Hating Game

Dedication
InlovingmemoryofIvyStone
Contents
Dedication
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
AnExcerptfromTheComfortZone
AbouttheAuthor
Praise
Credits
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
Guide
Cover
Contents
Chapter1
i
ix
v
vi
vii
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
365
367
369
370
371
372
373
374Acknowledgments
Thisbookismydreamcometrue.
Ihavehadawonderfulcheersquadoffriendsencouragingmetopursuethisdream:KateWarnock,GemmaRuddick,LizKenneally,andKatieSaarikko.Eachhasplayedtheirparttosupport,push,andinspireme.You’reallprettyspecial.
ThankyoutoChristinaHobbsandLaurenBillingsforsupportingmywritingendeavorsandforintroducingmetomylovelyagent,TaylorHaggertyfromWaxmanLeavellLiteraryAgency.Taylor,thankyouforhelpingmetoachievethisdream.
ThankstothefriendlyandefficientpeopleatHarperCollins,especiallymyeditor,AmandaBergeron,formakingmefeellikeoneofthefamily.
Speakingoffamily,Iwanttosendlovetomyparents,SueandDavid,mybrother,Peter,andmyhusband,Roland.Rol,thankyouforbelievinginme.Eventhoughmypug,Delia,cannotread,shehasbeenremarkablysupportiveandIwillloveheruntiltheendoftime.
Carrie,whoeverorwhereveryouare:Thatoneword,nemesis,wassuchagift.Yougavemethepromptthatsparkedthisentirebook.Iamverygratefulthatyoudid.Chapter1
Ihaveatheory.Hatingsomeonefeelsdisturbinglysimilartobeinginlovewiththem.I’vehadalotoftimetocompareloveandhate,andthesearemyobservations.
Loveandhatearevisceral.Yourstomachtwistsatthethoughtofthatperson.Theheartinyourchestbeatsheavyandbright,nearlyvisiblethroughyourfleshandclothes.Yourappetiteandsleepareshredded.Everyinteractionspikesyourbloodwithadangerouskindofadrenaline,andyou’reonthebrinkoffightorflight.Yourbodyisbarelyunderyourcontrol.You’reconsumed,anditscaresyou.
Bothloveandhatearemirrorversionsofthesamegame—andyouhavetowin.Why?Yourheartandyourego.Trustme,Ishouldknow.
It’searlyFridayafternoon.I’mimprisonedatmydeskforanotherfewhours.IwishIwasinsolitaryconfinement,butunfortunatelyIhaveacellmate.Eachtickofhiswatchfeelslikeanothertallymark,chippedontothecellwall.
We’reengagedinoneofourchildishgames,whichrequiresnowords.Likeeverythingwedo,it’sdreadfullyimmature.
Thefirstthingtoknowaboutme:MynameisLucyHutton.I’mtheexecutiveassistanttoHelenePascal,theco-CEOofBexley&Gamin.
Onceuponatime,ourlittleGaminPublishingwasonthebrinkofcollapse.Therealityoftheeconomymeantpeoplehadnomoneyfortheirmortgagerepaymentsandliteraturewasaluxury.Bookstoreswereclosingalloverthecitylikecandlesbeingblownout.Webracedourselvesforalmostcertainclosure.
Attheeleventhhour,adealwasstruckwithanotherstrugglingpublishinghouse.GaminPublishingwasforcedintoanarrangedmarriagewiththecrumblingevilempireknownasBexleyBooks,ruledbytheunbearableMr.Bexleyhimself.
Eachcompanystubbornlybelievingitwassavingtheother,theybothpackedupandmovedintotheirnewmaritalhome.Neitherpartywasremotelyhappyaboutit.TheBexleysrememberedtheiroldlunchroomfoosballtablewithsepia-tintednostalgia.Theycouldn’tbelievetheairy-fairyGaminshadsurvivedeventhislong,withtheirlaxadherencetokeyperformanceindicatortargetsanddreamyinsistenceonLiteratureasArt.TheBexleysbelievednumbersweremoreimportantthanwords.Bookswereunits.Selltheunits.High-fivetheteam.Repeat.
TheGaminsshudderedinhorrorwatchingtheirboisterousnewstepbrotherspracticallytearingthepagesoutoftheirBront?sandAustens.HowhadBexleymanagedtoamasssomanylike-mindedstuffedshirts,farmoresuitedtoaccountancyorlaw?Gaminsresentedthenotionofbooksasunits.Bookswere,andalwayswouldbe,somethingalittlemagicandsomethingtorespect.
Oneyearon,youcanstilltellataglancewhichcompanysomeonecamefrombyhisorherphysicalappearance.TheBexleysarehardgeometrics,theGaminsaresoftscribbles.Bexleysmoveinsharkpacks,talkingfiguresandconstantlyhoggingtheconferenceroomsfortheirominousPlanningSessions.Plottingsessions,morelike.Gaminshuddleintheircubicles,gentledovesinclocktowers,poringovermanuscripts,searchingforthenextliterarysensation.Theairsurroundingthemisperfumedwithjasmineteaandpaper.Shakespeareistheirpinupboy.
