It seems almost prophetic as I walk into the office, chugging what’s already my second coffee of the day. It’s Wednesday, and of course the local radio station is cranking it loud. I don’t wanna work, I want to bang on the drum all day . . ..

“How nearly appropriate,” I mutter to myself, half slinging my backpack onto my desk. Looking up, I see Tyler, one of the other coders. “Hey Tyler, you mind turning that down?”

“Oh lighten up Kat, it’s Hump Day!” Tyler, who isn’t facing a deadline and certainly isn’t worried about proving himself in this industry, calls back. “If you want, I can change it. Maybe some Rihanna on repeat? Work, work, work!”

I give him a glare that says I’m ready to work, not joke around. “As soon as the ode to Wednesday ends, can you turn it down though? I gotta focus and get this done.”

“Will do,” Tyler says. “Hey, Kat?”

“Yeah?”

“Kick some ass Friday. You know . . . because you’re awesome.”

I smile, feeling good that the guys around here support me. “Thanks Tyler.”

I sit down, reviewing the results of my last bug check. With a hundred thousand lines of code, it’s a bitch to wrap my head around. Until now, it’s been a matter of sending the app to various beta testers who put it through its paces, and then tracking down the errors they find.

But no amount of beta testing is going to be able to catch everything, so I hunker down, obsessively looking at my notes and trying to hunt down which lines need to be adjusted. It’s hard, stressful work, and I’m running out of time.

Part of me knows I shouldn’t stress. Lots of programs are released without being perfect. That’s what updates and patches are for. But I really want to make sure this is good right off the bat so it doesn’t get a bad rap.

Still, it’s slow, dull work, and my mind keeps going to thoughts of Derrick. Since my talk with Elise where I realized how hard I was falling, and our subsequent confessions of ‘I love you’, we’ve texted constantly, even as he’s given me time to do work. Pic exchanges helped some, but damn there’s no substitute of being in his arms.

The day wears on, lunch scarfed while I try to focus, but by the time six o’clock rolls around, my eyes are half crossed and I’m needing a break. Firing up my browser, I go to the website that lets me listen in to Derrick, ready for my own Love Whispering on my headphones.

“Good evening, it’s my personal second favorite day of the week, Hump Day Wednesday,” Derrick says, making me grin. At least someone enjoys Wednesdays, even if it’s just for a corny opening joke.

“What’s your favorite day of the week?” Susannah asks. “Friday?”

“Nope,” Derrick replies. “Saturday. Get to sleep in, watch cartoons in my PJs, and have the whole day and night to do whatever, or whoever, I want.”

You mean you have all evening to spend with me, if the last month or so has been any indication, I think. I like Saturdays too.

Susannah gives a grade-school-worthy “Ooh!” and her delight at Derrick’s joke is palpable.

“Tonight’s show is about something that could even be more important than actual bedroom performance,” Derrick says.

“Wait, there’s something more important?”

“Yep. What’s the point of having all the best tricks in the toolbox if you never get a chance to show them off?” Derrick asks. “What I mean, of course, is flirting and the art of meeting someone. Now, unless you get all your dates off of Craigslist, you gotta actually talk to someone and meet them. That takes guts and sometimes reading signals. Not everyone has a blinking sign on their chest that says ‘take me to bed, you big stud.’”

“You and I must go to very different parties then,” Susannah quips. “Personally, I just have to say one word . . . yes.”

I giggle, Susannah’s funny sometimes. Normally she’s not, but recently, she’s been a lot more playful as Derrick’s been more straight talking, less flirty.

“Maybe that works for you,” Derrick says, chuckling, “but for a lot of us, we need some help. I sure did.”

“You?” I ask in stereo with Susannah. “How?”

“Way back when, I developed a crush on one of the girls in my school. She was pretty, a social leader, played on the girl’s volleyball team, all that. I was a sophomore and basically ate, slept, and breathed football. Didn’t have much practice talking to the opposite sex. Needless to say, she left me tongue-tied.”

“Oh really? Mr. Love Whisperer didn’t know what to say?”

