As the front door slammed, her fatigue fell away and she grabbed the book. Running into the bedroom and shrugging off her jacket and bag, she threw herself onto the bed and hastily dug through until she came to their first meeting. She would, she realised, need a bunch of book marks, it would take far too long to wade through it every time she was looking for a particular section.

If only there was a contents page. The book wriggled in her hands and she dropped it to the bed, squeaking as she jumped away. She watched it. It didn’t move. She reached out tentatively and picked it up. It fell open in her hands at the front and she saw, just behind the mysterious front page, a contents page. It was massively detailed and ran to a few pages, and she grinned as she ran her finger down the entries.

2341. Sarah meets Daniel at work

2342. Cheese sandwich and Fanta in the park

2343. Traffic jam

2344. Sarah masturbates whilst thinking about Daniel.

She slammed the book shut, face burning red. Then she giggled. It was a good scene. She turned to chapter 2341, and read it slowly, savouring the awkwardness in their conversation, then the gentle flirting that made her tingle. She barely noticed as the night closed in, revising the words over and over so she was sure to get them right.

When hunger finally lured her from the bed, she nipped into the kitchen and made a sandwich, chunks of fridge-hard butter tearing holes in the bread. Then she was back, plumping up the pillows and turning back a few pages until she came to the beginning of the day. Apparently, she wore her heels tomorrow, and she dug through her wardrobe to find them, placing them next to her work clothes. She lost track of time, falling asleep with the half-eaten sandwich on the bed next to her, and her face resting gently on the soft paper of the book.

She woke early, stunned at how bouncy she felt for sleeping sat up with her face squished flat. A quick shower and she was back on the bed, a last minute revision cementing every moment of the day.

It went like clockwork, even the shitty customer bitching about having to give three forms of ID barely scratching the surface. Finally, after a day that lasted longer than the ending of Return of the King, he stepped through the door.  Her feet were hammering against the footrest and her hands shaking as he approached the window.

“Hello, um, Satinder?”

She giggled.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry, sir. My name is Sarah. Satinder is on her break so I’m just filling in. What can I help you with today?”

She’d hated drama at school, and sucked at it too, but now she was reading the script like a pro. She wondered if it was obvious. She caught herself about to mouth his words along with him.

“Actually, I need to open an account, please?”

His voice sounded just how she’d imagined, deep and warm and caring, and she found herself smiling, a huge grin that showed her teeth. It was too much, oh, god, he was gonna think she was a weirdo. She closed her mouth, squeezing her lips together, then remembered her lines.

“Oh, OK, great! We can’t do that at the counter, but if you’d like to wait a few minutes, I’ll be out and we can go into the office.”

Every word sounded loaded with innuendo, and she gulped, grabbed for her pen, and succeeded only in knocking it onto the floor. She dived beneath the desk, her cheeks turning bright red, then picked up the pen and appeared above the counter. He was still standing at the window, watching her with what could have been amusement, but could just have easily been tolerance. She stared at him, wide eyed like a rabbit in headlights, then snapped off a quick, ‘I’ll be out in a minute’, and rushed into the back. She leaned against the wall, fanning herself with some savings brochures and taking deep breaths. The book had said nothing about the pen dropping, nothing. Did it matter? Maybe it was too inconsequential for it to be written down. But it contained plenty of others things that didn’t matter at all. Oh god, would it change things?

She could feel her breathing getting quicker and she closed her eyes, speaking in firm tones.

“Just calm down. You dropped a pen, it means nothing. You’re going to go out and speak to him and you’ll say the right things and everything will be fine.”

She opened her eyes again. Satinder was watching her, one eyebrow raised and a look of mild concern on her face.

“Hey, you, ahh, ok, boss?”

“Uh, hi Sat, yeah, I’m good, just, you know, I really want to get this account?”

With a bright smile, she fled the backroom and went out into the branch, finding him leaning against the wall, all smoky smile and dark, promising eyes. Taking one last deep breath, she went over, seeing the words on the page as she spoke them. They headed into the office and things went as planned, the lines tripping easily off her tongue, which wasn’t surprising, cos she’d said them in the first place, or would, or was… Thinking about it made her head hurt, so she focused instead on the gorgeous man in front of her.

They’d signed the paperwork, and she knew more about his financial history than two people sharing what was clearly a mutual attraction should, when she stumbled over her words. It was a simple line, a teeny bit flirty, but she thought about it first, and it came out not at all flirty and quite a lot stalkery. She could tell by the way his face twisted a little and the sideways look her threw at her. She laughed, waving it away, and returned to the script. Only, it didn’t work, because the next sentence was a response to what he should have said in reply to the fluffed line.

As soon as she’d said it, she felt her face begin to burn, and the safety net began to unravel, falling to the circus floor and leaving her clinging by her fingertips to the trapeze. God, what if it went wrong, what if this was it, her only chance and it went wrong? She stammered, actually spluttering, then caught herself and slipped into bank manager mode, breathing easier as she found the platform. By the time she finished the post-account spiel, she felt like she’d climbed down the ladder and stood on the floor of the big top, waiting for the crowd to burst into applause.

But they remained in their seats, hands in their laps. He thanked her, shook her hand, and left, the promised smile nowhere to be seen.