Tess
500 Words
TessA couple days had passed since we ran into Tucker at the food truck event and I found myself thinking about him more and more. I was curious about what made this cowboy-boot-wearing cutie tick. Maybe a little more than curious, I was intrigued. To be honest, I’d never really looked at too many other men since Grier, and I had never noticed a white guy before. What was it about this one?
I was sitting at my desk in the middle of my work day, I was a financial analyst at Westerhall, Waterley and Associates, senior analyst to be precise. I pulled up f*******: on my phone since our tech department had recently blocked most social media from our computers. I had no idea how to search him, but I at least had to try.
I typed Tucker into the search bar and was deflated by the number of ‘Tuckers’, that were brought up. First and last name, it seemed like everybody and their mama was named Tucker.
“Well, damn,” I whispered.
My next and only option was one that I knew came with way too many questions.
“I’m not ready for that yet. Hell no! Her nosy ass will have questions for days,” I said to myself.
I put thoughts of Tucker, Mr. “Wrangler Jeans and Baseball Cap,” aside and went back to work.
I admit that I didn’t have a remarkably exciting job, to most. Basically, I study companies and make buy and sell recommendations. While not exciting, it does keep me in Jimmy Choos and whatever else I wanted, which is what made Grier and I such a good team.
Grier was a Junior Associate at the law firm of Brookdale, Dorland and Rosenbaum. He had only been with the firm a few months. I never realized how competitive law firms were at poaching attorneys until one of Grier’s law school classmates reached out to him. Grier saw dollar signs and felt it was a power move that increased his value in the legal world. I felt like maybe he was watching too much “Good Wife,” thinking he was Cary Agos, but stood by his decision, just like always.
After lunch with one of my industry contacts, Mr. Donaldson, I was sitting at my desk checking emails and making some phone calls to check in on clients when my phone dinged in my purse. I pulled out my phone to see the notification was for.
1 new f*******: friend request notification.
I put my phone down, since I was still in the middle of phone calls, but eventually, curiosity got the best of me. While I was mid-conversation with a client I opened my f*******: app, and found myself hoping that it was from Tucker.
Good lord woman, has a pair of jeans really got you that worked up?
I literally giggled when I saw who the request was from. Tucker Byers.
“What was that?” Mr. Gozzi asked.
“Oh, sorry, I had something caught in my throat. Please continue.”
I hit the mute button on my office phone and giggled again.
Chapter 11
- Writer
