Scrolling google in search of date ideas might be considered somewhat lame.

I should've been able to come up with something on my own, right? But I wanted it to be perfect. Amalia deserved the perfect date.

Jordan appeared at our cubicle. Today his shirt looked different. It was the same. Always the same pinstriped in a different colour. But he wasn't wearing a tie and his sleeves were rolled up.

"Good morning team," he leaned on the wall and nodded. "Max, if my fifteen year old dipshit of an ex step son calls, do not transfer him."

"Uh. Ex step son?"

"Yeah. His Mother brought him with her into our seven month marriage and she took him with her when she left. Almost two years later and he's still leeching for cash."

I raised my brows and wrote down a reminder on a post it. "What's his name?"

"Gold."

"His name is Gold?"

Marnie snorted from where she sat, tapping at her keyboard.

"Yep," Jordan answered. "I've sent a list of jobs over on Chat. Starting with a coffee please, Max. Get one for Marnie too."

Her head remained still but her narrow gaze moved to where Jordan stood, now watching her. He smiled. "You look nice, Marnie. New shirt?"

Her eyes darted from side to side and then she looked down at her black blouse. "What do you want?"

Jordan recoiled and nervously laughed. "You just look. . . nice. Is that inappropriate to say?"

"Just tell me what you want. You've accidentally deleted the file I drew up last night, right? You need me to stay late?" She drawled with boredom and then leaned back in her chair. "You want me to work the weekend?"

Jordan stammered, standing up a little straighter, his confusion evident.

"Save the compliments, Jordan. I'll be much less pissed if you don't waste my time and just get to the point."

"Alright, fine," he swallowed, flushed and panicked. "Do you want to have dinner with me?"

Well.

Her shoulders slumped. She stared at him, nothing but silence in our awkward cubicle while the rest of the office floor continued to hum around us for a solid two minutes.

Finally she stood up and both Jordan and I flinched.

"I quit."

Jordan's eyes became wide and he looked to me for help.

"Marnie," I stood as well.

She still seemed bored. You would think she was entirely unfazed at the whole situation but it'd clearly pissed her off.

"Are you in on this?" She started packing her bag up. "Filming me? Is this an office prank?"

"I don't think it's a joke."

She paused and gave me a flat stare.

"It's not a joke," Jordan rubbed the back of his neck. This was not how I had expected Monday morning to begin.

Jordan as a boss was in charge. He had good leadership qualities and carried himself with confidence.

Jordan as a man showing interest in a woman and attempting to ask her out, was a whole other story. In his defence, Marnie can be intimidating.

"I just want to get dinner together sometime," he said, gulping when her scowl set on him. "If you want. No pressure."

For a split second, her disinterested countenance slipped and I saw vulnerability. She really couldn't understand what he would want to ask her out for. That was sad.

"And please don't quit," he added. "You wouldn't be easy to replace. At all."

She rolled her eyes and dropped her bag on the floor before she fell back into her roller chair. "Whatever. I might eat at Moxie's tonight. Good Vegan food. Might be there at eight. I guess we'll see."

Jordan smiled at her. Even though she was watching her computer screen, back to work. He gave me a thumbs up and backed out of the cubicle.

I had to applaud his efforts in wanting to pursue Marnie. She wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"So how about that," I sat down again, running a hand across my face. It felt stressful just being a witness to that situation. "Date with Jordan. The boss. Should be nice."

She looked up, staring at me dead in the eye from across the top of our computers and glared. "If he's fucking with me and I find out that you knew. I'll kill him and frame you for it."

I slowly nodded and did not doubt her sincerity for one moment.

That night, I sat in bed, laptop opened on a website with a list of the top 100 classic romance movies.

I thought it might be a good place to start in terms of a first date. But then I wondered if that was too intimate and I should start with dinner. I didn't want to be boring though.

The lights were off. The bed sheets draped across my bare waist and I sat with a hand behind my head, watching the glow the city outside casted into the black night.

My finger tapped the headboard behind me as I contemplated options.

After ten minutes of staring at light pollution which could be considered beautiful but not in the same sense that real stars were, I decided to call in for some help.

"Hello," Mom answered her phone after the seventh ring.

It was an hour earlier where she was. But she still could have been sleeping.

"Hey Mom, did I wake you?"

"Oh no honey," it sounded as if she was shifting sheets. "I'm in bed but I'm awake. What's up?"

Dad's voice came loud and clear from the background. "Fuck off."

The distinct sound of a slap followed and I waited for a minute until whatever tiff was going on, was finished.

Sometimes I missed living at home. But then there were moments I was reminded of why I was glad I no longer lived at home.

A door closed in the background and then another. And soon I heard mom sigh. "Alright, what's going on?"

