“People are the problem. But they can also be the solution.”
―
Angie Hockman,
Shipped
“But life is what you make it. It’s a balancing act. If all you do is work, you’ll wake up one day—ten, twenty, fifty years from now—utterly exhausted. Then you’ll be dead.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“It’s amazin’ how a first impression of someone can completely change once you get to know them.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“How do you feel about me?Usually? Irritation and an extreme urge to shove a whipped-cream pie in your face. But also, desperation. Desire. And, fuck, I want to kiss you.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Life doesn’t give you many of these opportunities. My advice? Seize it, mold it, and make it everything you want it to be.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“The most genuine, soul-stirring smile forms and his entire aspect brightens when his eyes meet mine. My steps falter. No one’s ever looked at me like that before—like I’m the sunrise after a long winter’s night. Or the first present on Christmas morning. It’s a look you see in movies, and from Graeme, it’s devastating.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Do you want to know what finally changed things for me?” “What?” My voice is barely above a whisper. Dappled sunlight falls across his face, highlighting his flushed cheeks. “I met someone. She’s about five-six, golden brown hair, devastating smile. The kind that warms you from the inside out. And she made me so mad. Not two weeks after I started the job, she called to grill me about a story I posted on Facebook. She insisted I edit it because I didn’t get the wording right.” He adopts a mock falsetto voice. “ ‘It isn’t the “Panama Canal” cruise. It’s “Panama Canal and the Wonders of Azuero.” Fix it, please.’ ” My muscles go limp and my knees nearly buckle. Because he’s talking about me. “Finally, someone who wasn’t walking on eggshells. She actually snapped at me, and it was like she snapped me out of my fog. I may have been unnecessarily combative after that, just to get a rise out of her, but I started to feel again. Irritation, at first, but then more. After a while, I began getting out of the house. Seeing a therapist. Playing hockey. I adopted Winnie—best decision ever. I actually started looking forward to waking up in the morning.” Graeme steps closer, but I’m glued to the spot. Heat sizzles through my veins when he reaches up to run his knuckles along my cheek. “And staff meeting Thursdays? They became my favorite day of the week. Because I got to see her face.” My heart is hammering and my lungs seize. The sound of guests approaching rumbles closer, but I don’t look away. I swallow past the lump that’s lodged in my throat. “After this cruise, they’re my favorite day of the week too.” Reaching up, I run my fingers lightly along the hand that’s cupping my cheek. Graeme’s eyes widen and his lips part. Gathering every ounce of resolve I can muster, I step away just as Nikolai and Dwight crest a nearby hill. We continue through the highlands, fastening our platonic coworker facades into place. But an unspoken understanding hangs in the space between us, heavy and undeniable… This just went way past any bet.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“I don’t like splashing details about my life across the Internet. It’s not real, what people post. It’s a carefully cultivated highlight reel. Everyone is marketing their own personal brand whether they know it or not, and I’d rather keep my personal life to myself instead of trying to sell a fake version of it online. And opening up your life to others means people can comment on it,” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“I want to savor him like a delicacy, like how you'd nibble truffles or caviar, but I can't hold back. I devour him like a 1 a.m. pizza.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Every time I collect my mail from the paint-spattered box in the lobby and see my name printed over and over in bold black ink, I’m reminded that I’m named after a rock star. Not an endlessly cool rocker like Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, or Madonna. No, my name is Henley Rose Evans, and my parents consciously named me after the lead singer and drummer of every boomer’s favorite easy listening band, the Eagles.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“He’s definitely threatened by Henley,” says Tory, her normally cheery voice flattening. Christina nods emphatically. “When it comes to smart, ambitious women, mediocre men usually are,” says Michelle.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“You know, I think I could fall in love with you.” Warmth floods my chest. “Ditto.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Men rarely do, especially the decent ones. But still, too often their actions sting. How many times had I shown up to meetings only to be underestimated? Talked over? Snubbed by my male colleagues while they exclusively talked to one another and ignored the women in the room? Plenty. And I am so over it.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“And in our weekly video conferences, you wear those dresses—very professional. But pretty too. Colorful.” Heat floods my cheeks. “Oh, um…” He laughs. “I’m saying I like them. Your style is like you—a sucker punch people don’t see coming.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Fate is the excuse people use to justify when life-altering things happen, when in reality it’s the result of the decisions they make—and maybe a dash of pure dumb luck. Good or bad, people’s actions determine their future. Cause and effect. Action, reaction. Blaming things on fate only downplays the importance of choice.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“I want a partner who can stand side by side with me, not a step behind, so we can forge the best future possible together.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“You gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, you might feel the same way about me as I feel about you.” “How do you feel about me?” I whisper. “Usually? Irritation and an extreme urge to shove a whipped-cream pie in your face. But also, desperation. Desire. And, fuck, I want to kiss you.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“No more drifting along in my own life, floating wherever the current takes me. I’m behind the wheel and I make my own choices.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“it, mold it, and make it everything you want it to be.