It's only Tuesday of the following week and my head is throbbing as I hang up the phone after leaving another embarrassing voicemail at the LA office. I pull open my desk drawer and take out my industrial sized container of ibuprofen. My water bottle is empty so I head to the kitchenette for a refill. Jeff is in there heating his lunch in the microwave.

"So Jeff, why is it that whenever we call the LA office during their lunch hour, the place is a ghost town, but everyone here works through lunch?"

He laughs. "It's the tenacious New York spirit."

I frown as I hold my bottle beneath the water cooler spigot. "Or maybe we're just suckers."

He opens the microwave and stirs his food around. "Paige McCall got you down?"

I gulp down three pills with my water. "How did you guess?"

Jeff blows on his food. "Been there, done that." He takes a tentative bite of his reheated leftovers.

I grab my lunch bag out of the refrigerator. "And how exactly did you survive Ryan's last deal with her? I don't care if she is one of the few remaining icons of the bygone era of Hollywood glamour... She is not a nice person! And her housekeeper/masseuse/personal assistant/lackey guy is a total logistical nightmare to deal with! The man doesn't know his ass from his elbow and calls me every five minutes with changes for the shoot day."

He pauses from blowing on his food again. "You really want to know?"

We walk back towards our desks.

"Yes please give your sage advice to me, oh wise one, before I snap out!"

"If you're buttering me up, then don't forget to mention that I'm tall, dark and handsome."

"That goes without saying Jeff, you six foot tall glass of chocolate milk you."

"Well in that case... two words." He leans toward me with a conspiratorial whisper. "Liquid lunches."

He tilts back an imaginary glass and I laugh.

"You're shitting me Jeff?"

He sits down in his desk chair and rolls it into the aisle. "I'm not! The day she had me hunting down a dog trainer to have on set for her cockapoo, even though the stupid mutt wasn't going to be in the commercial with her, made me go out for an hour and have two martinis for lunch."

I sit in my own chair and also roll it into the aisle as I start to snicker into my Tupperware of salad. "Oooh that's rough. Well she wants me to look for a booking slip from ten years ago to see if I can track down the assistant from that job, who has relocated to LA by the way, so I can ask them where they got the catering from on that set because she remembers that she ate a delicious Nicoise salad that day." 

Jeff begins to laugh so hard he has to wipe his eyes. "Why would the assistant have any clue where the craft services came from?"

Now I'm doubled over in my seat and can barely catch my breath. "I.... I... I don't... knoooooow.... "

We're both howling with laughter as a trainee pushes the mail cart past us. He looks at us like we've lost our minds. Today is one of those days that feels like I have. But I don't want to scare the new kid so I cover my mouth to try to stifle myself.

Jeff is wheezing as he tries to speak again. "That poor assistant probably did arrange it because Ms. McCall requested a delicious Nicoise salad..."

We howl some more before I attempt to catch my breath as I reflect on that. "You have to admit there's a method to her madness."

My desk phone interrupts our joking. I roll my chair back and take a deep breath before I answer it. "Eric Goff's office."

"Millie Stevens?"

"Yes this is Millie speaking. How may I help you?"

"Millie, it's Fin."

"Oh... hi. Are you calling for the details on the shoot? I'm sorry I haven't contacted you with them yet. There are still a few... um... a few kinks to work out."

Did I really just say the word 'kinks' to Fin Covington? I slap my hand to my forehead at my Freudian slip. "I mean that there are some details that still need to be finalized."

I hear him chuckle on the other line. "I knew what you meant by kinks Millie. But I'm not calling about that."

"Okay. Then what can I help you with today? Did you need your ticket for Endgame back? I've heard that that everyone in town is fighting for a seat. You probably need it for somebody more important..."

"Actually Millie, I'm calling you regarding something I can help you out with today. I'm in the lift on my way up to your office right now."

I look down at myself in a panic. I'm wearing the most ill-fitting, boxy, button-down shirt and a floral mini skirt that's too short to be entirely appropriate for work. These were the only two clean items I could find this morning because I didn't have the money to pick up my dry cleaning and I haven't had time to do my laundry. Thankfully underwear can be hand-washed and hung up to dry.

"Millie?"

Fin's voice breaks me out of my trance.

"I'm sorry, I'm here. I'll see you in a minute then."

I hang up on him and begin unbuttoning my shirt. I yank it off and shove it in the filing cabinet behind me. I slam it shut and Jeff turns at the sound.

