Research: Romance

finally

I had an outline by the end of the week, just as promised. It was rough, very rough, but the pride and Red Bull coursing through my veins as I walked up to Desi first thing in the morning only elated me. She had a knowing sort of smile that made me even more eager to impress her.

"Would you like to see?" I wiggled my eyebrows playfully, stroking my laptop.

"My precious," She whispered stretching out her hands.

We crowded next to each other behind her desk as I pulled up the outline and story board. My laptop hummed as it turned on, and the screen saver popped up making the two of us squeal in excitement. Though it was implied by my apparent lack of sleep and the ratty bun on top of my head that I had worked all week on this non-stop, Desi broke her trance to peer over at me in slight judgement. I just made a face and shrugged. She shook her head. We both focused on the screen as the document pulled up.

"Okay, concept:" I began, pushing my hands over the screen before she could read anything. "I was thinking after what you said, about meeting that guy at the convenience store, and writing about what happened. Then I got to thinking about the phrase: write what you know. Now, stay with me here, okay, because this is going to be weird--"

Just as I said this Henry, my PR person, walked through the door dressed in the same pressed suit and loafers he always wears. His hair is combed neatly, a few strands by his face tucked behind one of his ears. It's a look that I know sends Desi's heart a-flutter. Not that she would ever admit it.

Henry was too "corporate," too "vanilla" for her. I'm sure that whenever she saw him walk in a room, she had flashbacks to freshman year of college: stuck between two business bros in chinos talking about their 5-year plans. Well, that was until she saw his 90's heart-throb hair, and remembered the sweaters he wears exclusively in the wintertime.

If Henry walks in the room wearing jeans and a sweater, Desi's soul leaves her body for a second.

He furrowed his eyebrows, taking in the last words I said, and the position Desi and I were in. Upon noticing the computer between us, all topics of business left his brain and he rushed to the side of the desk, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Well, it's not a BOGO on puke-green loafers, but it is the next best thing," Desi retorted, passing him a half-annoyed glance.

"I suppose for you that would be a clearance sale on red horn-rimmed glasses and stuffed toy poodles." Henry passed her a false half-smile, knowing that such things would make her Alt-indie-folk heart shrivel into pieces.

Desi adjusted her glasses as if to make a point of them not being, in the slightest, horn-rimmed, "Well, you've got me all figured out, don't you, Hairy?"

"Henry." He gritted.

"Guys stop flirting! The vibe is seriously uncomfortable." I nudge Desi's shoulder with mine.

"We aren't flirting!" They both shouted, looking at me horrified at the suggestion.

I rolled my eyes, making a note-to-self to draft a book and make the characters behave the exact way they do. After they read it, we'll see if they think the same thing. In fact, if this idea tanks, I could just publish a series of interactions they've had, and I'd make a million dollars the first day. 

"Okay. Sure. Mhmm. Anyway, let's focus on my idea. I have really got something here."

Desi and Henry glare at each other for a moment, both looking disgusted with one another, before turning back to my computer. I swipe it off the desk and move to the other side of the room. Making note that Henry doesn't move away from Desi when I do. I try not to make a face, but I do, and Henry rolls his eyes at me when he catches it. The detail makes me smile.