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“But life is what you make it. It’s a balancing act. If all you do is work, you’ll wake up one day—ten, twenty, fifty years from now—utterly exhausted. Then you’ll be dead.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“It’s amazin’ how a first impression of someone can completely change once you get to know them.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“How do you feel about me?Usually? Irritation and an extreme urge to shove a whipped-cream pie in your face. But also, desperation. Desire. And, fuck, I want to kiss you.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Life doesn’t give you many of these opportunities. My advice? Seize it, mold it, and make it everything you want it to be.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“The most genuine, soul-stirring smile forms and his entire aspect brightens when his eyes meet mine. My steps falter. No one’s ever looked at me like that before—like I’m the sunrise after a long winter’s night. Or the first present on Christmas morning. It’s a look you see in movies, and from Graeme, it’s devastating.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Do you want to know what finally changed things for me?” “What?” My voice is barely above a whisper. Dappled sunlight falls across his face, highlighting his flushed cheeks. “I met someone. She’s about five-six, golden brown hair, devastating smile. The kind that warms you from the inside out. And she made me so mad. Not two weeks after I started the job, she called to grill me about a story I posted on Facebook. She insisted I edit it because I didn’t get the wording right.” He adopts a mock falsetto voice. “ ‘It isn’t the “Panama Canal” cruise. It’s “Panama Canal and the Wonders of Azuero.” Fix it, please.’ ” My muscles go limp and my knees nearly buckle. Because he’s talking about me. “Finally, someone who wasn’t walking on eggshells. She actually snapped at me, and it was like she snapped me out of my fog. I may have been unnecessarily combative after that, just to get a rise out of her, but I started to feel again. Irritation, at first, but then more. After a while, I began getting out of the house. Seeing a therapist. Playing hockey. I adopted Winnie—best decision ever. I actually started looking forward to waking up in the morning.” Graeme steps closer, but I’m glued to the spot. Heat sizzles through my veins when he reaches up to run his knuckles along my cheek. “And staff meeting Thursdays? They became my favorite day of the week. Because I got to see her face.” My heart is hammering and my lungs seize. The sound of guests approaching rumbles closer, but I don’t look away. I swallow past the lump that’s lodged in my throat. “After this cruise, they’re my favorite day of the week too.” Reaching up, I run my fingers lightly along the hand that’s cupping my cheek. Graeme’s eyes widen and his lips part. Gathering every ounce of resolve I can muster, I step away just as Nikolai and Dwight crest a nearby hill. We continue through the highlands, fastening our platonic coworker facades into place. But an unspoken understanding hangs in the space between us, heavy and undeniable… This just went way past any bet.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“I don’t like splashing details about my life across the Internet. It’s not real, what people post. It’s a carefully cultivated highlight reel. Everyone is marketing their own personal brand whether they know it or not, and I’d rather keep my personal life to myself instead of trying to sell a fake version of it online. And opening up your life to others means people can comment on it,” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“I want to savor him like a delicacy, like how you'd nibble truffles or caviar, but I can't hold back. I devour him like a 1 a.m. pizza.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Every time I collect my mail from the paint-spattered box in the lobby and see my name printed over and over in bold black ink, I’m reminded that I’m named after a rock star. Not an endlessly cool rocker like Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, or Madonna. No, my name is Henley Rose Evans, and my parents consciously named me after the lead singer and drummer of every boomer’s favorite easy listening band, the Eagles.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“He’s definitely threatened by Henley,” says Tory, her normally cheery voice flattening. Christina nods emphatically. “When it comes to smart, ambitious women, mediocre men usually are,” says Michelle.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“You know, I think I could fall in love with you.” Warmth floods my chest. “Ditto.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Men rarely do, especially the decent ones. But still, too often their actions sting. How many times had I shown up to meetings only to be underestimated? Talked over? Snubbed by my male colleagues while they exclusively talked to one another and ignored the women in the room? Plenty. And I am so over it.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“And in our weekly video conferences, you wear those dresses—very professional. But pretty too. Colorful.” Heat floods my cheeks. “Oh, um…” He laughs. “I’m saying I like them. Your style is like you—a sucker punch people don’t see coming.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“Fate is the excuse people use to justify when life-altering things happen, when in reality it’s the result of the decisions they make—and maybe a dash of pure dumb luck. Good or bad, people’s actions determine their future. Cause and effect. Action, reaction. Blaming things on fate only downplays the importance of choice.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“I want a partner who can stand side by side with me, not a step behind, so we can forge the best future possible together.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“You gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, you might feel the same way about me as I feel about you.” “How do you feel about me?” I whisper. “Usually? Irritation and an extreme urge to shove a whipped-cream pie in your face. But also, desperation. Desire. And, fuck, I want to kiss you.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
“No more drifting along in my own life, floating wherever the current takes me. I’m behind the wheel and I make my own choices.” ― Angie Hockman, Dream On
“it, mold it, and make it everything you want it to be.” ― Angie Hockman, Shipped
