of photography and weatherman meant the same thing as meteorologist, right? Plus, the whole each-sign-is-an-opportunity-to-fix-my-anxieties idea had been working really well and maybe this would, too. A month ago there would've been no way I could've attempted to flirt with my boss (even though I decided against it almost as soon as I got there, but that's not the point). This could be really good for me, facing fears and all.

"You think you'd wanna do that?" He cringed slightly when he asked the question as if no one in their right mind would want to. "You'd be working closely with Ken and Jeanette." Their names came out of his mouth like I imagined swear words might, with a flinch and a shudder.

That's when the reality of it all dropped on my shoulders and my fears about this leading me to a job as a weather girl took a back seat. Working with Ken and Jeanette. Jeannette, the afternoon weather girl, was Ken's counterpart and equally terrible. That's probably why he'd had a hard time filling the position and I'd be right there with them, every day. The weight on my shoulders moved down to the bottom of my stomach, but the universe had put me here and I couldn't ignore this sign.

"Yes." The word came out small and unsure, but it was the right word, so I didn't fault myself too much.

Spencer nodded and tapped his fingers on the desk. "Alright. We'll count this as your interview, I'll contact the temp agency, and..." He rubbed his temples. "Um, you know what? Just head down to HR and have Sarah handle the rest. I need to get back to this." He patted the sigh-inducing-paperwork in front of him.

"Yeah, sure." I stood and almost plunked my butt back in that chair because I felt sick. What had I done? "So I'll start...?" I turned back to him. Maybe I could change my mind still? Maybe the whole paperwork thing will take a few weeks.

"Hopefully in a few days," he said, looking up. "Sarah will let you know."

I nodded. "Oh, good. A few days." I walked out of his office. "A few days," I said again, searching for any feelings of excitement, but there must've been too much anxiety in the way, because all I could feel was that huge weight settling in my stomach the size of Ken’s and Jeanette's egos combined.

The universe must hate me. Wasn't almost drowning enough? Now I had to work in a field that scared me to death with people who make me want to die? I held my own pity party in my head as I walked myself to the elevators. However, when I entered the elevator something started to make me feel light, started to lift the weight of this new job a little. It was a tingle that started deep down in my gut, a tiny butterfly flapping its wings once or twice.

Because even when I thought he was the universe's plan for me, I hadn't picked Spencer. I wanted Brian.

I checked my watch and saw it was close enough to my lunch time to leave, texted Rainy that I wouldn't be at yoga, and then pressed the button for the lobby.

My phone buzzed.

Rainy:
You're bailing on class? Um... Why? We're doing twists and I insist that you endure the same torture.

Me:
Going to ask Brian out.

Rainy:
=) I thought -- Oh, I don't care. I want a report. Stat.

I shoved my phone in my purse as I approached Brian's building (I'm not proud, but after lunch yesterday, I mapped it on my computer and drove by it on my way to Rainy's.) Huge and shiny and monotone, it made me feel frizzy and entirely too colorful, but I was New Sunny. I'd just landed myself a new job, I had friends, and I was going to ask a boy out for the first time in -- well, ever. I took a deep breath of the normal, outside air and walked through the glass doors.

I sauntered up to a huge list of company names on a glowing wall in the middle of the large foyer and found that Pet Protect rented floor eleven. I turned and found a row of five elevators and stood in front of it until one dinged and I stepped inside.

The elevator made our building's seem like garbage. There weren't any unexplainable stains on the carpet and the walls were mirrored, so no matter where you looked, you had to see yourself. I was alone in there, which was just as well, because I couldn't help doing James Bond type spin-and-look moves in every direction. Also, that was a lot of mirrors for my amount of hair. Everywhere you looked there was a bright red mop. I think it may have overwhelmed a normal person.

I had too much fun with the mirror-vator that I forgot what I was traveling up to do. The door dinged open and I just stood there, frozen again. The doors opened to a waiting area with a desk and a secretary. She glanced up as she heard the noise. I couldn’t move.

She smiled at me.

The doors closed.

I sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep from hyperventilating. Yeesh, this was difficult. Okay, Sunny, I coached myself. All you have to do is step out onto his floor. That's all you have to do next. I nodded. I thought I could do that. I was about to. Really, I was. Apparently someone else had called the mirror-vator at that exact moment and it started moving down again. Crap. The machine sped downward and the doors opened. A few businessy looking guys stood waiting. When they saw me inside, they smiled and waited for me to leave. One of them even motioned with his hand like he was unsure if I knew the way out.

I shook my head and said, "Oh, I'm staying in."

The men shared confounded looks, but shook their heads and joined me in the mirror-vator. Once the doors closed I let out a long sigh and ran my hands through my hair, trying to make it smaller somehow. Still, it was all I could see in every direction and I wished I hadn't decided to wear it down after all. The men stood quietly save for occasional and oh-so-awkward throat clearing. I tried to smile at them, but all I could see whenever I looked up was me in the mirror. And my hair.

I started to panic. The elevator climbed up, up toward Brian, and I had the largest hair ever. My heart hammered in my chest and my hair seemed to get bigger and bigger the closer the numbers above the doors got to eleven. At ten, I felt light-headed and quite woozy. I cringed and closed my eyes as I waited for the doors to open.

They didn't. I peeked out from under one eyelid and looked at the floor number. Fifteen. What? The damn mirror-vator had skipped my floor. I almost kicked it like a junky old car.

"Ma'am? Did you know what floor you want?" one of the business men asked.

I opened my eyes wide. Oh! That's why it didn't stop. I never pushed a button after they got in. Ha! I laughed in my head and said, "Yes! Sorry." I punched my finger into the eleven button and looked in dread at the other buttons that were highlighted, floors twenty-three, thirty-five, and thirty-seven. I inwardly groaned. Now I had to wait in this thing all the way to the-almost-top of this building and then back down before I could see Brian. That would be enough time for me to change my mind eighteen times.

I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth a little. I could feel my fellow passengers' eyes on the back of my enormously large-feeling-hair-head-area, but I kept looking down. My phone buzzed in my purse.

Rainy:
Well? How's it going?

Me:
Getting there. Technical difficulties.

Rainy:
I can't even guess what that might mean.

By the time the mirror-vator dropped off the high-flying businessmen and got back down to floor eleven, I positioned myself right by the doors as they opened and I jumped out of that damn machine before I got stuck on another whole-building-tour. The secretary girl looked up and smiled.

"Hello. Welcome to Pet Protect. What can I help you protect?" She seemed to cringe a bit as she said the silly rehearsed lines. Poor girl.

"I'm looking for Brian Andersen. Is he in today?" (I felt very official adding that last part.)

She looked down at something on her desk and then returned her happy gaze to me. "Why, he is!" she said like I could picture her saying, "Best day ever!" (which felt about right for
my
level of excitement, but I couldn't figure out why
she
was so happy). "If you'll just sign in, I can take you back to him." She pointed at a clipboard on the top part of the desk.

I walked forward and grabbed the pen, wrinkling my forehead at the paper. Name: Okay, I could do that. I filled in my name and move on to the next column. Appointment with: Um. I wrote Brian's name, pressed the end of the pen to my lip, realized it was a public pen and pulled it away, wiping my lip with the back of my hand.

"I don't exactly have an appointment." I scrunched my nose up and tried to look like someone you would make allowances just-this-one-time for.

"Oh," she said in a super-sweet voice and waved her hand, "that's okay."

I smiled and felt much better, until I read the next and last column. What is your visit in reference to? I pursed my lips and looked around the office. Could I put
a
date
? Should I lie?

I leaned on the desk a little more, waiting and hoping she might look up so I could ask her without interrupting her work again. But she kept typing and didn't look up, so I wrote,
Cat puke
.

He was a pet insurance salesman. That seemed like a problem you might discuss with your agent. Right? I put the pen down loudly to get her attention and she looked up, smiled, took the clipboard, flipping it so she could read it, and then tipped her head as she read what I'd written. She narrowed her eyes, but looked at me and said, "Let me take you back."

I followed her through a set of French doors into a large open area with about thirty cubicles in the middle and six or seven enclosed offices on the sides. She led me through a maze of desks until she arrived at an empty desk. Not only empty as in there was no person at it, but empty like almost totally clean, save for a pad of paper and a pen. He really was a neat freak.

