How nice her hair is, Joe thought, and how graciously she brushes it back with her fingers. Her eyes are so bright, they make me happy.
He was looking at his colleague Veronica from across the room in the middle of a seminar. She was opening a three-ring binder, about to read some data from graphs and charts. He imagined she understood it all and had some interesting opinions about it. He loved her attitude, her no-bullshit policy.
He was remembering the conversation they had over lunch, analyzing every sentence, looking for clues that would tell him whether she liked him.
Joe had been in love with women before. He knew he would not do anything about it. He knew it would pass. He braced for the happiness of fascination and the pain of longing.