Sex Says(12)

Personally, I didn’t care how bright the restaurant’s lights were. Their bacon cheeseburger and double chocolate milk shake tasted like they were made in heaven, on the actual cloud nine. If my eyesight were the price, I’d pay it.

My eyebrows rose in curiosity when I reached the glass-lined walls that looked into the conference room. Only Joe and Miranda, one of my fellow columnists, were sitting inside.

That was odd. Generally, Joe didn’t call a meeting unless all of his staff was involved. Efficiency and all that jazz.

I wrapped my fingers around the cold silver metal of the handle and pulled it open. As I walked into the eerily empty conference room, neither of them glanced up to note my arrival. Instead, they sat hunched around her laptop, perusing something intently.

Miranda pointed toward the screen, and Joe grinned, a soft chuckle falling off his lips with ease.

“Uh…hey, guys,” I announced.

Both of their eyes went wide, and Miranda quickly shut her laptop.

“Hey, honey,” Miranda greeted. “How was Daisy on the ride in?”

I ignored her question. “What were you guys looking at?”

“Facebook,” Miranda said.

“Twitter,” Joe also said, at the same time.

I raised an eyebrow as I sat down in the black leather chair beside Miranda. “You guys are acting strange.”

“Strange?” Miranda asked in a pitchy voice, and then she forced a fake laugh. “I’m not acting strange. Are you acting strange, Joe?”

“Nope,” Joe said and cleared his throat. “I’m not strange.”

I pointed an accusing finger in Joe’s direction. “You’re always strange.”

He pointed back at me with a teasing smirk. “Like you should talk. You ride a bike instead of driving a car like a normal adult, and when you come to meetings, you dress like that.”

I glanced down at my attire and then looked back at him, holding both arms out. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

“Lola, I adore you,” he started. “But look at how Miranda’s dressed, and then look at how you’re dressed.”

My face scrunched up in annoyance. I didn’t even have to look at Miranda to know she was most likely wearing heels, an A-line skirt, a silk blouse, and a sleek jacket or sweater. It was her go-to workplace appropriate outfit. She must’ve had twenty different versions of that very outfit, just different colors and patterns.

“Just because she sticks to the business dress code like she works for Human Resources doesn’t mean I have to do the same,” I retorted.

Miranda scoffed, “Hey, I look fabulous.”

Joe laughed. “Lola, honey, you’re so far from sticking to the office dress code it’s not even funny.”

I stared back at him in annoyance, but he just continued on.

“Pigtails, cutoff jean shorts, gym shoes, and your tank top says ‘Tacos.’” He ticked off the items that made up today’s outfit. “It literally just says ‘Tacos.’”

“So what? I like tacos.” I shrugged. “And these aren’t gym shoes, Joe. They’re Converse.”

He grinned. “Appropriate office attire is still a pointless conversation with you, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Pretty much.”

“I honestly think you might be the weirdest, yet most likable employee I’ve ever had.”

“I’m not that eccentric.”

Miranda laughed. “Last team meeting, you wore roller skates.”

“They were my transportation!”

“You never took them off,” Miranda added. “You had them on the entire meeting, and Joe continually had to ask you to stop skating around the table.”

“First of all—” I held up my index finger “—they’re new and San Francisco has a lot of hills, so I was utilizing Joe’s rambling time wisely by getting in some roller skating practice. And, secondly—” I added another finger “—it was the only way for me to stay awake. And I wasn’t the only one suffering. Mike from accounting was two blinks away from falling into a coma.”

“I was not rambling,” Joe muttered.

“Yeah, you were,” Miranda said and I nodded.

He narrowed his eyes at both of us. “I don’t ramble.”

“Last week, while you were on the phone with your wife, she actually called your assistant, while still on the phone with you, and asked your assistant to tell you that you were needed in a meeting,” Miranda retorted. “Even your wife tries to escape your rambling.”

He raised both hands in the air. “All right, enough with the patronizing of the boss. Let’s get to the actual point of this meeting so I can call my wife and let her know her little assistant trick will not work on me again.” He half smirked and shook his head.