Jennifer Lohmann - Dating By Numbers

“Oh,” she said, laughing as she picked up another forkful of salad. “So that’s the real story behind the salad. It’s not about the chips, it’s about the beer.”

“Well,” he said, hedging. His trim beard hid a small dimple when he smiled. She’d never been close enough to notice before. “It’s really about both. To be honest, the salad allows me to justify all sorts of things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” she asked, still charmed by the small dimple.

“Like this Diet Coke.” His brows were raised as he lifted the can to his lips and took a sip. “Hey, this isn’t so bad actually. I think I like it better warm. It’s better than warm water, which is what I was going to drink along with my coffee, since you took my Coke.”

“Where were you going to eat your lunch? Obviously not here.”

“Wish I was there instead?” One of the things she had always liked about Jason was that she could hear the teasing in his voice. She rarely had to wonder if he was serious. It made all their interactions easier for her.

But she still said, “Of course not.” Teasing voices didn’t mean there weren’t hurt feelings. She knew all about faking that everything was okay. “Curious, is all.”

“I was going to eat in my car, spiking my blood with caffeine from Coke and coffee, and listening to my audiobook. But this is better.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Thank you for the salad. I appreciate it.”

“There’s a cafeteria in the basement, you know, for when you don’t have lunch. We’ve gone to get coffee there.”

“I know.” She pushed the last of her salad greens around to get them coated in dressing, then speared them up on her fork.

“What’s your reason for not going down to get a salad or sandwich? I’m hoping it’s as fun as your reason for keeping warm Diet Coke in your office.”

Fun. People almost never used that word to describe her, and Jason using it made her smiley inside. “It’s not. Fun, I mean. Or convoluted, which is the other way to describe my soda reasoning. But when it gets to be early afternoon and I’ve not eaten lunch yet and I have a pile of work on my desk, it seems easier to keep working than to quit and feed myself. After all, dinner’s getting closer.”

“Well, I’m a three-squares-a-day kind of guy. Usually I pack my lunch. You’re lucky.”

“Yes.” She closed the lid of her salad container and picked up the roll. “Want to share?”

“No, that’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t have a knife, so she used the back of a fork to spread the butter around.

He was throwing away his trash when a flash on her phone screen distracted them both. He probably recognized the icon, and she didn’t want to deal with it right now, or hear his questions, so she slapped her hand on the phone and flipped it over, screen side down.

“I know what that is,” he said. “You don’t have to hide it.”

“It’s not important,” she lied. The paucity of responses she got in online dating meant that every small response took on a magnitude that far outweighed its actual importance. She knew it, and still that icon called to her. Look at me! I might be the one!

“I’d want to look at it,” he said, not moving from his spot near her desk. They were both staring at the Hello Kitty on the back of her phone.

“It’s either a message agreeing to meet me for drinks tonight, or it’s not. It’s a binary answer, so nothing to get too worked up over.” As soon has Jason left her office, she would flip that phone over and learn which it was. But right now, she used her hands to put the last of the roll in her mouth. Giving them something to do other than flip the phone over.

“It’s not really binary,” he said, probably just needling her. “Maybe the fellow is offering you drinks tomorrow night. Or dinner. Or meeting for coffee on Sunday.”

“Coffee this Sunday would be okay. That’s open on my schedule. No drinks tomorrow night. And I don’t know the man well enough to commit the time necessary for dinner. I have a grant application to finish and not a lot of time left to do so.”

“Wait.” Realization dawned on his face. “Do you have times set aside when you’ll go on dates and, if it’s not one of those times, you won’t go?”

“I’m busy. I assume the men are busy, too. I’m respectful of their time, and I hope they’re respectful of mine.”

“Respect isn’t an exciting way to start a relationship. Shouldn’t you want your heart to flutter or tingle or whatever romantic nonsense it is that people talk about?”

She tilted her head to get a different view of him as he was sitting back down in the chair. He’d talked about online dating being fun, how it was about getting to meet new people. It had never occurred to her that he might be looking for love at first sight or some sort of off the charts chemistry. Who besides her parents did that in real life?

And look where that had gotten her parents.

“Tingles would be nice, but respect is a better start. No matter how much you want in someone’s pants, the morning after will be awkward without respect.”

Something she said must have surprised him, because he blinked a couple times, then barked out a laugh. “Mornings after are generally awkward. And, if we’re being frank, being in someone’s pants doesn’t necessarily mean a morning after.”

It was her turn to laugh and she giggled. “This is not a work-related or even lunch-related conversation.”

“No,” he said with a big smile, “but it has everything to do with the guy who messaged you, and he’s who I’m really curious about.”

“Ha,” she said, perhaps even with a smile. “There’s no way I’m going to talk about Waterski25. It’s not happening.”

“What’s your profile name?”

“No,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“I’ll tell you what mine is.”

“No.” She was still smiling.

“Do you have a good profile picture? Did you fill out the ‘last read’ section down at the bottom? Where did you say that you hang out?”

“No, no and no.” Her voice sounded girlish and flirty, even to her own ears, but she was having fun and didn’t know how to sound serious again, not with Jason teasing her.

“No, you don’t have a good profile picture?”

“Oh, get out of here.” Her chair rolled as she pushed a hand against his hip. “We each have lots of work to do, and I hope to have a date tonight.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, backing away. “Next time, I’m bringing doughnuts and you’re showing me your profile picture.”

“I’ll take the doughnuts, but no way on the profile picture. And no questions about my online dating profile.”

“Come on. I’ll answer any of your questions about online dating. We can compare notes.”

“Get outta here.” She waved him away. And, with a flick of his hand at his forehead, Jason went.

He really did have a cute butt. And the cargo pants he always wore hugged that cute butt nicely.

She shouldn’t be looking at his cute butt. He didn’t fit her algorithm. She didn’t have to look at his profile to know that.

* * *

JASON WAS SMILING as he walked out of Marsie’s office. If someone had told him yesterday that prim and starchy Marsie Penny would use the words “someone’s pants” while at work, he would have asked when pot had become legal in North Carolina. Right now, he just wished he was still in her office, flirting and joking, rather than walking out to put together a bookshelf in some guy’s office.

At least he knew she had long fingers. He’d felt every inch of her hand when she’d put her palm against him and gave him a slight push. Elegant fingers, just like she was elegant in every other aspect.