His eyes bug out of his head when he sees me standing there in my camisole. "What the hell are you doing Millie? Was that McCall again? Have you finally lost it?"

"I don't know... No... Yes... I mean... Fin Covington is coming up in the elevator right now to see me!"

"Well while your tiny tank top thing is pretty, when it's paired with that short skirt you look like you're working at a different profession. If you catch my meaning..."

My eyes land on the sweater draped on the back of my chair. I put it on. "Better?"

He gives me the thumbs up so I take out my compact and check my teeth for lettuce before I slather on a touch of lipstick. I decide to leave my flats on. Heels with this skirt would definitely come off as too slutty. The phone rings again.

"Eric Goff's office."

I hear the receptionist's formal voice. "Fin Covington is in the lobby waiting for you, Millie."

He's leaning on the receptionists' desk with a paper shopping bag in his hand when I get there. The two gossip queens are enraptured by him. He sees me and smirks, then turns back to them for a moment. "Pleasure chatting with you ladies."

Whatever Fin has in the bag smells amazing. My stomach growls audibly as we walk back to my department. I glance over at him. "Sorry, it's lunch."

"I know. That's why I'm here." He smiles and I wrinkle my forehead at him. Then he holds up the paper bag. "I heard you like fish and chips."

We're in front of Eric's office door now. I'm sure my face looks shocked and confused because Jeff is staring at us mirroring that exact expression.

Fin nods at him. "Hey mate."

Jeff closes his mouth and nods back.

Eric is out for the day. So I step into his office and beckon Fin in behind me, quickly shutting the door. "Where did you hear that I like fish and chips from?"

He snickers as he begins to unload the greasy contents onto Eric's desk. I clear a space to make sure nothing important gets dirty.

"It seems that some gormless wanker from this office belled up my assistant yesterday. Asked her about my favorite place in New York for fish and chips. Said that Eric Goff wanted to send me some, but his assistant had mucked it up, and lost the name of the recommendation I had given her... or some such rubbish. I gather he was trying very hard to get my mobile number."

Gently he guides me by my elbow to sit down in Eric's chair. Then he holds up a container of fries. "Malt vinegar?"

I nod yes and Fin pours a plastic condiment cup full on top of them. "I nearly brought you some Guinness too. But I thought better of it at the last minute." 

"Of any day to bring me a drink, today would have been a good one."

He laughs and squats down in front of me. "Sorry duck, but you'll have to settle for this."

Then he hands me the fries, but I just hold the container and stare past it, at the hem of my too short skirt against my thighs.

Fin furrows his brow and picks up a fry up with his fingers. They brush against my bottom lip as he places it into my mouth.

I cover my lips with my hand because I'm shocked that he's just done something so intimate and I'm embarrassed that he's watching me chew.

To avoid thinking about the feeling that pools in my hand-washed panties, I pay attention to what is going on in my mouth instead. The outside of the fry is slightly crunchy and the inside is fluffy. It is salty, savory and tangy on my tongue. I moan a little at the sublime flavors and his face lights ups.

"I wanted to bring you something to thank you for protecting my privacy."

I pick up another fry but don't put it into my mouth so I can answer. "You asked me not to share your number. I would never violate that trust."

Fin stands up again and wipes his hands on the back of his jeans. "Well you'd be surprised how little, things like trust and privacy mean to most people today."

The next fry goes into my mouth and I savor it with my eyes shut. He is studying me when open them again.

I look down, appraising the food in front of me. "It's not that shocking when you think about how most people today tweet out every thought they ever have and share bathroom selfies. It seems like they don't value their own privacy, let alone anyone else's."

Fin doesn't speak. A loaded silence fills the room.

If this moment was in my screenplay, I'd find the perfect line to add. Something funny to diffuse the tension, or flirty to build it.

Yet, I'm currently at a loss for words.

My next option is action. I should do something. Anything.

I know what I want to do.

It would probably make a way bigger mess on Eric's desk than some fish and chips. Plus, I don't think he'd appreciate if I sullied his ergonomic chair that way either.

My day would end with a slip of paper in one hand, and a cardboard box in the other.

The only logical option remaining is to venture another tiny taste. So I look directly at Fin again and bite into a fry.

Fin chews his lip.

Finally, he sits on the edge of Eric's desk, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "If I'm being completely honest with you Millie, I didn't just come to thank you."

