Sitting at my desk on Saturday morning, I realize I have no time to look. Every spare minute has to go to You4D. Finding an apartment takes time. Then, it hits me: I can live here in the office for a while. There's plenty of space. Hell, it's more space than not space. It wouldn't be hard to build out a little place to sleep. We're planning on putting in a shower, anyway, for people who exercise on the way to work. Problem solved. When Jen walks in, she brings the memory of last night with her. I feel as awkward as a thirteen-year-old boy going to his first school dance. I can't decide whether to look at her right away or not. Should I say something? What is she thinking? Does she realize what she did to me last night? I groan to myself. All of this drama is inside me. It doesn't mean anything to Jen. She's just coming to work as usual, like I should be doing. Nothing has changed between us. It's only changed in me. Jen's not much of a morning person, so she usually doesn't talk for the first hour of work.