She turned. "Sorry, looks like he's having lunch. He might be in the break room, would you like me to call back and see?"

I froze again. I hadn't even thought of the possibility that he wouldn't be here, but he wasn't. Should I come back later? Should I have her call the break room? Should I leave a note? At the thought, a glorious glowing light (stronger than the ones in the where-things-are wall downstairs) seemed to emanate from the pad of paper sitting on his ridiculously clean desk. A smile curled my lips.

"Can I leave a note?" I asked, looking to her with a pleading desperation in my eyes.

"Sure." She shrugged and pointed to the pad on the desk.

I snatched it up and began to write. I couldn't believe my luck. I think I even hummed a jaunty tune as I wrote a quick, super-casual message to him.

Brian, sorry I had to run out on lunch yesterday. Would you like to meet for dinner sometime to make up for it? Call me. Sunny.

Then I jotted down my number. That had been easy, even with receptionist girl standing behind me, waiting. I re-read the message once, nodded, and placed it on his desk. The sureness I felt made me remember how easy life and friendship used to be when it mostly consisted of me typing conversations. Even though I much preferred in person relationships to the old ones I used to have on the computer, in the chat rooms, this felt comfortable and safe. Everyone should be able to ask someone out via note. It was so much less awkward and stressful and --

"Sunny?"

Oh, shit.

I turned to see Brian standing behind the receptionist. He had a laptop bag slung across one shoulder, his hair was slightly rumpled, and he looked perfect. Even though he knew nothing about the misunderstood vision and my thinking Spencer was
the one
instead of him, I felt like he'd been taken away from me and I'd just gotten him back.

"Thanks, Michelle," he said, giving the girl between us her cue to leave. He stepped closer to me. "Hi."

"Uh, hi." I turned back toward the desk and looked at the note I'd left. Now it felt incredibly stupid and embarrassing. My fingers reached out and itched to crumple it up before he had a chance to look at it.

Brian stepped forward and leaned around me to see what I was reaching toward. "That for me?" He smiled.

I shook my head. Then nodded. Ack! I snatched the notepad and grasped it to my chest. My face was hot and probably red enough to match my hair and I remembered how big my hair had looked in the elevator and I don't think I was breathing.

Brian bit his lip and leaned forward. "May I see it?" he asked.

I nodded, but the pad stayed glued to me. I couldn't stop staring into his eyes. He was a good foot taller than me, but he didn't look gangly. Somehow he wasn't doughy either. He just was. Normal guy. Brian. Standing here, talking to me. Smiling at me. I wanted that to continue. It took all of my strength, but I pried the notepad away from myself and handed it to him.

His eyes flicked over the page and though his mouth didn't move, his face seemed to brighten into a smile. He looked up at me and leaned to his right to pick up the pen from his desk. He flipped the page and started to write, glancing up at me every few seconds. Then he passed the pad back to me.

I couldn't read fast enough. My heart pumped so furiously I felt I might faint, but I didn't. I read.

Sunny, yes. I would love to. How does tonight sound? I will pick you up at 6:00. Any ideas of where you’d like to go?

I smiled and looked down to make sure my feet were still on the ground because it one-hundred-percent felt like I was floating. I know that sounds cliché and gushy romantic, but I don't care because I had never done this before and it was my turn to use clichés and gush. I stuck my hand out and Brian passed me the pen.

I wrote,
Absolutely no ideas, but not sure it matters. How about we decide when you pick me up? Text me your number and I'll send you my address.

I gave the pen and paper back and (get this) actually successfully winked at him before turning away and giving a cute wave over my shoulder like Rainy always did. I know! I pulled it off! I couldn't help but smile as I walked out of the office, waved bye to receptionist Michelle, and loaded my giddy self into the mirror-vator.

The doors shut behind me and all I could see was me. Smiling me. Nothing had physically changed since I'd seen myself last, but I looked different. My hair seemed just big enough, my freckles seemed just freckly enough, and I seemed like Sunny.

I don't think I had actually met her until then.

"Hello, Sunny," I said to this new person whom I felt like I was meeting for the first time. I hit the button for the ground floor, leaned back, and said it out loud (because, again, I'd never had a chance to before).

"I've got a date tonight."