At 11 o’clock Claire got the familiar fluttery feeling in her stomach, as she did every day, at precisely the same time.  The next hour was unproductive; most of the time was spent playing solitaire at her desk.  At 12 she got up hurriedly and made her way through the maze of cubicles, making sure to rush past Patricia’s desk.  Recently, Patricia has taken to questioning Claire about men and dating, anytime Claire appears to have a spare second, and Claire considers these conversations extraordinarily uncomfortable, and has discovered that speeding past Patricia’s desk, is the best way to avoid these interrogations. 

Once safely in her car in her car, Claire reapplied her powder and lipstick.  Looking in the mirror she tried to comb out her unruly hair with her fingers, but was pretty sure she only made matters worse.  In the parking lot, she examined herself once more and took off her plaid trench coat, revealing a form fitting black turtleneck.  She hesitated, and put the coat back on.  Once inside the fluttery feeling she experienced an hour before began to turn into a feeling of panic.  Alice was wearing bubblegum pink lipstick, but yesterday she was wearing more of a coral color.  Claire wondered how she managed to make it last all day, staying perfectly in place, with no flecks stuck to her teeth. 
“Welcome to Pret, how can I help you?”
Claire stared.
Alice stared back.
“Where do you get your lipstick?” Claire asked.  The words tumbled out of her mouth before Claire had a chance to stop them.
Alice smiled widely and said,
“The Mac counter!  Finally somebody noticed.  You wouldn’t believe it.  15 dollars per tube and you’re the first person to acknowledge it.”

Claire couldn’t believe it.  Eight months and all it took was one simple question.  Claire smiled and said,
“I’ll have a cappuccino and a chocolate chip scone.”
“Coming right up.”  Alice replied warmly. 
Claire sat down at the last open table and took off her coat with a newfound sense of confidence.  She could feel eyes on the back of her head and the hoped that they belonged to Alice. 
“I have a cappuccino and a chocolate chip scone.”
Claire shuffled over to the counter and grabbed her bag, hoping to smile at Alice once more before she left. 
“Are you seeing someone?”  Claire whipped her head around.
“No!” she responded, probably too hastily. 
“Great, do you like moves?”
“I love movies.”
Claire drove back to the office, with a new, almost euphoric feeling about her.  She sauntered through the maze of desks, speeding up, once again by Patricia.  This time, not because she didn’t have anything to talk about, but because she wanted to keep today to herself.