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"How was your weekend?"

I lift my head up from writing at the front desk. Today has been a boring day at work, I've been scribbling down dates and phone numbers and names. Plus it's absolutely gorgeous outside. I wish I were in a park somewhere, on a blanket, reading a book or flirting with Spencer or something along those lines. Something that makes my veins bubble over with enjoyment and loveliness.

"It was…alright," I tell Zooey.

Zooey Cantens is a girl I have been working with ever since I started at the gallery. She does miscellaneous jobs for Dr. Whitman, Steve, and seems to always be around, talking to artists, buyers, and random stragglers. Her official title position is unknown to me, but she has become one of the more interesting people I have had the pleasure of working with.

She is probably a couple of years older than me, and with very dark, long, slightly curly hair and bright, intense eyes. Zooey is definitely a sight for sore eyes. She is a classic beauty.

"I went to a party with some friends, nothing spectacular," I continue telling her. "Um, broke up with Bailey."

At this, Zooey gasps. She is, was, well aware of my budding romance with the gorgeous girl with caramel colored eyes. Bailey had come to visit me at work a few times and I had introduced the two.

"Oh no! That girl was adorable, and quite gorgeous, I might say. I'm sorry about that."

I shrug and set down my black-ink pen. "It was for the best, I think. I mean, I hope so."

Of course I had thought about my decision for a while. Before I went to Bailey's the other night and multiple times afterwards. But every time I saw Spencer, every time I talked to Spencer, I knew I had made the right decision. I want that ache, that need, that…something. And I can feel it becoming more and more apparent with Spencer. The only down side I could see was the new object of my affection not reciprocating.

"So what spurred this honey-buns? Things not going well?" Zooey takes a seat in a chair next to me and crosses her legs. She is wearing a long, flowy, flowery skirt. The flowers are purple and yellow and pink and for some reason the pattern is mesmerizing.

"No, they were fine, they were good. I just, you know…" I trial off because I'm not sure how to explain it. It's more of a feeling, not something that can be expressed verbally. "I think I'm feeling more for someone else."

Zooey smiles devilishly. "Oooh, intriguing."

"We'll see." I chuckle. "How was your weekend?"

Zooey nods enthusiastically. "Great! Jason and I went to New York City to visit his parents."

Jason is Zooey's fiancé. I've never met the guy, but I have a hunch that he's hot. For a couple of reason. One, Zooey is a knockout and I know appearances aren't everything, I guess, but the girl's gotta have a hot boyfriend. And two, Jason is a hot-guy name. It's a fact.

"That sounds exciting, I need to meet this Jason."

Zooey chuckles and flips her long bangs to the side of her head. She has a flower in her hair. She's that kind of girl that can pull it off. "Definitely. Hey, listen, you should come to our engagement party in a few weeks. You can bring the girl you've got your eye on." Zooey winks at me and laughs light-heartedly.

I blink and a smile most definitely plasters my face. The thought of asking Spencer to be my date to something, even if I do it informally, makes me a little giddy. And then nervousness invades the giddiness.

"Yeah?" I ask.

Zooey nods. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm sending out late invitations tomorrow, I'll give you a plus one."

"Thanks Zooey."

"Hello ladies," Steve says as he walks into the gallery. He's got on those same shoes he had on the day I met him, a tight mossy green turtleneck, and his spectacles. He is also carrying this bag he brings everywhere. It's worn and torn, the long strap looking like it could snap at any moment. I have an urge to call it a man-purse. A murse.

"Hey Steve." Zooey and I both greet him.

Having a boss who you actually like is a wonderful gift.

"What's the news?" He asks us.

Steve always asks us What's the news, it's like his way of saying what's up, and also, why are you talking instead of working.

"My engagement party. You coming?" Zooey asks him as she stands up from her chair and adjusts her skirt.

Steve nods while he sets down his man-purse. "I plan to. Darren just needs to take off work and we'll be all set."

Zooey claps her hands together excitedly. "Excellent. I haven't seen him in ages."

Darren is, of course, Steve's partner. They've been together almost fourteen years and I'm dying to meet the guy. I've only seen pictures and heard Steve talk about him non-stop, like a young boy having a crush, still after fourteen years. I admire that. Darren is a good looking man, he is shorter than Steve, although that's not saying much because Steve is one of the tallest people I know. In the pictures I've seen, Darren resembles a football player. Square jaw, muscles, well-built body.

Steve and Zooey go back into Steve's office to talk about an upcoming show and I go back to my phone-answering and jotting down important dates on the calendar.

"You know, they make notepads that are made of recycled paper. Perhaps you should invest in that."

I lift my head up to look at the person who was just talking. And I knew who it was before I even looked, there's no mistaking that voice, that snarky but fun tone in it.

"You would know that, Spencer," I say as I chuckle.

Spencer smiles at me. She's wearing this loose, flowing shirt with thin straps and a light cardigan. Her hair has these curls in it, ones I've never seen.

"We thought we'd come visit you for a minute, see what this job is all about."

"We?" I ask. And then I see Kyla walk inside the gallery, huge purse swinging at her side, high heels clicking on the wooden floor. "Ky, how nice of you to stop by."

"Hey Ash," she says with a smile. Her eyes look around the gallery. "Wow, this place is cool."

