Nerd Girl (2 page)

While I tried to identify the intoxicating scent, I realized he was talking to me again.

“I’m so sorry … Are you okay?” He really did look very concerned. “Do you need me to call for an ambulance?”

I did a quick mental inventory of my body parts. Nothing felt misaligned or in pain. In a panic, I blurted out, “Oh God, no! No, please don’t. I’m fine. Really!”

The thought of sitting in an ambulance or having some emergency team tend to me in the open MS campus was mortifying.
My interview!
By now, I probably had less than ten minutes to get there. I would need to run to make it on time. I tried to gather the rest of my things with as much composure and dignity as my panicked state would allow me.

“I’m okay, you only just bumped me,” I replied, frazzled. “I’m late for an interview, though, so I have to run.” I stood up as straight as my 5’5” frame would let me and did a little shimmy, trying to shake myself out of my momentary state of shock. I brushed my white blouse and black pencil skirt down tidily, put my heel back on, and tried to pat and primp my long dark brown hair to make sure it wasn’t disheveled before my interview. “Really, I’m fine,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”

When I looked back up at Mr. Blue Eyes, I caught him watching me and noticed he had a slightly amused expression. He quickly caught himself and the furrowed brow returned. He spoke slowly with his head slightly tilted to his left. “Uh … I just hit you with my car.” He paused to let that realization sink in with me, because I was obviously behaving unlike any sane person would’ve after having been hit by a car. “Don’t you want to discuss it more and we can make sure you’re okay? I feel really terrible about this.”

I just stared back at him with a blank expression. His face was completely mesmerizing.
Car. Interview. Blue eyes. Car. Interview. Blue eyes. Shit! Late!

He placed a hand on each of my arms, steadying me, and looked into my eyes. His pupils moved back and forth, left to right. His face was so close I could feel his breath. He did the once over look down my body, pausing slightly at my legs, and back up to my eyes. Satisfied that I didn’t appear to have any injuries, he stared deeper into my eyes.

Neither of us moved.

If we were in a movie, someone would’ve pushed pause; it was as if that moment was frozen. I became suddenly and keenly aware of his proximity to me. I noticed how warm his hands were on my arms, yet ironically I felt goosebumps. Odd, considering that it was quite warm today, in the high seventies. He was more than “not bad,” he was unarguably attractive. Very attractive. He had English boy good looks, sandy brown hair, and a gorgeous, slightly crooked smile. And those eyes looked so intensely that they pierced right through me, holding me helpless in his gaze.
Hmm … and those lips …

He caught me looking at his mouth and he looked at mine in return.
What?
I licked my lips in an involuntary response, starting to feel flushed and a little off center. I felt breathless and I know my heart was thumping loud enough for him to hear. Maybe that car bumper hit me harder than I thought. Maybe it had hit me in the head as well.

“Here’s your laptop,” said the soccer player whom I’d just realized was still standing next to me.

Funny, I’d forgotten that anyone else was there. I nodded toward him and mumbled, “Thank you.”

He handed me my laptop. “The battery cover looks like it fell off, but it doesn’t seem otherwise damaged, at least as far as I can tell.”

The soccer player’s intrusion seemed to put the movie back on play. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until Mr. Blue Eyes released me and I exhaled. He looked as stunned as I felt. I’m not sure what force compelled me at that moment, but I softly caressed his right cheek with my hand. With gentle sternness, as if I were talking to a child, I whispered, “I’m okay.”

I’m not sure why I did that and the whole thing felt inappropriately intimate, but a strong need to reassure this man came over me. I don’t know why, since I was the one who’d been hit by the car, but for some reason, I felt the need to make him feel better. I wanted to reassure him and let him know that he hadn’t hurt me, so he could continue on with his day.

He backed up a few steps. He was tall, probably six feet plus an inch or two. It seemed like we’d been standing there for several minutes, but in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds.

I dazedly noticed traffic was starting to back up a little around the intersection with inquisitive faces peering from behind their steering wheels. In a moment of clarity, I remembered my interview.

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed. “I’m going to be late!” I quickly gathered my things, said my thank yous to both the soccer guy and Mr. Blue Eyes, and ran off.

I’m not sure why, but I turned around to take one last look at the scene of the accident. I guess I just wanted to reassure Mr. Blue Eyes again that I was okay. I waved goodbye with a few of my fingers and gave him a little smile. He looked surprised and perplexed by my erratic behavior and sudden departure. He probably thought I was nuts. His head was cocked a little to the left and his mouth was slightly open. I thought I heard a sort of gasping chuckle come out of his mouth. Ironically, the look on his face was that of someone trying to figure out what the hell had just run him over.

I thought I was the one that had just been hit by a car.

A few days later, on a Thursday afternoon, I got the call. It was Catherine Galer, the hiring manager for my potential new job. I began tapping my foot nervously under my desk.

You know how you sometimes just sense when something went really well and the situation was totally in your favor? After my interviews, that was the feeling I had walking out of Catherine’s door. Despite my little accident, I had made it to the interview on time, and I never did get any of those “gotcha!” questions I had worried so much about.

“Hi, Julia, I’m calling to give you some good news,” Catherine said. I could almost hear the smile on her face. “Our team discussed the interview and we’ve unanimously agreed that you’re the most qualified candidate for the role. If you’re still interested in the position, I would like to formally extend you an offer.”

I didn’t hesitate before I answered. I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Yes, I accept the position! I’m really excited! Thanks so much, Catherine.”

“Oh, that’s so great to hear!” she replied cheerfully. “I’ll reach out to HR and let them know your decision. You’ll get a formal offer via email from them and then we can figure out the transition details.”

