Work has been brutal this week, and if I were in any other headspace I would be ready to throw my cell from the forty-seventh floor of this high rise. But when I’m not focused on closing deals and making clients happy, every other thought is consumed by Courtney. Even though we haven’t been able to see each other since the night she spent at my place, the texts, the phone calls, and the constant replay of her sleeping in my arms has been enough to push me through.

It will be knock off time in less than ten minutes, and I plan on having a cell phone free and Court filled weekend; I’ve busted enough ass this week that nobody should have an issue with me going off the grid. If I’m honest, I want to be able to say I’m going to spend the weekend in bed with my girl. And while there’s a lot to be said about the last time we were together, we’re probably still a few weekends off the labeling and the sex.

The shrill ring of my office phone interrupts my thoughts, I look down and notice my mother’s landline flashing across the screen. She must’ve been trying to get through to my cell.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, answering on the third ring.

“Oh, you answered. I wondered if I would get your assistant.”

“I don’t have an assistant.”

“Maybe you should, and then you would call me back or answer my messages.”

“How are you?” I say, ignoring her sarcasm.

“I would be better if my only child visited me, but I guess that’s just not high on his priority list.” My mom is the original ball breaker, giving me shit about anything she can to make sure I’m always grounded and not getting caught up in what she calls the whirlpool of life. In hindsight, I’m grateful, but when she lays the guilt on thick, I know I’ll be making it up to her in more ways than one.

“Mom, you know I’ve been busy,” I say, excusing myself.

“Yes, I know how life gets. I’m so busy these days, too. I’ve had a date every night this week.”

“Mom,” I shout through the phone. I know she’s joking. She does this all the time just to punish me for not returning her phone calls or going to Jersey often enough to see her.

Her laugh travels through the phone, and I can’t help but laugh with her knowing my mom is one of a kind.

“So, can you come this weekend?” My mind immediately goes to Courtney, and I groan internally at the possibility of not seeing her at all.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her.

“Yeah, honey. I just need someone to take a look at the pipe under the sink.” My mom doesn’t date, and if she does, I have never noticed or he’s just never been important enough to bring him around. Every day she would tell me she was raising me to be the man of this house, and I took that with me and applied it to everything I did. I made it my duty to teach myself almost everything I could to make my mom proud. By the time I was fifteen, I was a great student, and an all-around jack of trades. The only problem with this is, now my mother doesn’t let anyone touch anything in her house but me.

“Can I come tomorrow?” I ask

“Of course, if you can spare the time?”

“Don’t change your tune now,” I joke. “You were barely going to let me off the hook five minutes ago.”

“I’m your mother, that’s my job.”

“Do you want me to bring anything?”

“A girlfriend, maybe? Have you found one of those yet? Anyone that can stand you enough to have your babies? Give me grandkids.”

“Geez Mom, you don’t mince your words do you?”

“Who’s got time for that?”

“I might have found her,” I say, surprising my mom. She goes silent, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made jokes out of something serious. I can hear her brain ticking over, deciding whether to believe me or not.

“Bring her tomorrow then,” she challenges. “If you’re not lying, she’ll be here with you.”

I’m not going to backpedal, but I am going to be honest. “No can do, Mom.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re, just not there yet. Well, she’s definitely not, and I’m still trying to make her see we’d be good together. I don’t think telling her she could be the love of my life is going to work in my favor.”

“If she can’t see what a catch you are, then she’s not worth it,” my mother says defensively. My mom is my biggest fan, and she does often forget there are two sides to every story where I’m concerned.

“We’ll get there,” I say trying to diffuse the situation. “There’s stuff she has to work out, I think. Then the odds might be in my favor.”

“So, will she come or not?”

“The chances are highly unlikely, but I’ll ask her when I speak to her next.”

“But, you’ll definitely come,” she questions.

“Your favorite child will be there.”

“You’re my only child Elliot, my options are limited.”

I chuckle. “Bye Mom.”

The second I put the receiver down, my office door opens and a version of Courtney I’ve never seen stands before me. She’s wearing a baby blue button-down dress, stopping mid-thigh and showing off her gorgeous legs. Her smile is large, cheeks are red, and she radiates happiness that has me itching to kiss her, hoping it’s contagious. Seeing her in the flesh has me wanting to hold her and refuse to let go. I stand up as she walks toward and around the desk. I wait for her to talk first, to explain her visit. The shock of her initiating anything between us always renders me speechless. Texts are one thing, making the effort to find out where my office is located, is something entirely different.

