Chapter Ten-Feelings

The warmth of the August sun clung to the air on Friday afternoon. Amber enjoyed the bristling commotion of pedestrians and commuters scattering to get home for the weekend. It instilled a sense of solidarity, knowing she was part of the scuttle. Part of Seattle.

Her nerves had settled as the week progressed. Mr. Clark was a decent man but allowed for no explanations. When he stomped into the office on Wednesday morning with a stony stare and a pointed finger to his office, her stomach dropped. An excuse, he said, is a coward’s defense. The reprimand still stung slightly. It turned out that both of them missed a meeting that morning. Amber had jotted down the meeting details and was supposed to give it to him when he returned from lunch, but the sticky note attached itself to the back of a file and it slipped her mind completely. Never give excuses, always give solutions, was his response when she tried to explain. If nothing else, the encounter would ensure they never miss another meeting again.

She appreciated that Mr. Clark moved on quickly. If she made a mistake, he would point it out and allow her to fix it. He didn’t hold it against her, but she knew he would not take kindly to pointing out the same oversight twice. By Friday, she was comfortable with her surroundings and her boss seemed satisfied with her progress. She considered it a very successful first week.

The walk home was peculiarly therapeutic. Slowing her pace, she unwound from the week, taking in the sights and smells of Seattle’s humming streets. The honking cars protesting when an older lady dared to slow down for a yellow light. A trio of construction workers in dusty workwear strolled past, cementing their plans for the game tomorrow. According to one of them, the Mariners were due to kick some Royal ass.

She considered her walks between the apartment she shared with Tina and the office as her daily exercise. So when she got to the apartment, Amber felt she earned a reward. Dumped her bag on the kitchen counter, she switched on the coffeemaker. “Hey, Tina?” She called. “Ice-coffee?”

“God, yes. With whipped cream.” Amber heard the telltale chime of a laptop shutting down. “How was your day?” Tina asked as she emerged from her room and plopped down on the couch.

“Great,” Amber smiled as she ground the beans, measured the grounds, and filled the water reservoir. “We had a meeting with Plant the World. They do amazing work.”

“I’ve heard of them.” Tina nodded. “Did they make that goal? What was is it? A million trees in a month?”

Amber plopped some ice in two glasses, poured in the hot coffee, filled it up with cold milk, and squirted generous mounds of whipped cream. “They did five.”

Tina frowned. “Only five trees? That is underwhelming.”

“Million, Tina. They planted five million in just a month.” Amber walked over and handed Tina a glass of cold caffeine.

“Ok, that is impressive.” Tina lapped the cream before she downed half.

Amber sat down and explained the project in more detail. “We are setting a campaign for next year. Sixty million trees in a year.”

“And I assume you have added my name to the volunteer list? I can plant a few, no problem.”

Amber smiled and got up quickly. She turned for the kitchen, gulping the coffee as she walked. She placed the empty glass in the sink, turned slowly, and braced. “A hundred.” At Tina’s blank stare, she continued, hurriedly. “Really, it’s not that much. It’s twelve trees a month.” She shrugged. “Not that bad, right?”

Tina just shook her head, stood. “You should have put me up for five hundred.”

Pouting, she followed Tina. “I’ll help,” she offered.

“Damn right you will.” Tina scoffed. “And just for that, I get the shower first.”

Fair enough.

Amber walked out of the bedroom dressed in dark, form-fitting jeans, a pleated halter neck top in the color of time-worn pennies. Stopping in front of Tina’s doorway, a plan formed. “You and the Adonis can join us if you’d like.”

Tina pushed the mascara wand back, looked over, and smiled sweetly. “Sure, a double date sounds fun! You guys take the front seats and we’ll take the back. It would be like high school.”

Feeling a little putout, Amber frowned. “No need to be mean.”

“I love you, but I am getting some long overdue romance this evening. Since I have to plant a hundred trees next year, I better get a run on my social life.” Turning in the full-length mirror inspecting her appearance, she nodded once and Amber had to agree. Tina wore yet another tiny dress, this time in dark purple, and as always, looked nothing less than divine. The dress was a dark contrast to her creamy ivory skin.

“Fine,” Amber sighed. She was hoping to defuse the first date tension with a group outing. “But you know the drill.”

Picking up her purse, Tina hooked it over her shoulder and strolled past Amber. “I wouldn’t dare forget. Text location upon arrival and status updates few hours.”

“Just a thumbs up would do it.” Amber managed before Tina closed the door. Apparently, being informed of a hundred tree deadline spoiled moods. She cringed, hoping Devyn would see it differently.

He was waiting next to a very sexy car. The pearl gray Audi A7 almost sparkled under the streetlights. Devyn was busy texting on his phone. The subtle vibration from her purse concluded he was letting her know that he’s outside.

“Nice car.” She motioned and smiled. “Hello, Devyn.”

His dimples flashed. “Hello, Amber.” He opened the passenger door for her, waited for her to climb in before he bent down, and said, “You look amazing.” He didn’t give her time to respond, closed the door, and walked around the hood to the driver’s side. Following his movements, she noticed they dressed similarly. He looked delectable in dark jeans, dark shoes, and a burnt umber shirt.

“Just so you know,” she said as he got in and buckled up. “You have to plant a hundred trees next year.”

Confused, he asked, “I do?”

Amber could feel the heat snaking up her neck. “Yeah, I needed volunteers.” She smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He laughed and patted her leg. “Sure, Amber. I‘ll plant you some trees.” On the last pat, he didn’t remove his hand again.

The connection was there. Amber was certain of it, felt it. With his hand, warm and natural on her thigh, sending little jolts up her system, there had to be something. She just wasn’t exactly sure what the connection meant yet. But she was going to give it, and Devyn a fair chance. Take it slow and see where they end up. She would not complain if this ended at the end of a petal-strewn aisle. But she could admit that if it ended in friendship, she’ll be disappointed but not broken.

And in that, she supposed, lies the problem.