Themovetoanewbuildingwasalittletraumatizing,especiallyfortheGamins.Takeamapofthiscity.Makeastraightlinebetweeneachoftheoldcompanybuildings,markareddotexactlyhalfwaybetweenthemandhereweare.ThenewBexley&Gaminisacheapgraycementtoadsquattingonamajortrafficroute,impossibletomergeontointheafternoon.It’sarcticinthemorningshadowsandsweatybytheafternoon.Thebuildinghasoneredeemingfeature:Somebasementparking—usuallysnaggedbytheearlyrisers,orshouldIsay,theBexleys.
HelenePascalandMr.Bexleyhadtouredthebuildingpriortothemoveandararethinghappened:Theybothagreedonsomething.Thetopfloorofthebuildingwasaninsult.Onlyoneexecutiveoffice?Atotalrefitwasneeded.
Afteranhour-longbrainstormthatwasfilledwithsomuchhostilitytheinteriordesigner’seyessparkledwithunshedtears,theonlywordHeleneandMr.Bexleywouldagreeontodescribethenewaestheticwasshiny.Itwastheirlastagreement,ever.Therefitdefinitelyfulfilledthedesignbrief.Thetenthfloorisnowacubeofglass,chrome,andblacktile.Youcouldpluckyoureyebrowsusinganysurfaceasamirror—walls,floors,ceiling.Evenourdesksaremadefromhugesheetsofglass.
I’mfocusedonthegreatbigreflectionoppositeme.Iraisemyhandandlookatmynails.Myreflectionfollows.Istrokethroughmyhairandstraightenmycollar.I’vebeeninatrance.I’dalmostforgottenI’mstillplayingthisgamewithJoshua.
I’msittingherewithacellmatebecauseeverypower-crazedwargeneralhasasecondincommandtodothedirtywork.Sharinganassistantwasneveranoption,becauseitwouldhaverequiredaconcessionfromoneoftheCEOs.Wewereeachpluggedinoutsidethetwonewofficedoors,andlefttofendforourselves.
ItwaslikebeingpushedintotheColosseum’sarena,onlytofindIwasn’talone.
Iraisemyrighthandagainnow.Myreflectionfollowssmoothly.Irestmychinonmypalmandsighdeeply,anditresonatesandechoes.IraisemylefteyebrowbecauseIknowhecan’t,andaspredictedhisforeheadpinchesuselessly.I’vewonthegame.Thethrilldoesnottranslateintoanexpressiononmyface.Iremainasplacidandexpressionlessasadoll.Wesitherewithourchinsonourhandsandstareintoeachother’seyes.
I’mneveraloneinhere.SittingoppositemeistheexecutiveassistanttoMr.Bexley.Hishenchmanandmanservant.Thesecondthing,themostessentialthinganyoneneedstoknowaboutme,isthis:IhateJoshuaTempleman.
He’scurrentlycopyingeverymoveImake.It’stheMirrorGame.Tothecasualobserveritwouldn’tbeimmediatelyobvious;he’sassubtleasashadow.Butnottome.Eachmovementofmineisreplicatedonhissideoftheofficeonaslighttimedelay.Iliftmychinfrommypalmandswiveltomydesk,andsmoothlyhedoesthesame.I’mtwenty-eightyearsoldanditseemsI’vefallenthroughthecracksofheavenandhellandintopurgatory.Akindergartenclassroom.Anasylum.
Itypemypassword:IHATEJOSHUA4EV@.MypreviouspasswordshaveallbeenvariationsonhowmuchIhateJoshua.ForEver.HispasswordisalmostcertainlyIHateLucinda4Eva.Myphonerings.JulieAtkins,fromcopyrightsandpermissions,anotherthorninmyside.Ifeellikeunpluggingmyphoneandthrowingitintoanincinerator.
“Hello,howareyou?”Ialwaysputanextralittlebitofwarmthintomyvoiceonthephone.Acrosstheroom,Joshua’seyesrollashebeginspunishinghiskeyboard.
“Ihaveafavortoask,Lucy.”Icanalmostmouththenextwordsasshespeaksthem.
“Ineedanextensiononthemonthlyreport.IthinkI’mgettingamigraine.Ican’tlookatthisscreenanylonger.”She’soneofthosehorrificpeoplewhopronouncesitme-graine
“Ofcourse,Iunderstand.Whencanyougetitdone?”
“You’rethebest.It’dbeinbyMondayafternoon.Ineedtocomeinlate.”
IfIsayyes,I’llhavetostaylateMondaynighttohavethereportdoneforTuesday’snineA.M.executivemeeting.Already,nextweeksucks.
“Okay.”Mystomachfeelstight.“Assoonasyoucan,please.”
“Oh,andBriancan’tgethisintodayeither.You’resonice.Iappreciatehowkindyou’rebeing.Wewereallsayingyou’rethebestpersontodealwithupthereinexec.Somepeopleuptherearetotalnightmares.”Hersugarywordshelpeasetheresentmentalittle.