"Oh!" I swallow. "Then what can I do for you Fin?"

"You've just done it."

"What have I just done?"

"I wanted to hear you say my name. That was the first time you've said it."

He runs his hands through his hair and my knees feel weak.

Thankfully I'm sitting because while I realize that was the first time I've said his name to him, I've called it out in the privacy of my own bedroom plenty of times.

I wipe my sweaty hands on a napkin.

Fin stands and moves toward the door. "Well enjoy your lunch. I have a costume fitting to get to. Then I have to swot some more lines."

"I'll see you out." I place the fries on Eric's desk and lift myself from his chair.

"And give those curtain twitchers up front more gossip? No way. I'll find my way out just fine." He throws his thumb in the opposite direction of the lobby.

I shake my head and point in the correct direction. "That way."

He winks at me. "Got it now. Let's say our goodbyes in here."

"Umm ok... sure." I blush as he steps back towards me.

Then he wraps his arms around me in a very friendly hug. "Cheers Millie."

The man smells delicious, like Earl Grey tea and tangerines. I hadn't noticed before over the powerful odor of beer-battered fried fish. But now I contemplate burying my nose against his neck to snort his aroma in like he's a drug. I could definitely get addicted to him.

"My pleasure Fin."

He lets go after I've said his name, but stands there for another minute staring at me. "I'm still looking forward to a call from you."

"We'll speak soon. I promise. Thank you for lunch."

He walks out of Eric's office and I collapse back into the chair.

What in the world just went on here?

Whatever it was, it was probably not a good career move. 

Miranda appears in the doorway with her sunglasses on and a smoothie in her hand. "I just passed Fin Covington walking toward the lobby! Was he here to see you Millie?"

Jeff is standing next to her now. "He was! And he brought her food." He smiles so large that both of his dimples show.

Miranda lifts her sunglasses onto her head. "And you brought him into Eric's office and shut the door?!" She sounds scandalized.

"Nothing happened." I stand up and gather the food.

They both look at me skeptically.

With the paper bag in my arms, I squeeze between them and they follow me to my desk. "You can listen in while I call Eric and explain if you like."

Neither one of them move away. Jeff's phone is ringing but he ignores it.

I pick up my headset and dial Eric's number from memory as I put it on. I look pointedly at them while I speak. They listen intently to my end of the conversation.

"Hey Eric. How'd did your Mom's surgery go? Good... great... tell her I send my regards. Well... no... yes... I'm sorry... I know you said not to bother you and that you'd call to check in when you could... No it's not exactly an emergency... just something a bit odd... I didn't want you to hear it from anyone else... No not the McCall deal... It's the Covington one... No, no... Don't freak...He stopped by and brought me some fish and chips for lunch... No I haven't called his cell at all... Well, because the details aren't ironed out yet... I swear I haven't used it for any personal calls with him... That's the thing... He actually stopped by to thank me for keeping his number private... It seems that somebody from the office tried to get his number from his assistant... They threw our names around with London... I have my suspicions... Uh huh... Okay... I apologize for bothering you again... Okay... Talk to you later. Bye."

I hang up the phone and Miranda and Jeff are smiling at me.

Then Miranda glares at me. "Fin gave you his number and you didn't tell me?!"

"I'll let you two work this out." Jeff laughs and returns to his desk.

My headache hasn't gone away. I press the heels of my hand against my eyes. "Miranda, he gave it to me for professional purposes only and I didn't tell anyone other than Eric. Even though the news got out somehow..."

The spreadsheet of the radio contracts that need to be renewed is open on my computer monitor. I turn my head to peruse all of the work that I still need to accomplish after dealing with McCall and her crazy demands all morning.

Miranda stomps her foot to call my attention back to her. "Nothing is ever a secret in this industry Millie! You should know that much by now. That's why you should have just told me from the beginning."

"There's nothing to tell Miranda. I have to give him the details of the booking and he was nice enough to not make me play phone tag with the London offices. He was just being decent."

I sigh and squeakily swivel around to the contracts.

Behind my back I hear Miranda's keys crash onto her desk as she sits in her chair and mumbles. "Well that's not very romantic."

I look over my shoulder at her. "Sorry my life isn't a Nicholas Sparks' novel."

She takes a long, noisy slurp from her smoothie and flips me off.

I laugh. "That's why I write movie scripts Miranda. It's much more exciting."