Erin spent her evening thinking about Holtzmann again and jumping every time one of the machines in her living room made a noise.
The next morning, she met up with Abby and Holtzmann and the realtor Abby had procured overnight. The abandoned firehouse she showed them first was perfect. Erin watched Abby and Holtzmann run around the open space like a couple of excited children on Christmas morning, and she felt a little giddy herself.
And then—$21,000 a month? The savings the three of them had pooled together (mostly Erin's) wouldn't even cover one month of renting there. She ran up the stairs after Abby and Holtzmann, sighing wistfully at how beautiful the space was as she went.
"Guys. Guys. We can't afford this place. We need to leave right now before we get attached."
The way Holtzmann's expression fell was devastating.
The space above the Chinese restaurant paled in comparison, but at least they could afford it. Plus, they could move in immediately because the building's owners were so eager to get someone in. Abby was ecstatic at the thought of working above her favourite place for takeout. Holtzmann still seemed a little bummed, but as soon as they started walking around, she started to light up a bit as she planned where her things would go.
While Abby started on the paperwork, Erin walked over to where Holtzmann was, inexplicably, crawling around on her hands and knees with a small metal object that was flashing red.
"That floor doesn't look…very clean," Erin said.
"It's disgusting," Holtzmann agreed joyfully.
Did she dare ask? "So what are you doing?"
The engineer hummed. "Can't tell you." She sat up onto her knees and squinted down at the machine. "Hmmmm. Well, that's…probably fine."
Erin frowned. "Should I be worried?"
Holtzmann beamed up at her. "Not at all. Help me up?"
Erin hoisted her to her feet. "So I was thinking. Would you like to go grab lunch together sometime?"
Holtzmann's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "Why, Dr. Gilbert, are you asking me on a date?"
"What? No! Of course not! That would be…weird and inappropriate. I just mean, you know, like a couple of gals…being pals…getting to know each other better…"
"Sounds like a date to me." Who gave her the right to smirk like that?
"Holtz!" Erin said, the nickname bursting out of her for the first time. Holtz' lips twitched. "That's not what I…I mean like, soon-to-be colleagues going on a very professional work lunch—"
"Date."
"—to learn more about one another before working together."
"A date."
"Stop it!"
"No. You're cute when you're flustered."
Erin blushed hard.
"You're cute when you get all red and splotchy, too," Holtz added.
Erin's stomach fluttered. "You know, most people are a little more subtle when they flirt."
Holtz jutted her chin out and raised one eyebrow. "I'm not like most people, baby. Also, I've never understood subtlety."
"That's for sure," Erin muttered under her breath.
"I don't have the patience. Time is a tickin', Dr. Gilbert. I could die in a nuclear accident at any moment. There's no time for subtlety. For all I know it could take you months to even realize I was hitting on you. At that rate we'd never end up together! We can't have that, can we? Now, about that date…"
"It's not a date."
"You underestimate my persuasive abilities."
Erin sighed. "You're very confident, aren't you?"
"Is it a turn on?" Holtzmann winked.
Erin spun on her heel. "I'm walking away," she called over her shoulder.
"I'll wear you down eventually!" Holtz called back.
Erin spent the rest of the day contemplating why the thought of going on a date with Holtz was more appealing than it should be.
The next morning, Abby and Holtzmann showed up bright and early to her apartment to move the equipment to their new lab.
"How many matching blazers and skirts do you own, woman?" Holtzmann said upon seeing her.
Erin looked down at her ensemble self-consciously. "I don't know."
"You make it work." Holtz grinned. "Interesting choice for moving, though."
"I don't own casual wear," Erin muttered, even though she definitely did. She just couldn't stomach the thought of wearing it to work.
They spent all morning moving their respective things into their new space. By the time it was lunchtime, Erin had only made a small dent in the boxes she was unpacking. It wasn't her fault that she kept getting distracted by Holtzmann, who insisted that she needed to get to work right away instead of helping them unpack. Apparently her idea of 'working' involved a whole lot of dancing to the music blasting from her stereo.
Erin could hear Abby arguing with her delivery guy again on the other side of the room. She was contemplating whether or not to go intervene, when Holtz' music suddenly got louder. She recognized the opening notes to Rhythm of the Night instantly, and she bopped her head along while she watched Holtz begin to dance.
As the lyrics started, Holtz grabbed hold of a soldering iron and began lip syncing into it like a microphone, and oh God, the way she was looking seductively through her glasses turned Erin's mouth dry.
Erin shot her a sarcastic smile that she hoped said 'I see you over there flirt-dancing and that's not going to work on me.'
Holtz didn't ease up.
"Oh, we're dancing," Erin said, acknowledging it for the first time all morning. Then Holtzmann grabbed two blowtorches. "Let's be safe, though."
She lit the blowtorches and began gyrating with them above her head. Erin was about to say 'that's the exact opposite of safe' when Holtz slid across the floor and lit a roll of paper towels on fire. She continued to dance.
"Holtz. Holtz! HOLTZMANN!" Erin shouted as the engineer did another spin. "FIRE."
Holtz gave her a lazy wink and exchanged her blow torches for a fire extinguisher. She started slowly strutting over with it with no urgency at all.
"Over towards the fire." Erin pointed.
Finally, brandishing the extinguisher at her crotch, Holtzmann pulled the trigger—all the while refusing to break eye contact with Erin.
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
She was so distracted she didn't even hear Abby come up beside her until she was speaking.
"Hate to DeBarge in."
Okay, Erin gave her points for that one.
She was only half paying attention as Abby showed her the flyers, her mind replaying Holtz' dance. Was this how it was going to be until Erin agreed that their undetermined lunch plans were, in fact, a date? If so, she wasn't sure how much longer she was going to last. Maybe she'd have to buy a pair of horse blinders so she could focus on—oh sweet Jesus.
All thoughts of Holtzmann, and anything else, vanished from her brain at the sight of the most beautiful man she'd ever encountered.
She was vaguely aware of words coming out of her mouth. She had no clue what those words were.
Kevin.
Oh my God, he was beautiful. That's all her brain could register.
"That's a manly name. My name's Erin. With an E. For…everything you want."
As she followed Abby and Kevin over to the table for the interview, Holtz sidled up to her and poked her in the ribcage.
"Everything you want, huh? That was smooth."
"What?"
"You know…a minute ago you said…ah, nevermind. Maybe best you don't remember."
It took less than five minutes into the interview for Erin to lose interest. God, he was attractive, but she could never in a billion years seriously date someone that dumb. Besides, Abby was right…workplace romance should be off limits. She'd learned her lesson with the Phil fiasco.
Wait…did that mean Holtzmann was off the table?
As they sent Kevin off while they deliberated, Erin decided that having him around was probably a workplace hazard.
"Guys, look, as much as I would like to have him here…to look at—"
"What?" Abby interrupted.
"You don't find him attractive?"
Abby looked horrified. "Kevin?"
Erin was about to ask what was the matter with her when she had a flash of Abby in high school, confiding in Erin that she didn't get crushes and she felt like something was wrong with her. Oh. Maybe not, then. Erin made a mental note to ask Abby about that later.
As it turns out, they had to hire Kevin anyway. Erin could already see that ending in disaster, but before she could think about it too much, they had a bigger problem on their hands.
"I got chased by a ghost."