“Noproblem.TalktoyouMonday.”Ihangupanddon’tevenneedtolookatJoshua.Iknowhe’sshakinghishead.
AfterafewminutesIglanceathim,andheisstaringatme.Imagineit’stwominutesbeforethebiggestinterviewofyourlife,andyoulookdownatyourwhiteshirt.Yourpeacock-bluefountainpenhasleakedthroughyourpocket.Yourheadexplodeswithanobscenityandyourstomachisaspikeofpanicoverthesimmeringnerves.You’reanidiotandeverything’sruined.That’stheexactcolorofJoshua’seyeswhenhelooksatme.
IwishIcouldsayhe’sugly.Heshouldbeashort,fattroll,withacleftpalateandwateryeyes.Alimpinghunchback.Wartsandzits.Yellow-cheeseteethandonionsweat.Buthe’snot.He’sprettymuchtheopposite.Moreproofthere’snojusticeinthisworld.
Myinboxpings.IflickmyeyesabruptlyawayfromJoshua’snon-uglinessandnoticeHelenehassentthrougharequestforbudgetforecastingfigures.Iopenuplastmonth’sreportforreferenceandbegin.
Idoubtthismonth’soutlookisgoingtobemuchofanimprovement.Thepublishingindustryisslidingfurtherdownhill.I’veheardthewordrestructureechoingafewtimesaroundthesehalls,andIknowwherethatleads.EverytimeIstepoutoftheelevatorandseeJoshuaIaskmyself:WhyIdon’tgetanewjob?
I’vebeenfascinatedbypublishinghousessinceapivotalfieldtripwhenIwaseleven.Iwasalreadyapassionatedevourerofbooks.Myliferevolvedaroundtheweeklytriptothetownlibrary.I’dborrowthemaximumnumberoftitlesallowedandIcouldidentifyindividuallibrariansbythesoundtheirshoesmadeastheymovedupeachaisle.Untilthatfieldtrip,Iwashell-bentonbeingalibrarianmyself.I’devenimplementedacatalogingsystemformyownpersonalcollection.Iwassuchalittlebooknerd.
Beforeourtriptothepublishinghouse,I’dneverthoughtmuchabouthowabookcametoactuallyexistItwasarevelation.Youcouldbepaidtofindauthors,readbooks,andultimatelycreatethem?Brand-newcoversandperfectpageswithnodog-earsorpencilannotations?Mymindwasblown.Ilovednewbooks.Theyweremyfavoritetoborrow.ItoldmyparentswhenIgothome,I’mgoingtoworkatapublisherwhenIgrowup.
It’sgreatthatI’mfulfillingachildhooddream.ButifI’mhonest,atthemomentthemainreasonIdon’tgetanewjobis:Ican’tletJoshuawinthis.
AsIwork,allIcanheararehismachine-gunkeystrokesandthefaintwhistleofairconditioning.Heoccasionallypicksuphiscalculatorandtapsonit.Iwouldn’tmindbettingMr.BexleyhasalsodirectedJoshuatoruntheforecastingfigures.Thenthetwoco-CEOscanmarchintobattle,armedwithnumbersthatmaynotmatch.Theidealfuelfortheirbonfireofhatred.
“Excuseme,Joshua.”
Hedoesn’tacknowledgemeforafullminute.Hiskeystrokesintensify.Beethovenonapianohasnothingonhimrightnow.
“Whatisit,Lucinda?”
NotevenmyparentscallmeLucinda.Iclenchmyjawbutthenguiltilyreleasethemuscles.Mydentisthasbeggedmetomakeaconsciouseffort.
“Areyouworkingontheforecastingfiguresfornextquarter?”
Heliftsbothhandsfromhiskeyboardandstaresatme.“No.”
Iletouthalfalungfulofairandturnbacktomydesk.
“Ifinishedthosetwohoursago.”Heresumestyping.Ilookatmyopenspreadsheetandcounttoten.
WebothworkfastandhavereputationsforbeingFinishers—youknow,thetypeofworkerwhocompletesthenasty,too-hardtaskseveryoneelseavoids.
Iprefertositdownwithpeopleanddiscussthingsface-to-face.Joshuaisstrictlyemail.Atthefootofhisemailsisalways:Rgds,J.WoulditkillhimtotypeRegards,Joshua?It’stoomanykeystrokes,apparently.Heprobablyknowsoffhandhowmanyminutesayearhe’ssavingB&G.
We’reevenlymatched,butwearecompletelyatodds.ItrymyhardesttolookcorporatebuteverythingIownisslightlywrongforB&G.I’maGamintothebone.Mylipstickistoored,myhairtoounruly.Myshoesclicktooloudlyonthetilefloors.Ican’tseemtohandovermycreditcardtopurchaseablacksuit.IneverhadtowearoneatGamin,andI’mstubbornlyrefusingtoassimilatewiththeBexleys.Mywardrobeisknitsandretro.Asortofcoollibrarianchic,Ihope.
