No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Girlfriend? Just days ago, he was all about dating me, talking about getting married, and then, he had a girlfriend. Thinking about how eager he seemed to settle down, I realized he must've moved on fast after I turned him down. That was just as well. It meant I could face him without awkwardness or worry.

I briskly tossed my lunch box into the trash can and waited for him.

Deborah came over in less than two minutes, not having finished her chicken parmesan, probably too bummed out about her crush being off the market to eat.

"Ugh," she sighed as soon as she arrived, "all the good ones are always off the market, aren't they? Not even a chance for a little flirt."

Her words had me cracking up. "Deborah, thank goodness you were born a girl. You'd bankrupt yourself chasing after people if you were a guy." As I said so, Ernest walked our way, wearing a black T-shirt, cargo pants, and leather boots, his posture exuding confidence. The man was a walking pheromone bomb.

"Hot damn!" Deborah exclaimed. "Look at that swagger. He's just, wow. Imagine getting a hug from those arms.'

I tapped her on the head with my finger. "Ease up on the daydreams, will you?"

"Seriously though, what kind of girl deserves a total catch like him? I'm curious," Deborah mused, unable to take her eyes off Ernest.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask Ernest yourself?" I suggested as I headed toward Ernest.

After all, he was the client's lighting consultant, and I should ensure he had everything he needed. If the lighting weren't perfect, I'd be in trouble. Deborah quickly followed, whispering, "Just being close enough to catch a whiff would be a treat."

I shook my head. After two years of working together, I never realized how thirsty she was.

Ernest, Graham, and I got to work. Since Graham had emailed him the details, Ernest got straight to adjusting the lights. He quickly fixed the first issue, impressing us all.

"Brilliant work, as always." Deborah clapped, sounding like his number one fan.

Ernest then approached me and asked, "Where's your electrical room?"

"Huh?" I was confused.

het

"The lights are heavily affected by the power supply. I need to check your current and wiring, and it'd be best to have your electrician here, too," Ernest explained.

Without a word, I called our electrician to meet us in the electrical room.

Graham took Deborah to check another problem area while I led Ernest to the electrical room. Both of us were silent.

It was an awkward silence, quite uncomfortable.

I broke the silence. "I thought you were a taxi driver."

"I am. Part-time," he replied smoothly.

Ethel had mentioned he was capable, and seeing him then, I believed it.

A lighting technician with

engineering skills must be well-paid, yet he still worked part-time. There must be a reason, probably financial, for him to live in such a modest place as Ethel's.

Noticing his clothes, plain but somehow perfect on him, I thought about how some people could make anything look good.

"People should dress well," they say, but Ernest seemed to have the knack to make even the simplest outfit look stylish.

"Do I have something on my face?" Ernest's question snapped me back to reality.

"No, nothing," I quickly replied,

thinking of Deborah's crush on him,

and added, "You might not want

Deborah to know we know each other."

"Why's it a secret that we know each other?" His question caught me off guard.