You've Got Mail

Chapter 1 - Thoughts

A phone notification.

Email. From a VIP.

Hands trembling lightly on the desk, I struggle not to look. I'm in a meeting. Mustn't seem distracted, keep cool. But with its gentle blue glow, lying there, softly beckoning, I become more and more certain it must be from her. Surely it's from her- the one who consumes my every waking thought, for whom my heart aches, making this life worth living. I can't wait. Gently sliding the phone over, I sneak a glance. A quick view of the notification tray reveals a simple "Oh yes!", but what a thrill it gives me, what excitement it sends through every inch of my being. From my toes to my head I feel a gentle hum. That brief instant is all it takes. Face flushing with warmth, I attempt to return my attention to the task at hand, only to find myself drifting in and out of thought, thinking of what to reply. I can't seem too excited. Not disinterested either. No, women don't like a man who's too eager. Then again, I've garnered success with many a woman at the office. My assistant, she bakes me coffee cake. I think she likes me. And how effortless that catch was. Really though, all I want is her: my correspondence partner, my confidant. She makes me nervous in a way no one can, in a way no woman has for years.

That's it! I need to tell her how I feel. How she makes me feel. Lord knows her words, in that pretty little monospaced font, make me feel good beyond measure. Mindlessly standing up, going through the motions, a facade of professionalism painted on my face, I fantasize replying, a flutter in my heart at every keystroke. Each handshake and farewell brings me closer to the moment I so desperately desire.

Two more.

One more.

None.

The door clacks shut. The room quiets. In the velvet silence I reach into my little black bag, rummaging, procuring my iPad. Once a prison of work, it's now become something else. Something liberating. A door into a world I thought gone long ago. The thrill of a crush is constant, making you madder and madder until you are driven to things distinctly unlike you. I feel this exact tension - this energy - as I undo the taut band holding down the cover, now revealing the screen. I never do this, I shouldn't do this. It's unprofessional. But fuck it, I'm retiring early, they won't get me. The screen lights, still open to our thread from earlier. My loyal email app greets me. I tap to reply- a simple, yet charged statement of "i love it when you say that. - m" She knows what it means. We very often say this in private, in person, exciting at our responses every time.

I have to see her. Now. I can no longer wait. Fantasizing of trips only does so much good. We plan, we imagine a time to ourselves, a time away from our spouses. Los Angeles, Austin, Florida. Trying foods, experiencing life. Together as we should be. All these thoughts make me want her more in the present. I long. I'm lonely. I'm a lovelorn man.

Catching myself, I snap back to the present. What might I do with her this evening? Pizza house might be a good way to get her here. Or perhaps I can lure her with some knishes. Either way I have to email her the plans. Whet her appetite. Keep her excited. Lord knows we both need something to look forward to when this line of work feels so bleak. We had to make a decision to stay working in person just so we could see each other. It wasn't too difficult a trade off - surely the subordinates understand. True love comes but once in a lifetime.

I call my assistant:

Jamie?

Yes Mark?

Get me my usual from pizza house. Extra mushrooms, no onions. You know the drill.

Yes sir.

Sir? Oh God, she must really love me. Those words shouldn't be taken lightly. Especially for a generous giver of coffee cake.