Ittakesmeforty-fiveminutestocompletethetask.Iracetheclock,eventhoughnumbersarenotmyforte,becauseIimagineitwouldhavetakenJoshuaanhour.EveninmyheadIcompetewithhim.
“Thanks,Lucy!”IhearHelenecallfaintlyfrombehindhershinyofficedoorwhenIsendthedocumentthrough.
Irecheckmyinbox.Everything’suptodate.Ichecktheclock.ThreefifteenP.M.Icheckmylipstickinthereflectionoftheshinywalltilenearmycomputermonitor.IcheckJoshua,whoisgloweringatmewithcontempt.Istareback.NowweareplayingtheStaringGame.
Ishouldmentionthattheultimateaimofallourgamesistomaketheothersmile,orcry.It’ssomethinglikethat.I’llknowwhenIwin.
ImadeamistakewhenIfirstmetJoshua:Ismiledathim.Mybestsunnysmilewithallmyteeth,myeyessparklingwithstupidoptimismthatthebusinessmergerwasn’ttheworstthingtoeverhappentome.Hiseyesscannedmefromthetopofmyheadtothesolesofmyshoes.I’monlyfivefeettallsoitdidn’ttakelong.Thenhelookedawayoutthewindow.Hedidnotsmileback,andsomehowIfeellikehe’sbeencarryingmysmilearoundinhisbreastpocketeversince.He’soneup.Afterourinitialpoorstart,itonlytookafewweeksforustosuccumbtoourmutualhostility.Likewaterdrippingintoabathtub,eventuallyitbegantooverflow.
IyawnbehindmyhandandlookatJoshua’sbreastpocket,restingagainsthisleftpectoral.Hewearsanidenticalbusinessshirteveryday,inadifferentcolor.White,off-whitestripe,cream,paleyellow,mustard,babyblue,robin’s-eggblue,dove-gray,navy,andblack.Theyarewornintheirunchangingsequence.
Incidentally,myfavoriteofhisshirtsisrobin’s-eggblue,andmyleastfavoriteismustard,whichheiswearingnow.Alltheshirtslookfineonhim.Allcolorssuithim.IfIworemustard,I’dlooklikeacadaver.Buttherehesits,lookingasgolden-skinnedandhealthyasever.
“Mustardtoday,”Iobservealoud.WhydoIpokethehornet’snest?“Justcan’twaitforbabyblueonMonday.”
Thelookhegivesmeisbothsmugandirritated.“Younoticesomuchaboutme,Shortcake.ButcanIremindyouthatcommentsaboutappearanceareagainsttheB&Ghumanresourcespolicy.”
Ah,theHRGame.Wehaven’tplayedthisoneinages.“StopcallingmeShortcakeorI’llreportyoutoHR.”
Weeachkeepalogontheother.Icanonlyassumehedoes;heseemstorememberallofmytransgressions.Mineisapassword-protecteddocumenthiddenonmypersonaldriveanditjournalsalltheshitthathasevergonedownbetweenJoshuaTemplemanandme.WehaveeachcomplainedtoHRfourtimesoverthispastyear.
He’sreceivedaverbalandwrittenwarningaboutthenicknamehehasforme.I’vereceivedtwowarnings;oneforverbalabuseandforajuvenileprankthatgotoutofhand.I’mnotproud.
Hecannotseemtoformulateareplyandweresumestaringateachother.
ILOOKFORWARDtoJoshua’sshirtsgettingdarker.It’snavytoday,whichleadstoblack.GorgeousPaydayBlack.
Myfinancesaresomethinglikethis.I’mabouttowalktwenty-fiveminutesfromB&GtopickupmycarfromJerry(“theMechanic”)andmeltmycreditcardtowithinoneinchofitsmaximumlimit.PaydaycomestomorrowandIwillpaythecreditcardbalance.Mycarwilloozemoreoilydarkstuffallweekend,whichIwillnoticebythetimeJoshua’sshirtsarethewhiteofaunicorn’sflank.IcallJerry.Ireturnthecarandsubsistonashoestringbudget.Theshirtsgetdarker.I’vegottodosomethingaboutthatcar.
JoshuaiscurrentlyleaningonMr.Bexley’sdoorframe.Hisbodyfillsmostofthedoorway.IcanseethisbecauseI’mspyingviathereflectiononthewallnearmymonitor.Ihearahusky,softlaugh,nothinglikeMr.Bexley’sdonkeybray.Irubmypalmsdownmyforearmstoflattenthetinyhairs.Iwillnotturnmyheadtotrytoseeproperly.He’llcatchme.Healwaysdoes.ThenI’llgetafrown.
TheclockisgrindingslowlytowardfiveP.M.andIcanseethundercloudsthroughthedustywindows.Heleneleftanhourago—oneoftheperksofbeingco-CEOisworkingthehoursofaschoolchildanddelegatingeverythingtome.Mr.Bexleyspendslongerhoursherebecausehischairiswaytoocomfortableandwhentheafternoonsunslantsin,hetendstodoze.
