Third day's the charm.

“No worries,” I told Adam when he apologized for not having more time to spend with me this week. “I’m keeping busy enough – meeting people, doing training, reading documentation – so we can touch base on Monday and devise a better plan.” And, honestly, it’s going quite well.

“Your outfit is pretty,” a young woman said as we passed in the hall. I was frowning down at my laptop, as determined to connect to a printer as it was stubbornly thwarting my request. I glanced up at her and belatedly smiled, thanking her. I frowned after she passed, reminding myself that I didn’t want to be oblivious to people anymore. Head up, eyes alert and lips ready to curve and accept invitations to lunch or the movies or wherever. It’s time to make friends, I decided, wondering if I could chase down the person who liked my green pants and brown sweater. Maybe we could be buddies.

“I’d love to go,” I replied to an earlier invitation made by a woman who works down the hall from my office. Bailey (for that's what we'll call her) mentioned that she and Vic – the one she was currently introducing to me – were going next week.

“He doesn’t hug new people right away,” she said of the man we’d gone to meet as we prepared to leave. He’d embraced her warmly and kissed her on the cheek when we arrived and I thought it lovely. She’s a warm, bubbly person and he seemed equally demonstrative. “He’ll hug you next time,” she promised me with a smile, but he stood up and motioned me closer.

“You don’t have to,” I demurred even as I reached up to tuck my arms behind his back. He held on for a moment – longer than most hugs I’ve had with colleagues - and I had time to feel warmed by the sign of affection. “Thank you,” I said after he released me and smoothed my sweater, charmed by the gesture and feeling quite affectionate toward both of them.

“We’re Latin,” my friend explained. “We’re touchy like that.”

“I’m Midwestern,” I told her, my accent much less exotic and lovely. “But I rather liked it.” It wasn’t smarmy or uncomfortable, I decided. Instead it felt natural and sincere and I envied their culture for a moment. I decided we were going to be friends. And if doing that means I have to suffer and cringe through the Batman sequel, so be it.

I decided to leave a bit early today, tiring of the monotony of online forms and training. I accomplished a lot, I decided at 3:00. So I took my leave and went to the bank to deposit my travel reimbursement from Former Institution. I felt guilty while leaving the financial institution though and called Adam on my cell phone.

“Hi,” I said to his voicemail. “This is Katie. Remember when you asked if I had personal matters to handle? And I said no? Well, I thought of several things I could do this afternoon and left the office a bit early. And since you weren’t there to ask, I decided I should at least let you know. That way you can scold me later if this was inappropriate. But hopefully it’s OK. So, um, I’ll talk to you later – call my cell phone if you need me, please.” Then I did a little shopping, stopped for a burrito (cilantro, how I love thee) and made some phone calls on my way home. I arrived at the hotel before 4 and sighed, wondering if I should nap or work or go out and do something with my free time.

Not having an alternate plan, I sat in the recliner in the corner of my room and let my toes wiggle in the sunshine coming in the window. Then I read an email and smiled with pure delighted surprise. I was given directions to a note and though I didn’t have to find it immediately, I debated for mere moments before throwing camera and keys in my purse and heading out the door. I called my parents while I drove and caught them up on happenings at work. I left out the part where I was on my way, directions written on an envelope tucked in my purse, to find words that someone had written for me. (I'm struggling to name him - this happens when people might grow important and explains how Friend ended up being called Friend.)

The note and directions to it? It's the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me. And it was really perfect – I was awarded a view of the skyline when I got lost, and spent a moment thinking the buildings rather impressive and stately, standing there together. Then I arrived at a beautiful building and moved through the heavy doors, past the front entrance, and slowly climbed some steps. Consulting my directions once more, I felt my stomach flutter when I reached for the hiding place, flipped to the appropriate page and withdrew a small sheet of white paper. The words, written in red ink, invited me to meet him next week.

I withdrew the small note I’d composed at the hotel and pawed through my purse until I found a pencil. Under what I’d written before, I accepted said invitation without even considering the alternative, placed the note I retrieved carefully inside the envelope on which the directions were scrawled and tucked it back in my bag. I made my way back down the stairs and through the ornate lobby and out to my car, smiling the whole way and snapping a couple of pictures.

I feared that the photo project would quickly grow boring. But since I’m cheating already with the + or -, I’ll simply save some that I took this evening – glowing with excitement and hope on my quest – and use them later.

This is going very well so far. We’re still at early stages, of course, but I’m happy. And that seems good.