"I asked Amalia on a date," I came right out with it. Mostly because there was no point in stalling and also so that Dad would stop attempting to call me. The phone line beeped with his request. I declined. "I'm trying to organise a first date. I don't really know what to do. It has to be special. But not over the top."

"Aw," I could hear her smiling. "That's so sweet. Abby told me you two had connected. And Lucas doesn't have an issue with this?"

"No," our mother still had no idea what had gone down over a year ago. She just thought it had been a mutual split. "He told me I should go for it."

"That's sweet of him. Okay so, date ideas," she hummed thoughtfully. "What are her interests?"

"She likes old movies and music," I thought about what I'd learned so far. "She likes art. Oh she used to play softball. She has a sweet tooth and she wears odd socks."

I laughed to myself.

"Why don't you take her to a baseball game?" She suggested. "If she likes softball she probably likes baseball as well. There's a game this weekend. The 29th. Rangers verses Yankees at the Arlington stadium. It's a big one."

"In Texas?"

"You can borrow the jet?"

"I mean, I did say I didn't want it to be over the top."

"Yes," she drew out the word. "But a game isn't over the top. The jet might be a little bit flashy but you have the means to get her to Texas and there's no shame in using it. The point in a first date is to get to know someone. The big romantic gestures come later. Anniversaries and proposals. But there's nothing wrong with adding a little bit of extra effort in there either."

"I guess."

"Or you could take her out for dinner."

"No. It has to be better than that."

Mom was quiet for a minute. "She must be really important for you to put this much thought into it."

"She deserves thought. And effort."

"So do you honey," she said. "Let me know how it goes and what you decide, alright? The jet will be available if you need it."

"Thanks Mom. I love you."

We ended the call and I dropped the phone, still ignoring Dad's attempt to get Mom off the phone.

I went straight onto the laptop and began searching for tickets and prices for the baseball games on the last day of the regular season. It's not a bad idea at all.

My phone buzzed, two text messages coming in, one after the other. I picked it up and saw they were from Dad.

Talked to Mom. I'm proud of you dude. You're a good man.

Don't call again tonight.

Thanks Dad. I won't.

I felt restless after I'd decided on what to do. I couldn't seem to sleep at all. I walked around for a bit. I did a light work out. I cleaned. But it was useless. I even had a shower and relieved myself of pent up tension in a more intimate form. Sometimes it helped me nod off. But even that didn't work.

I got into bed again after I'd showered and didn't even bother with clothes. I was too hot and sleeping in the sheets with nothing on could be relaxing.

It was one of those small things that I appreciated about living alone. I opened my text messages and sent one to Amalia.

Hey. How are you?

I didn't want to write 'you up?' And sound like I was seeking out a booty call.

Her response was fast and my heart sped up as I settled back into the pillows and read it.

Hey. :) I'm good! How was work today? I'm surprised you're up. You must be tired.

Tired but can't sleep. You know how it is.

Absolutely. I'm reading at the moment. Sometimes it helps. I'm also listening to Bernie's sewing machine through the wall. 🙃

Oh that'll help you get to sleep. Haha. What are you reading?

Promise not to laugh?

Pinky swear.

Unfuck yourself by Gary John Bishop. It's a self help book.

You read self help books?

You promised not to laugh, Max.

I'm not. I swear. I just can't imagine why you need them. You're one of the most confident girl's I've ever met.

Yes but it's nice to refresh and remember self worth sometimes. I'm not immune to the occasional off day. One that really pulls me through is 'you must first accept that while there are things that have happened in your life that you had no say in, you are 100 percent responsible for what you do with your life in the aftermath of those events. Always, every time, no excuses.'

That's truthful. Anything in particular that's brought you down?

Oh no! I'm fine :) honest. I just read them so that it's always fresh in my mind.

I get that.

She took a minute to respond. I wondered if she wouldn't at all. My last message didn't exactly incite conversation.

I wondered if I should follow up with another question. Or I could leave her to read and stop pestering her at eleven at night.

So what are we doing this weekend?

I smiled.

It's a surprise. But you should bring comfortable clothes. Maybe a change for something more dressier if you want. Depends on where the evening takes us.

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. Cute comfortable or comfortable comfortable?

Could you be anything but cute?

And you think you're not good flirting 😉

I was just being truthful.

Here's another quote. Reminds me of you. 'Circumstances don't make the man; they only reveal him to himself'. You're smoother than you think Max.

I really do think that you're exceptionally sweet and intelligent. Let me know when you're tired and want to sleep so I can stop bothering you.

You're still not tired?

Slowly. Very slowly getting there.

Well I am seriously sleep texting at this point. You made me feel relaxed 😌 we can talk tomorrow if you want. Sleep well Max. xx

I read her message, smile on my lips, as I settled into the sheets and felt my heart hammering.