Idon’tmeantosoundlikeJoshuaandIarerunningthetopfloor,butfranklyitfeelslikeitsometimes.ThefinanceandsalesteamsreportdirectlytoJoshuaandhefiltersthehugeamountsofdataintoabite-sizereportthathespoon-feedstoastruggling,red-facedMr.Bexley.
Ihavetheeditorial,corporate,andmarketingteamsreportingtome,andeachmonthIcondensetheirmonthlyreportsintooneforHelene…andIsupposeIspoon-feedittohertoo.Ispiral-binditsoshecanreaditwhenshe’sonthestepper.Iuseherfavoritefont.Everydayhereisachallenge,aprivilege,asacrifice,andafrustration.ButwhenIthinkabouteverylittlestepI’vetakentobehereinthisplace,startingfromwhenIwaselevenyearsold,Irefocus.Iremember.AndIendureJoshuaforalittlelonger.
Ibringhomemadecakestomymeetingswiththedivisionheadsandtheyalladoreme.I’mdescribedas“worthmyweightingold.”Joshuabringsbadnewstohisdivisionalmeetingsandhisweightismeasuredinothersubstances.
Mr.Bexleystumpspastmydesknow,briefcaseinhand.HemustshopatHumptyDumpty’sBig&SmallMenswear.Howelsecouldhefindsuchshort,broadsuits?He’sbalding,liver-spotted,andrichassin.HisgrandfatherstartedBexleyBooks.HelovestoremindHelenethatshewasmerelyhired.Heisanolddegenerate,accordingtobothHeleneandmyownprivateobservations.Imakemyselfsmileupathim.HisfirstnameisRichard.FatLittleDick
“Goodnight,Mr.Bexley.”
“Goodnight,Lucy.”Hepausesbymydesktolookdownthefrontofmyredsilkblouse.
“IhopeJoshuapassedonthecopyofTheGlassDarklyIpickedupforyou?Thefirstofthefirst.”
FatLittleDickhasahugebookshelffilledwitheveryB&Grelease.Eachbookisthefirstoffthepress;atraditionstartedbyhisgrandfather.Helovestobragaboutthemtovisitors,butIoncelookedattheshelvesandthespinesweren’tevencracked.
“Youpickeditup,eh?”Mr.BexleyorbitsaroundtolookatJoshua.“Youdidn’tmentionthat,DoctorJosh.”
FatLittleDickprobablycallshimDoctorJoshbecausehe’ssoclinical.IheardsomeonesaywhenthingsgotparticularlybadatBexleyBooks,Joshuamastermindedthesurgicalremovalofone-thirdoftheirworkforce.Idon’tknowhowhesleepsatnight.
“Aslongasyougetit,itdoesn’tmatter,”JoshuarepliessmoothlyandhisbossremembersthatheisTheBoss.
“Yes,yes,”hechuffsandlooksdownmytopagain.“Goodwork,youpair.”
HegetsintotheelevatorandIlookdownatmyshirt.Allthebuttonsaredoneup.Whatcouldheevensee?Iglanceupatthemirroredtilesontheceilingandcanfaintlyseeatinytriangleofshadowedcleavage.
“Ifyoubuttoneditanyhigher,wewouldn’tseeyourface,”Joshuasaystohiscomputerscreenashelogsoff.
“Perhapsyoucouldtellyourbosstolookatmyfaceoccasionally.”Ialsologoff.
“He’sprobablytryingtoseeyourcircuitboard.Orwonderingwhatkindoffuelyourunon.”
Ishrugonmycoat.“Justfueledbymyhateforyou.”
Josh’smouthtwitchesonce,andInearlyhadhimthere.Iwatchhimrolldownaneutralexpression.“Ifitbothersyou,youshouldspeaktohim.Standupforyourself.So,paintingyournailstonight,desperatelyalone?”
Luckyguessonhispart?“Yes.Masturbatingandcryingintoyourpillowtonight,DoctorJosh?”
Helooksatthetopbuttonofmyshirt.“Yes.Anddon’tcallmethat.”
Iswallowdownabubbleoflaughter.Wejostleeachotherinanunfriendlywayaswegetintotheelevator.HehitsB,butIhitG.
“Hitchhiking?”
“Car’sattheshop.”Istepintomyballetflatsandtuckmyheelsintomybag.NowI’mevenshorter.InthedullpolishoftheelevatordoorsIcanseethatIbarelycomehalfwayuphisbicep.IlooklikeaChihuahuanexttoaGreatDane.
Theelevatordoorsopentothebuildingfoyer.TheworldoutsideB&Gisabluehaze;refrigeratorcold,filledwithrapistsandmurderersandlightlysprinklingrain.Asheetofnewspaperblowspast,rightoncue.
Heholdstheelevatordooropenwithoneenormoushandandleansouttolookattheweather.Thenheswingsthosedarkblueeyestomine,hisbrowbeginningtocrease.Thefamiliarbubbleformsinmyhead.Iwishhewasmyfriend.Iburstitwithapin.
“I’llgiveyouaride,”heforcesout.