“Nope. Every time I had a chance to talk to her, I found myself acting stupid or posing awkwardly like I was Mr. Chill. In the end, I lost my chance. She started dating a guy, and they stayed together until they both graduated. That’s okay, I’ve moved on and things are great, but lesson learned. Take the shot! I never even knew if she liked me back because I didn’t know how to read her signs or if I was giving out any signs myself other than a Wyle E. Coyote ‘Help!’ sign. Anyway, let’s get to some callers. Who’s up first, Suz?”

“First up, we’ve got Rich.”

“How’re you doing, Rich?”

The voice that comes on has to be partly played up, this guy sounds like he just came out of a Dukes of Hazzard re-run. “Well D, I done got me an issue. You see, there’s this lady that I see quite often, actually she’s my hair stylist.”

“So you see her how often?” Derrick asks, and I lean forward, forgetting my work.

“About twice a month, but every time I swear she’s lookin’ at me like she’s interested. I mean, I know she’s single, a little older than me but not too much, and she’s as purty as they come. But I don’t want to make it awkward if I approach her and she says no, know what I mean? I mean, I’ve got one of those heads of hair that just needs a good touch, and she’s about the only one who can keep me from just saying fuck it and shaving the whole thing off.”

The call continues, with Susannah taking most of the lead on that one. “A lot of how women flirt can be almost subtle, and it’s a combination of things,” she says. “For example . . . Derrick, describe what I’m doing.”

“You just tossed your hair over your shoulder,” Derrick says, and inside I feel a little jealous.

“And now?”

“You did the same thing.”

“Right, but this time, I smiled and kept eye contact for longer. You see, when a woman is interested in a man, we usually play it like . . . well Rich, do you fish?”

“Who doesn’t like to fish?”

“That’s up for another debate,” Derrick says. “But go ahead, Suz.”

“Sometimes we try to play it like a fisherman trying to get that big bass to latch onto the hook. If we just throw ourselves out there, the fish knows either the bait’s bad or it’s just a trap to get them on a big fucking hook, right? But if you play it too hard, the fish will lose interest and move on to something easier. So sometimes teasing a man along to see if they’re really interested is the best way. But Rich, you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“And if there’s a big fucking hook in the middle of the bait?”

“Some people call that marriage,” Derrick jokes, and even I have to laugh at that one. “Seriously though, sounds like good advice. If you think she’s interested, and you’re obviously interested, go for it. Not saying you have to show up next time singing Alan Jackson for her, but hell man, call her up and ask if she wants to get a cup of coffee or go to dinner. Worst thing that could happen is she says no. Best thing . . . well, there’s a lot of great things that can happen too. Even with big hooks.”

The calls continues, and as I listen, I notice a trend. I realize the show is about flirting and how to ask the opposite sex out, but I can’t shake the idea of Susannah flirting with Derrick, even if it’s for the radio. Normally, I’m not the jealous, possessive type, but damn . . . I’m ready to kick some ass when the song break comes on and I fire off a text to Derrick.

How’s the show coming along?

Fun, but I can’t wait until its over. Getting awkward.

Relief. He’s upfront about what’s happening, which means he’s just doing this professionally. I can deal with that. Me2. OK, gonna try and work. Call U after show.

Reassured a little, the show comes back on and I turn back to my code. “Okay everyone, after spending the last hour or so talking about how ladies’ show attraction, let’s talk about how men do it.”

“Besides popping a stiffy, you mean.”

“Obviously,” Derrick says.

“Well, if that’s the case, since I did you, you have to do me now,” Susannah says. “I mean . . . well, that certainly didn’t come out how I meant it.”

I can hear bullshit in someone’s voice . . . and I’d say right now Derrick’s studio stinks like a dairy farm.

Derrick laughs a little awkwardly. “You know Suz, I think a list might be better, since our fans listen and don’t watch. Quit pouting, Suz, we’ve only got a three hour show.”

Pouting? What the fuck, Derrick, are you blind? She’s flirting with you right now! All that shit she’s been doing for the past hour hasn’t been for the show!

Derrick is trying to get back on topic while Susannah tries to play it off. Finally, he gets around to listing out how guys like to flirt. There’s nothing all that groundbreaking from my point of view. Eye contact, compliments, smiles, brushing hair behind ear, touching the small of her back.