“Okay, that sounds great.”

“What do you think would be a reasonable start date?”

“Maybe two or three weeks, would that be fair?” I asked tentatively. “I’m fairly certain my manager would agree to this.”

“That would be perfect. I’m heading out in a couple of weeks to the APJ and EMEA regions. Ideally, I’d like you to start before I leave so we can set up some deliverables you can work on while I’m out. I’ll get in touch with your manager and we can negotiate the transition details. I’m sure one of us will keep you posted.”

“Okay, great. Thanks again, Catherine.” I was positively bursting with excitement.

“We’re so excited to have you join our team, Julia! Speak to you soon.”

“Bye!” I hung up the phone and for the first time since Andrew and I broke up, I was feeling hopeful about the future. This was cause for celebration. I called my sister, Anna, to see if she was up to meeting for dinner and drinks at Betty’s tonight.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said buoyantly.

“Hey, Jules, what’s up? You actually sound happy about something.”

I rolled my eyes at her attempted sarcasm. I knew I hadn’t been exactly Comedy Central lately and I was starting to feel bad about it. “Well, I’ve got some good news for a change. I got the job!”

“Yay! I’m so excited for you! That is really great news!” Anna cried. I knew Anna’s enthusiasm was sincerely genuine. If anyone had ever had my back, it was Anna. Not only was she happy for me about my new job, but she also knew that this was going to help take my mind off of Andrew.

“I want to go out and celebrate! For the first time in months, I’m really happy about something!” I leaned back in my chair, resting my heels on my desk. “Do you want to grab dinner and drinks at Betty’s tonight?”

“Of course!” Anna exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Okay, how about we meet there at 6:30? I’ve got some things to finish up here and I just don’t think I can get there any earlier because of traffic.” That’s one thing that sucked about working at MS and living in or near downtown Seattle. You were a slave to the Hwy 520 floating bridge, where traffic sucked more often than not. MS employees heading home were mostly to blame for it.

“Okay, sounds great.”

“I’ll call to set up reservations.”

“Okay, bye. See you in a few hours.”

“Ciao.”

I started going through my email inbox, handling the more urgent ones first. I looked at my meetings for tomorrow and thankfully none of them required much planning or prep.
Good.
I didn’t feel much like working later tonight, especially after a couple of cocktails in me.

I looked out my office window and thought about my new job. I was moving out of the world of Marketing IT; I was now a Digital Relationship Marketing Manager. My mission in life, for the unforeseeable future, would be to drive online integrated marketing programs for the next big launch of our world famous operating system. It sounded seriously frightening and a part of me wondered what the hell I was thinking.

At the age of twenty-nine, working at MS on the global launch of Portals 8, was exactly where I wanted to be in my career. It was a dream opportunity. Even though I’ve been here for seven years, my experience has primarily been in IT program management, not marketing. I was content in my previous role, but I needed a change of scenery. Marketing was more dynamic, more fun, and let’s face it, Marketing’s where all the action is. Besides, it would help take my mind off of Andrew.

I liked to think that I made it as far as I have due to hard work and people recognizing all that I have to offer. In reality, I think some of it’s also luck. I’ve always had my professional career mapped out in my brain; I always tried to think two jobs ahead and consciously worked on making appropriate career choices along the way. Fortunately, things usually worked out in my favor. I never had much difficulty in my professional life. When it came to my career, things always fell into place somehow. My career was something I could control; it was something that I had always felt confident about.

The duct tape on my laptop, which was keeping my battery attached, was picking up more lint.
Time to change the baby’s bandage.
I found my thoughts drifting back to my unexpected encounter with the beautiful, blue-eyed stranger. Over the last several days, I’d thought about him often. His soulful and penetrating eyes were difficult to forget. Since I ran off so quickly, I never got his name. I was resigned to the fact that I’d likely never see him again and for some reason that made me a little sad. I inhaled a deep breath and sighed loudly.

Unlike my career, my love life was all about failed relationships and missed opportunities. I was so focused on getting to my interview I couldn’t even remember to ask a hot guy for his name after he hit me with his car—how was I ever going to find a husband?!

I couldn’t seem to get anything right relationship-wise. Like everything in my life, I wanted to put love and relationships into a predictable project plan. I’d feel so much more in control if I could do that, but love and work are two very different things, and relationships didn’t behave how I intended.

I always saw myself becoming that woman in her mid-to-late thirties with two kids and a career she loved, sharing everything with the man of her dreams. We would go on vacations twice a year, and, if we could afford it, we would send our kids to private school. I would become a soccer mom and consider quitting my job and starting my own consulting company. Eventually, I’d have enough people on staff that I would be able to dictate my own schedule and still have time to volunteer for the school auction.

For the vision to become a reality, I needed to have my first child no later than thirty-five. That annoying biological clock really started ticking loudly this year. Soon I’ll be saying goodbye to my twenties and the idea of turning thirty with no man or even any potential prospects was freaking me out. It would take nine months to carry a baby. Even before that, everyone knew it took six to twelve months to allow your body’s hormones to regulate after getting off the pill so you could
get
pregnant. Of course, you also wanted a year, minimum, to be just you and your husband as newlyweds before adding the stress of a new baby. Now this assumed you had someone, preferably your husband, to get pregnant with. This meant that I would need to get married before I was thirty-three. If a wedding were going to be everything I dreamed it would be, it required at least a one year engagement.
And
, if fate should have it and I found the right man, the average dating period prior to engagement was usually a couple of years. That meant if I had any hope of keeping to my schedule, I needed to meet someone before I turned thirty and that someone needed to be “the one.”