“Ugh,noway,”Isayovermyshoulderandrun.Chapter2
It’sCreamShirtWednesday.Joshuaisoffonalatelunch.He’smadeafewmorecommentstomelatelyaboutthingsIlikeanddo.TheyhavebeensoaccurateI’mprettysurehe’sbeensnoopingthroughmystuff.Knowledgeispower,andIdon’thavemuch.
First,Iconductaforensicexaminationofmydesk.BothHeleneandMr.Bexleydespisecomputerizedcalendars,andsowehavetokeepmatchingpaperschedulebookslikewe’reDickensianlawclerks.Inmine,there’sonlyHelene’sappointments.Iobsessivelylockmycomputer,evenifIgototheprinter.MyunlockedcomputerinthevicinityofJoshua?Imayaswellhandhimthenuclearcodesnow.
BackatGaminPublishing,mydeskwasafortmadeofbooks.Ikeptmypensinthegapsbetweentheirspines.WhenIwasunpackinginthenewoffice,IsawhowsterileJoshuakepthisdeskandfeltincrediblychildish.ItookmyWordoftheDaycalendarandSmurffigurineshomeagain.
Beforethemerger,Ihadabestfriendatwork.ValStoneandIwouldsitontheworn-outleathercouchesinthebreakroomandplayourfavoritegame:systematicallydefacingphotographsofbeautifulpeopleinmagazines.I’daddamoustacheontoNaomiCampbell.Valwouldtheninkoutamissingtooth.Soonitwasanonslaughtofscarsandeyepatchesandbloodshoteyesanddevilhornsuntilthepicturewassoruinedwe’dgetboredandstartanother.
ValwasoneofthestaffwhowascutandshewasfuriousIdidn’tgivehersomekindofawarning.NotthatIwouldhavebeenallowedto,evenifIhadknown.Shedidn’tbelieveme.Iturnslowly,andmyreflectionspinsofftwentydifferentsurfaces.Iseemyselfineverysizefrommusicboxtosilverscreen.Mycherry-redskirtflipsoutandIpirouetteagainonce,justforthehellofit,tryingtoshakeawaythesick,troubledfeelingIgetwheneverIthinkofVal.
Anyway,myauditconfirmsthatmydeskhasared,black,andbluepen.PinkPost-its.Onetubeoflipstick.Aboxoftissuesforblottingmylipstickandtearsoffrustration.Myplanner.Nothingelse.
Idoalightshufflingtapdanceacrossthemarblesuperhighway.I’minJoshuaCountrynow.Isitinhischairandlookateverythingthroughhiseyes.Hischairissohighmytoesdon’ttouchtheground.Iwigglemybuttalittledeeperintotheleather.Itfeelscompletelyobscene.Ikeeponeeyepermanentlyswiveledtowardtheelevator,andusetheothertoexaminehisdeskforclues.
Hisdeskisthemaleversionofmine.BluePost-its.Hehasasharppencilinwithhisthreepens.Insteadoflipstickhehasatinofmints.Istealoneandputitinthetiny,previouslyuselesspocketofmyskirt.Iimaginemyselfinthelaxativesectionofthedrugstoretryingtofindagoodmatchandhaveagoodlittlesnicker.Ijigglehisdeskdrawer.Locked.Soishiscomputer.FortKnox.Wellplayed,Templeman.Imakeafewunsuccessfulguessesathispassword.Maybehedoesn’thateme4eva.
There’snolittleframedphotoofapartnerorlovedoneonthisdesk.Nogrinning,happydogortropicalbeachmemento.Idoubtheesteemsanyoneenoughtoframetheirlikeness.DuringoneofJoshua’sferventlittlesalesrants,FatLittleDickboomedsarcastically,We’vegottogetyoulaid,DoctorJosh
Joshuareplied,You’reright,boss.I’veseenwhatabaddroughtcandotosomeone.Hesaiditwhilelookingatme.Iknowthedate.IdiarizeditinmyHRlog.
Igetalittletingleinmynostrils.Joshua’scologne?Thepheromoneheleachesfromhispores?Gross.Iflipopenhisdayplannerandnoticesomething;alightcodeofpencilrunningdownthecolumnsofeachday.FeelingincrediblyJamesBond–ish,Iraisemyphoneandmanagetotakeonesingleframe.
Ihearthecablesintheelevatorshaftandleaptomyfeet.Ivaulttotheothersideofhisdeskandmanagetoslamtheplannershutbeforethedoorsspringopenandheappears.Hischairisstillspinninggentlyoutofthecornerofmyeye.Busted.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Myphoneisnowsafelydownthewaistbandofmyunderwear.Notetoself:Disinfectphone.
“Nothing.”There’satremorinmyvoice,convictingmeinstantly.“Iwastryingtoseeifit’sgoingtorainthisafternoon.Ibumpedyourchair.Sorry.”
HeadvanceslikeafloatingDracula.Themenaceisruinedbythesporting-goods-storebagloudlycrinklingagainsthisleg.Ashoeboxisinit,judgingfromtheshape.