Actually, listening to him makes me smile and forget the anger at Susannah. Derrick’s done all those things to me, plus some. I blush, knowing that Derrick’s little flirts fill my belly with warmth and that he still does them makes me feel . . . I dunno, safe? Appreciated?

“Okay, time for another caller,” Derrick says. “Now, we’ve been covering a lot of classical flirting, but our next caller’s got a slightly more twenty first century problem. We’ve got Kim. Go ahead, Kim.”

“Hi Derrick,” a slightly nervous girl says. “I’ve been talking to this guy online. How do I know if he’s flirting with me? A lot of guys just send me pickup lines, or after the bare minimum of back and forth conversation, they send dick pics. But what about the ones that aren’t perverts?”

Derrick hums. “Sounds like you’ve learned to avoid the sketchy ones. That’s fishing . . . just looking for a hole to put a hook in. Some are just looking for some attention, maybe seeing if they can get some nudie pics without having to actually work for it. Now, maybe you want that, nothing wrong with casual hook ups if that’s what you both want. But if you want more, it’s hard to get to really know someone through words on a tiny screen. Eventually, you need to talk and spend some time together. You need those physical clues.”

Susannah speaks up in agreement. “You gotta look into their eyes for real. And be on the lookout everywhere. You might find the one person you’ve been looking for somewhere you go all the time, like the coffee shop, the gym, or work. Be open and friendly with everyone, and see who’s receptive and then flirt away.”

“That’s kinda hard. I don’t really have a lot of guys around.”

Derrick chuckles, “Kim, roughly half of the population is male, they’re around. I promise. Just stay open to finding them.”

He ends the call, and hums into the mic. “One other area of flirting we haven’t addressed yet is the flirting you do after you’ve already snagged someone.” His usual velvet radio voice has a hint of gravel and I know it’s for me, a signal that he’s thinking of me with this topic. Warmth builds in my tummy.

“Even after you’re in a relationship, flirting is still important. Send good morning and goodnight texts or calls, get them little presents if something reminded you of them. It doesn’t have to be anything big, just a sign you thought of them and what they’d like. Maybe get him a coffee cup from his favorite team to keep at your place, or buy her favorite lotion to keep at yours. Speak to each other and more importantly, listen. Compliment them, their body, their brain, their talents. Your partner should always know what attracted you to them in the first place and what attracts you to them today, whether it’s the same things or new things.”

I smile, thinking that this is nearly a blueprint of how we get along. He’s right, every day he does something to remind me how I make him feel, and he helps me feel beautiful every day. He helps me feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s a silver lining to the clouds in life. Maybe my little Styrofoam cup isn’t so small after all and I can have a bigger slice of ‘happy ever after’ like the one Jessie has and the one my mom is finally getting.

It also reminds me, he needs to get that too. Reaching for my phone, I send him another text. Just to let you know . . . you’re the sexiest, kindest man I’ve ever met. Just thinking of you. Call me later.

Count on it.

They take two more calls, nothing major although one is cute as he says this is his chance to tell the girl he’s interested in her, and then they go to another song break, old school Sophie B. Hawkins with Damn, Wish I Was Your Lover.

I jam out for a bit, this was a song Mom loved to sing along to before Carpool Karaoke was around, but after a moment, my phone rings. Derrick.

“I’ve only got a minute while the song plays,” he says, his voice low, “but I was missing you. And thanks for the text.”

“I miss you too, not just sex but actually being with you. In your arms, hearing your voice turn to gravel just for me. Just hanging out, spending time together.”

Derrick growls lightly, and I know exactly how he feels. “Damn, Kitty Kat. I know you’re busy and I don’t want to take away from your work, but I need to be with you tonight. I need to touch you, feel you.”

Just his words already have me simmering and I need him just as much. “How soon can you get home after work?”

“As soon as this song ends, we’re wrapping up for the night,” Derrick says. “Leave the office, I’ll be home in less than an hour. Hey, Kat . . . wear that teddy and boy short set from the other night. I believe I promised to take them off with my teeth.”

I whimper at the thought, and remind myself, I gotta start packing a backpack for nights like this. “Fuck, Derrick. Yes you did. I’m gonna hold you to that promise. Oh, one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m dropping off my toothbrush too.”

“Damn right you are.”