"What are you two doing?" I raise my eyebrow at Spencer, who has leaned her elbows on the desk in the front of the gallery.

"Getting something to eat. I wanted to show Kyla this organic place down the street," Spencer tells me. "Their menus are made out of recycled paper."

"Fancy," I chuckle. "Where's Robin?" I direct my question towards Kyla. And her face brightens at just Robin's name.

"At work," she says, obviously disappointed.

"They've been like, disgustingly cute. I wear my headphones to bed every night."

I snort out some laughter but then give Spencer an apologetic smile when she squints her eyes at me.

"I'll just tell them to have sex on your couch from now on," she says angrily.

"Hello! And welcome." I hear Zooey's voice boom through the gallery as she makes her way to the front.

Spencer surveys Zooey and Kyla too-obviously checks her out. I hear a very small whistle come out of her mouth.

"Zooey, this is my friend Spencer, and my sister Kyla." I introduce them, and they all shake hands.

"Nice to meet you ladies. Thanks for stopping by." Zooey says this so happily. Her happiness is contagious, really.

"We just thought we'd say hello to Ashley before we went to lunch," Spencer tells Zooey.

I keep my eyes on Spencer and smile when she says my name. As my eyes continue to wash over her, I feel the smile on my face getting bigger.

"Well, you're welcome any time," Zooey says. I catch her eye, and I see that she was watching me look at Spencer. Zooey looks at Spencer and then back at me. A smile curls around her lips and I have a feeling she knows that Spencer is my someone else.

Maybe Spencer could be my someone else.

---

It's a little later in the week and we have decided to go to the bar. I think it's interesting when people use the phrase to the bar. Like there's just one bar, everyone is always going to this particular bar. It must be a good bar.

So we're going to the bar, Spencer, Kyla, Robin, Aiden, Court, Blake, and myself. I had called Bailey earlier in the day to invite her, but she had other plans. I want to be her friend, because she's a great girl and someone I'd like to keep in my life. I know she wasn't lying to me, because she sounded really disappointed she couldn't come. It's nice to end things on a positive note. And plus, I'm starting to call her friends my friends, so we should all just be friends.

"Do you think this is too slutty?"

I turn to look at Kyla. "Since when do you care if things are too slutty?"

She shrugs. "Since now. Is it?"

"No Ky, it's cute actually."

"Ugh, cute." Kyla makes a sound like I just called her a disgusting pig. She walks back into the bathroom to finish getting dressed, doing her hair, and her make up.

"Cute always works for me," I mumble to myself.

I did the intelligent thing by getting ready before Kyla even thought about getting ready. So I'm just waiting for her, sitting on my comfortable couch, flipping through channels of dogs, chefs, housewives, news reports, singing people, singing cats, singing babies.

There is a knock at my door and when I open it, Spencer is standing there with her hands on her hips and a frustrated expression in her face.

"What's wrong champ?" I chuckle and head into the kitchen, beckoning her to follow me. I get out my bottle of tequila for some pre-gaming.

"Your sister is driving me crazy."

"What?" I ask. "What'd Kyla do to you?"

"No, it's Robin."

I just look at her with a blank expression on my face. "You said Kyla…"

"Domino effect!" Spencer yells in an exasperated voice. "I've been helping Robin pick out an outfit for an hour because she wants to look good for Kyla. Is this too slutty? Do you think Kyla would want to rip this off of me? Too much."

I laugh and pour Spencer and myself a shot. "Kyla's been the same. They really have a thing for each other, huh?" I meet Spencer's eyes and I seem them relax. She smiles a little bit and I smile back at her. She looks really cute, and I can't stop smiling at her.

"Yeah, seems like it."

Spencer and I clink our shot glasses together and then throw them back. There is a perfect technique for taking a shot of tequila, one that makes the liquid slide down your throat so smmothly you never even have to taste it. I have perfected this method over many years of practice.

"Are we meeting Court and Aiden there?" I ask Spencer as I pour two more shots for us.

Spencer nods, and we take the second shot. "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."

I flick my eyes to her and can't help the smirk that probably appears on my slightly warm face. "I always said one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, bed."

Spencer bites her lip. And it's incredibly sexy. "You presume a lot Miss Davies. Tequila does bad things."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

Spencer doesn't say anything, she just has this wicked smile on her face as she leans her elbows on the probably sticky linoleum of my kitchen counter and bends her head towards mine. She's close to me, and maybe it's the tequila, but I become short of breath. "You quote Shakespeare to all girls, or am I special?"

Her blue eyes are literally twinkling, and something about the black eyeliner she has on is making them pop. I resist my eyes from falling down to level with her pink lips, with the curves of her mouth, and the lines of her jaw. All smooth, all things I want to kiss. And I don't blame the tequila anymore. This is all me.

"Special," I say quietly, right after I lick my lips as inconspicuously as possible.

"I'm ready!" Kyla exclaims.

Spencer breaks eye contact with me and brings herself back to the opposite side of the counter. I sigh quietly, close my eyes, and then open them up again.

"Finally," I chuckle.

Mr. Cuervo goes back into the cabinet and the three of us head out of the apartment. I glance at Spencer as I'm locking my apartment door. She doesn't smile, but her eyes say more than smiles or words could express.

---