ImaginethewretchedsalesassistantwhohadtohelpJoshuachooseshoes.IrequireshoestoensureIcaneffectivelyrundownthetargetsIampaidtoassassinateinmysparetime.Irequirethebestvalueformymoney.Iamsizeeleven.
Helooksathisdesk,hiscomputer’sinnocuouslog-inscreen,hisclosedplanner.Iforcemybreathoutinacontrolledhiss.Joshuadropshisbagonthefloor.Hestepssoclosehisleathershoetouchesthetipofmylittlepatentheels.
“Nowwhydon’tyoutellmewhatyouwereactuallydoingnearmydesk?”
WehaveneverdonetheStaringGamethisclose.I’mapip-squeakatexactlyfivefeettall.It’sbeenmylifelongcrosstobear.Mylackofheightisanagonizingtopicofconversation.Joshuaisatleastsix-four.Five.Six.Maybemore.Agiantofahuman.Andhe’sbuiltoutofheavymaterials.
Gamely,Imaintaineyecontact.IcanstandwhereverIlikeinthisoffice.Screwhim.Likeathreatenedanimaltryingtolookbigger,Iputmyhandsonmyhips.
He’snotugly,asI’vementioned,butIalwaysstruggletoworkouthowtodescribehim.Iremembereatingmydinneronthecouchawhileback,andasoft-newspiececameontheTV.AnoldSupermancomicbooksoldforarecordpriceatauction.Asthewhite-glovedhandturnedthepages,theold-fashioneddrawingsofClarkKentremindedmeofJoshua
LikeClarkKent,Joshua’sheightandstrengtharealltuckedawayunderclothesdesignedtoconcealandhelphimblendintoacrowd.NobodyattheDailyPlanetknowsanythingaboutClark.Underneaththesebutton-upshirts,JoshuacouldberelativelyfeaturelessorrippedlikeSuperman.It’samystery.
Hedoesn’thavetheforeheadcurlorthenerdyblackglasses,buthe’sgotthestrongmasculinejawlineandsulky,prettymouth.I’vebeenthinkingallthistimehishairisblackbutnowthatI’mcloser,Icanseeitisdarkbrown.Hedoesn’tcombitasneatlyasClarkdoes.He’sdefinitelygottheink-blueeyesandthelaserstare,andprobablysomeoftheothersuperpowers,too.
ButClarkKentissuchadarling;allbumblingandsoft.Joshuaishardlythemild-manneredreporter.He’sasarcastic,cynical,BizarroClarkKent,terrorizingeveryoneinthenewsroomandpissingoffpoorlittleLoisLaneuntilshescreamsintoherpillowatnight.
Idon’tlikebigguys.They’retoomuchlikehorses.Theycouldtrampleyouifyougotunderfoot.HeisauditingmyappearancewiththesamenarrowedeyesthatIam.Iwonderwhatthetopofmyheadlookslike.I’msureheonlyfornicateswithAmazons.Ourstaresclashandmaybecomparingthemtoaninkstainwasatadtooharsh.Thoseeyesarewastedonhim.
Toavoiddying,Ireluctantlybreatheinasteadylungfulofcedar-pinespice.Hesmellslikeafreshlysharpenedpencil.AChristmastreeinacold,darkroom.Despitethetendonsinmyneckbeginningtocramp,Idon’tpermitmyselftolowermyeyes.Imightlookathismouththen,andIgetagoodenoughviewofhismouthwhenhe’stossinginsultsatmeacrosstheoffice.WhywouldIwanttoseeitupclose?Iwouldn’t.
Theelevatorbingsliketheanswertoallmyprayers.EnterAndythecourier.
Andylookslikeamovieextrawhoappearsinthecreditsas“Courier.”Leathery,midforties,cladinfluorescentyellow.Hissunglassessitlikeatiaraontopofhishead.Likemostcouriers,heenricheshisworkdaybyflirtingwitheveryfemaleundertheageofsixtyheencounters.
“LovelyLuce!”HeboomsitsoloudIhearFatLittleDickmakeawetsnortashejoltsawakeinhisoffice.
“Andy!”Ireturn,skitteringbackward.Icouldhonestlyhughimforinterruptingwhatwasfeelinglikeawholenewkindofstrangegame.Hehasasmallparcelinhishand,nobiggerthanaRubik’scube.It’sgottobemy1984baseball-playerSmurfette.Superrare,veryminty.I’vewantedherforeverandI’vebeenstalkingherjourneyviahertrackingnumber.
“IknowyouwantmetocallfromthefoyerwithyourSmurfs,butnoanswer.”
Mydeskphoneisdivertedtomypersonalcell,whichiscurrentlylocatednearmyhipboneinthewaistbandofmyunderwear.Sothat’swhatthebuzzingfeelingwas.Phew.IwasthinkingIneededmyheadchecked.
“Whatdoeshemean,Smurfs?”Joshuanarrowshiseyeslikewe’renuts.
“I’msureyou’rebusy,Andy,I’llletyougetoutofhere.”Igrabattheparcel,butit’stoolate.
