“Decided against the coffee?” Atlas asked, pulling back into the present.

“Uh… yeah. I had a couple of sips, but I’m jittery enough. It would have been a mistake.”

“I probably should have done the same, but you know…Y.O.L.O.”

I cringed inwardly. “Yeah…Y.O.L.O.,” I echoed then pulled out my chair.

My son used that horrible slang phrase when he was in middle school. Was this Atlas in the same age bracket? Now I felt a little gross about lusting over someone who was probably only a few years older than my high school-age son.

Yuck.

I laughed at myself again. Unloaded my bag.

Stay on task, Sonja.

“Okay… It looks like everyone is here!” Atlas said. “Let’s get started.” He clapped his hands together and moved toward the front of the room. “Welcome to The CoWorking Spot. I’m Atlas James, and I’m going to be your instructor for this cohort of the Entrepreneur Academy. A little bit about me…Yes, my name is really Atlas, but I don’t think my mother named me that in anticipation of me having shoulders big and strong enough to carry the world on them, but it helps that I grew into it.”

We all laughed at that, and he seemed to relax a little bit.

“I’m a business coach for creative people who want to use their talents to make money. I’ve been at that for a little over six years. Before that, my best friend and I built a tiny home in a step-up panel truck, and I traveled to every state in the continental US because I was that anxious to get away from here. I have two degrees, business, and MBA in marketing, both of which used to build and run this business. Now…” He looked from one end of the table to the next, and then his eyes settled on me. “I’d like to get to know all of you.”

My mouth suddenly went dry, and my nipples drew up into tight little buds against the thin silken fabric of my bra. I folded my arms, leaned forward on the table, and prayed that he didn't ask me to go first. Nothing but squawking high pitched sounds would come out of me if he did.

Atlas smiled at me then turned his attention to one of the young girls at the far end of the table.

Thank God.

“You there in the pink sweater. State your name, state your business.”

Everyone at the table was at least ten or more years younger than me. They had internet jobs that I’d never heard of before — like social media manager and content strategist — that they’d joined the Entrepreneur Academy to grow. None of them had a business that sounded anything like mine.

“And what about you, Miss…” Atlas pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and pointed at me.

My brain short-circuited.