MARI
"No, I don’t want to speak to a supervisor. Can’t you just tell me?" I pleaded with the associate on the phone, but she didn’t listen and placed me on hold.
I rested my head in my hands on the kitchen table while light jazz music filtered into the speaker, and even the ocean view from Pierce’s kitchen didn’t soothe my aggravation. A new day dawned on Pelican Bay, but I couldn’t get the memory of my kiss with Oliver the afternoon before out of my mind.
The fantasy man in question strolled into the space smiling and dressed impeccably as he was every morning by 7:30. I liked to get a fresh start on the day as well, but I usually did it in a messy bun and yoga pants. At least for the first hour. Jeans shouldn’t be worn before nine. There were a few good parts to losing everything and moving to Guatemala. I never learned the benefits and comfort of yoga pants when I lived in San Francisco.
I groaned, and he stopped, giving me a particular expression. "What?" he mouthed.