Every step feels like it takes minutes. Eventually, she’s standing right in front of me and hurling her arms around my neck. I hold her petite frame against me, my arms circling around her waist tightly.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my head buried in her hair and my voice muffled.

“I’m better than okay.” We stand in silence until she moves back slightly and meets my gaze. “I’m so sorry to bother you at work, but Evie was busy, and I wanted to talk to someone.” She shakes her head furiously. “Wait, that didn’t come out right. I wanted to come and see you, but I was trying to play it cool. I called Evie to distract me and she was no help, she gave me your office location and hung up.” Whatever adrenaline was running through her body pushing her to come and see me is slowly fading. I can see her starting to become self-conscious, and I know I need to push past my self-serving questions of why she was trying to play it cool and attempt to make her comfortable.

“Sit down,” I say, gesturing to the office chair behind me. I notice the time is well past five, and I pack up around her. We can talk on our way to whatever the next destination will be. As long as she’s here, the rest is flexible. “Let me just tie some loose ends here, and we can walk and talk.” I put files away, write up a to-do list for Monday, and switch my computer off while Court’s eyes follow my every move. “Come on, let’s go.”

As soon as we hit the sidewalk, away from the curious eyes and hushed whispers, we both sigh in relief.

“Everybody is really stuffy in there,” she says.

I smile at her observation. “Commercial real estate is hardly the breeding ground for the party animals of the world.”

“You seem okay,” she responds.

“Just okay?”

“Well, I would have to party with you to confirm or deny whether you are in fact a party animal.”

“I think you missed Elliot the party animal by a few years,” I inform her.

“Damn, I was hoping tonight we could celebrate. Maybe bring out the party animal in you.”

“What are you talking about? What are we celebrating?”

“Well, it’s not really a big deal, now that I think about it.”

“Hey. Hey, none of that,” I chide. “What is it?”

“You know how I’ve been doing the design course?”

I nod, in encouragement.

“I’ve gotten results back for a few of the assignments I’ve already submitted.” I already know she’s going to tell me she aced them, she’s the type of woman that works hard and it pays off. The only problem is, she doesn’t see that.

“I don’t know how, but I managed to pass them all with flying colors,” she says in disbelief. “I didn’t think I’d retained any of the information I learned in design school or understood any of the new stuff they were sending through.”

“Obviously you underestimate yourself?”

“It happens,” she says honestly. “It feels really good to have something to be excited and happy about. When I received the email, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” I throw my arm around her shoulders and bring her head close to my lips. I kiss the top of her head with adoration and awe. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much that means to me.”

She slides her arm around the back of my torso. “Enough to bring back Elliot the party animal?”

“If it means my status moves higher than okay, then yes. We can celebrate any way you want to.”

She moves her index finger to the middle of her mouth like she’s thinking hard about what it is we should do. “Are you sure? We can do anything I want?” she taunts. I begin to feel apprehensive worried she’s going to think of something crazy.

“Can we go to your place and watch movies?” she says, surprising me. “Maybe we can have some beer, order food and invite Lior and Evie over?” I’m torn between wanting her all to myself, but feeling hopeful that we will actually be somewhat together in front of other people.

“Will you be sleeping over, again?” I ask bluntly.

“Sure,” she says. “I probably can’t stay in the morning though.”

“Oh.” Disappointment settles in my chest when I realize even if I asked her to Mom’s she wouldn’t be able to come. “It’s cool, I understand.”

She tugs at my hand to stop me from walking. “Actually, you don’t. Understand, I mean.”

I move us to the side of the walkway. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, you are trying to be understanding, and I can see that, but you don’t understand why I can’t stay in the morning and for that I’m sorry.”

“But you’re not going to tell me, are you?” The tone of my voice is harsh and abrupt. “Not today, no,” she confirms.

I run my hands up and down the length of my face in frustration. I knew this would be hard, I want to put the effort in, but the difference between ten minutes ago and now makes me wonder if the progress is an illusion.

“Look, I can just go home. I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m pissed, but I missed you this week.” I reach for her hand, just like before. “We’ll get to where we need to be, and until then I’ll do my best to understand.”

“You’re too good for me, you know? Any other guy would just give up.”

“Maybe it’s time you realize I’m not any other guy.”