Read Online Blogger Girl by Meredith Schorr - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meredith Schorr
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her PR person asking me to review the book. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
Nicholas smirked. “Doubtful. You must be at least a little curious about the book though, no?”
I threw my napkin on my plate. “Not even a little bit.”
Nicholas laughed. “Okay, then.” Glancing at his watch, he returned his empty plates to the tray and stood up. Smiling he said, “Once again, you have distracted me into taking way too long of a lunch break.”
“Oops. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I could use the distraction,” he said with a wink before walking away.
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face until, paranoid that people might be watching me, I looked around, cleared my throat and turned back to my blog post.
***
At home later, after I unwound with some television and read a few chapters of the newest book in my queue, I did what I had been willing myself not to do ever since I got back to my desk after lunch. I logged onto Facebook to check out Nicholas’ profile.
I appreciated that Facebook could be a wonderful thing. I had reunited with old friends from senior high and college and gotten back in touch with colleagues from my days at the advertising agency and my first law firm. I was able to easily keep in touch with friends who resided too far away to actually see on any regular basis. And, of course, Facebook was great for promoting Pastel is the New Black . But in some ways, I truly believed Facebook was created by Satan as a way to turn completely sane people into obsessed stalkers. I had seen it happen to my friends and didn’t want to join them in their insanity. What good could come out of seeing what other girls wrote on Nicholas’ wall? I knew that I would start hypothesizing his relationships with these women and even though I’d have no way of really knowing what was real and what was invented by my overactive, not to mention paranoid, imagination, it wouldn’t matter. If Facebook suggested he was dating or hooking up with someone, I would believe it. On the flip side, what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.
But I did it anyway.
Holding my breath, my eyes immediately went to the top of his profile page under relationship status. When I saw it said “single,” I allowed myself a small exhale. So even if he was dating the girl from the Shake Shack it probably wasn’t serious. At least not yet. I twirled some hair around my finger and put it in my mouth. Then I checked to see how many friends he had. 972. Almost three times the number of friends I had. I shook my head in disbelief and spit the hair out of my mouth. I held my hand steady on the mouse while I contemplated what to look at next. Pictures. The first was a picture of him asleep at his desk with a cute caption about sleeping in the office again. He looked so peaceful when he slept and I wished I could reach into the computer and plant a soft kiss on his forehead. I chewed on my cuticles as I wondered who had taken the picture. Was it another associate or had he brought someone with him to the office late at night? In the second picture, Nicholas sat in a rocking chair with a toddler on his lap. The adorable, chubby-faced toddler was wearing a Duke baseball cap. From the comments, all girls of course, I deduced that it was his nephew. The next few pictures were of him at a bar or a party with some friends making funny faces and clearly having a grand ole time and when he smiled, I felt like he was smiling at me. Not only was he beyond painfully cute to look at in person, he was photogenic too. Somehow I doubted that, like me, he only posted those pictures that made him look good. I had a feeling he always came out good in pictures. The bastard. I frowned at the screen until my eyes were drawn to one of the pictures of Nicholas with his friends, one friend in particular: a tanned blonde girl wearing white denim shorts and a red and white checkered sleeveless shirt knotted at the navel. I
Nicholas smirked. “Doubtful. You must be at least a little curious about the book though, no?”
I threw my napkin on my plate. “Not even a little bit.”
Nicholas laughed. “Okay, then.” Glancing at his watch, he returned his empty plates to the tray and stood up. Smiling he said, “Once again, you have distracted me into taking way too long of a lunch break.”
“Oops. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I could use the distraction,” he said with a wink before walking away.
As I watched him disappear into the crowd, I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face until, paranoid that people might be watching me, I looked around, cleared my throat and turned back to my blog post.
***
At home later, after I unwound with some television and read a few chapters of the newest book in my queue, I did what I had been willing myself not to do ever since I got back to my desk after lunch. I logged onto Facebook to check out Nicholas’ profile.
I appreciated that Facebook could be a wonderful thing. I had reunited with old friends from senior high and college and gotten back in touch with colleagues from my days at the advertising agency and my first law firm. I was able to easily keep in touch with friends who resided too far away to actually see on any regular basis. And, of course, Facebook was great for promoting Pastel is the New Black . But in some ways, I truly believed Facebook was created by Satan as a way to turn completely sane people into obsessed stalkers. I had seen it happen to my friends and didn’t want to join them in their insanity. What good could come out of seeing what other girls wrote on Nicholas’ wall? I knew that I would start hypothesizing his relationships with these women and even though I’d have no way of really knowing what was real and what was invented by my overactive, not to mention paranoid, imagination, it wouldn’t matter. If Facebook suggested he was dating or hooking up with someone, I would believe it. On the flip side, what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.
But I did it anyway.
Holding my breath, my eyes immediately went to the top of his profile page under relationship status. When I saw it said “single,” I allowed myself a small exhale. So even if he was dating the girl from the Shake Shack it probably wasn’t serious. At least not yet. I twirled some hair around my finger and put it in my mouth. Then I checked to see how many friends he had. 972. Almost three times the number of friends I had. I shook my head in disbelief and spit the hair out of my mouth. I held my hand steady on the mouse while I contemplated what to look at next. Pictures. The first was a picture of him asleep at his desk with a cute caption about sleeping in the office again. He looked so peaceful when he slept and I wished I could reach into the computer and plant a soft kiss on his forehead. I chewed on my cuticles as I wondered who had taken the picture. Was it another associate or had he brought someone with him to the office late at night? In the second picture, Nicholas sat in a rocking chair with a toddler on his lap. The adorable, chubby-faced toddler was wearing a Duke baseball cap. From the comments, all girls of course, I deduced that it was his nephew. The next few pictures were of him at a bar or a party with some friends making funny faces and clearly having a grand ole time and when he smiled, I felt like he was smiling at me. Not only was he beyond painfully cute to look at in person, he was photogenic too. Somehow I doubted that, like me, he only posted those pictures that made him look good. I had a feeling he always came out good in pictures. The bastard. I frowned at the screen until my eyes were drawn to one of the pictures of Nicholas with his friends, one friend in particular: a tanned blonde girl wearing white denim shorts and a red and white checkered sleeveless shirt knotted at the navel. I
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