It's been a few days since I met Hazel at the grocery story. I have to admit she's a little weird, but is someone I find pleasure in talking to. I think I've met another potential confidant. Too bad I forgot to give her my phone number.

Anyway, I'm glad that this new week has started on a positive note. Since I don't really like Mondays, staying at home yesterday was what I needed to recharge myself after a weekend of intense thoughts and chores.

It's weird for me to start the working week on a Tuesday, but there's a valid reason—yesterday, the office was closed due to deratting. That's because our boss casually found a dead rat in a storage room, prompting him to ask for a quick measure. At least, we won't see those disgusting creatures anymore, dead or alive.

I take my seat at my usual desk, where Dalia Howard, my most trusted colleague, awaits. In a shocking move, she announces I barely have any work left behind. Has she taken care of my tasks behind my back? When I ask, however, she denies.

Instead, she explains, "Frye has decided that, today, your tasks will be on hold. He has a special one for you instead. Go and find him in his office." I follow her instructions and head to where my boss is.

Mr. Frye is not there. I knock at his door, but find no-one. As much as I'd like to sneak in his corner to see if he has anything compromising about me, I don't. If he catches me, I'll be in deep trouble.

I find him at the central office, by the printers, along with a man around my age I've never seen before. He must be some important investor. I quietly head back to my desk, not wanting to disturb; however, Frye catches my glimpse and clears his throat.

"Oh, Braverly, don't go. I want to introduce someone to you."

I approach the two men, trying hard to conceal my lack of confidence. My boss speaks again. "Braverly, this is Jeffrey Ewing. He recently moved from Sinhurst. He has a lot of experience in publishing, and I'm confident he'll be a great asset in this team."

I extend a hand. The new guy, Jeffrey, smiles at me and returns the favor. Within the next minutes, our hands are held in a firm shake. I say, "Welcome to our team, I guess."

"The pleasure is all mine."

I decide to offer coffee as a way to break the ice. Not just to the new entry, but also to Mr. Frye, who comments, "It's such a great idea! Let me fetch it for you."

I insist. "Oh no, it's me who has to grab it. Don't worry, boss, it'll take just a few minutes." I walk towards the vending machine and insert the key. Oh, good. I have enough money for three hot drinks. I settle for two espressos for the two men, and a hot chocolate for myself. Easy peasy.

When I return to the spot where Mr. Frye and Jeffrey are, I'm ready to hand them their drinks. First, the coffee for the boss, which he grabs without too many compliments. As soon as I try to give Jeffrey his, I slip up and coffee lands on his shirt, staining it.

My chocolate has also been knocked on the floor in the process. If I make even a single step, I'll trip and fall over him. I'm so embarrassed. I have to find something to clean everything—a mop for the floor and detergent for the shirt.

I overhear giggles all around the office. I'm about to become this firm's laughingstock unless I come up with a strategy to turn things around. For now, I apologize to both Frye and Jeffrey. "I'm really sorry. I should've been more careful. Look, I'll pay for the laundry-"

Frye cuts me off. "No need to, Lane. It can happen. Next time, if you have any issues, just ask." His reaction shocks me. I expected him to tell me off over the incident. I mean, I could've ruined some important documents. The fact that I poured coffee on New Guy is a major reason for embarrassment.

So, why is Mr. Frye so lenient now? Does Jeffrey have such an impressive portfolio that it'd be better not to look pissed off around him? Or is he simply a good spirited person? The only way to find out is to talk directly to the latter, eye to eye.

***

After cleaning up and getting changed, I finish my workload for today. I don't go home until I get closure over what happened earlier. I owe it for myself and, most importantly, for him. I won't let a huge coffee stain mark his first impression of me. I have to make up for it.

I notice him the moment he's about to leave the building. I raise a hand, hoping to earn his attention, but he doesn't notice me. Therefore, I have to run to him—unfortunately, I almost trip, which means it's my second poor figure with him.

At least, he catches me. Props to him for that. "Oh, watch out! You could've injured yourself quite badly."

"Thank you so much! You know what? I've already made a fool of myself twice today, so let me introduce myself properly." I stand up and let go of his hand. "Braverly Lane."

"Jeffrey Ewing. But, please, call me Jeff."

"Okay... I guess." I giggle like an idiot. If Dalia were here, she'd chew me out. She knows I'm socially awkward and has tried to make me come out of the shell multiple times, but to no avail.

"By the way, sorry for earlier. You know, the coffee-"

He cuts me off with a smile. "Oh, that one. Don't worry. It happens. I myself drop things a lot." Wow. I think we already have something in common. If he's clumsy as he claims to be, I guess we'll have a lot of fun around one another.

There's something about his reaction bothering me, though. What if he's only putting an act for the sake of professionality? What if he's actually angry that I ruined his shirt with that brown liquid?

Too many thoughts in my head. I need to stop making rushed assumptions and start trusting people more. I can't let my past experience define my professional relationship with a new coworker, otherwise I'll never be able to move past my previous troubles.

"Anyway, I still apologize for the incident. It won't happen again." This has to be a lie. I can't predict if no similar incidents will take place another time. I have to be more careful, though, or I'll keep making a fool out of myself.

Fortunately for me, Jeff isn't bothered by it. "Again, you don't have to worry. I'm fine." He checks the time on his phone. "Oh, it's late. I've got to catch the bus. See you at work tomorrow." He leaves without letting me say goodbye properly.

Plus, what does he mean by 'catch the bus?' Does he live far from here? Or, simply, is he someone who doesn't like taking his car for work? By the way, does he even have one? I'll ask him when I have the chance. For now, all I think of is what to make for dinner tonight.