“It’sherpassioninlife.ShelivesandbreathesSmurfs.Thoselittlebluepeople,yeabig.Theywearwhitehats.”Andyholdstwoofhisfingersaninchapart.
“IknowwhatSmurfsare.”Joshuaisirritated.
“Idon’tliveorbreathethem.”Myvoicebetraysthelie.Joshua’ssuddencoughsoundssuspiciouslylikealaugh.
“Smurfs,huh?Sothat’swhatthoselittleboxesare.Ithoughtmaybeyouwerebuyingyourtinyclothesonline.Doyouthinkit’sappropriatetogetpersonalitemsdeliveredtoyourworkplace,Lucinda?”
“She’sgotawholecabinetofthem.She’sgota…Whatisit,Luce?AThomasEdisonSmurf?He’sarareone,Josh.Herparentsgaveittoherforhighschoolgraduation.”Andyblithelycontinueshumiliatingme.
“Quietnow,Andy!Howareyou?How’syourdaygoing?”Isignforthepackageonhishandhelddevicewithasweatyhand.Himandhisbigmouth.
“YourparentsboughtyouaSmurfforgraduation?”Joshualoungesinhischairandwatchesmewithcynicalinterest.Ihopemybodydidn’twarmtheleather.
“Yeah,yeah,I’msureyougotacarorsomething.”I’mmortified.
“I’mfine,sweetheart,”Andytellsme,takingthelittlegizmobackfrommeandhittingseveralbuttonsandputtingitinhispocket.Nowthatthebusinesscomponentofourinteractioniscompleted,hepullshismouthintoabeguilinggrin.
“Allthebetterforseeingyou.Itellyou,Joshmyfriend,ifIsatoppositethisgorgeouslittlecreatureIwouldn’tgetanyworkdone.”
Andyhookshisthumbsintohispocketsandsmilesatme.Idon’twanttohurthisfeelingssoIrollmyeyesgood-humoredly.
“It’sastruggle,”Joshuasayssarcastically.“Begladyougettoleave.”
“Hemusthaveaheartofstone.”
“Hesuredoes.IfIcanknockhimoutandgethimintoacrate,canyouhavehimdeliveredsomewhereremote?”Ileanonmydeskandlookatmytinyparcel.
“Internationalshippingrateshaveincreased,”Andywarns.Joshuashakeshishead,boredwiththeconversation,andbeginstologon.
“I’vegotsomesavings.IthinkJoshuawouldloveanadventurevacationinZimbabwe.”
“You’vegotanevilstreak,haven’tyou!”Andy’spocketmakesabeepandhebeginstorummageandwalktotheelevator.
“Well,LovelyLuce,it’sbeenapleasureasalways.Iwillseeyousoon,nodoubt,afteryournextonlineauction.”
“Bye.”Whenhedisappearsintotheelevator,Iturnbacktomydesk,myfaceautomaticallyfadedtoneutral.
“Absolutelypathetic.”
ImakeaJeopardy!buzzersound.“WhoisJoshuaTempleman?”
“Lucindaflirtingwithcouriers.Pathetic.”
Joshuaishammeringawayonhiskeyboard.Hecertainlyisanimpressivetouchtypist.Istrollpasthisdeskandamgratifiedbyhisfrustratedbackspacing.
“I’mnicetohim.”
“You?Nice?”
I’msurprisedbyhowhurtIfeel.“I’mlovely.Askanyone.”
“Okay.Josh,isshelovely?”heaskshimselfaloud.“Hmm,letmethink.”
Hepicksuphistinofmints,opensthelid,checksthem,closesit,andlooksatme.Iopenmymouthandliftmytonguelikeamentalpatientatthemedicationwindow.
“She’sgotafewlovelythingsabouther,Isuppose.”
Iraiseafingerandenunciatethewordscrisply:“Humanresources.”
Hesitsupstraighterbutthecornerofhismouthmoves.IwishIcouldusemythumbstopullhismouthintoahugederangedgrin.AsthepolicedragmeoutinhandcuffsI’llbescreeching,Smile,goddamnyou.
Weneedtogeteven,becauseit’snotfair.He’sgottenoneofmysmiles,andseenmesmileatcountlessotherpeople.Ihaveneverseenhimsmile,norhaveIseenhisfacelookanythingbutblank,bored,surly,suspicious,watchful,resentful.Occasionallyhehasanotherlookonhisface,afterwe’vebeenarguing.HisSerialKillerexpression
Iwalkdownthecenterlineofthetileagainandfeelhisheadswivel.
“NotthatIcarewhatyouthink,butI’mwelllikedhere.Everyone’sexcitedaboutmybookclub,whichyou’vemadeprettyclearyouthinkislame,butitwillbeteambuilding,andprettyrelevant,givenwherewework.”
“You’reacaptainofindustry.”
“Itakethelibrarydonationsout.IplantheChristmasparty.Ilettheinternsfollowmearound.”I’mtickingthemoffonmyfingers.
“You’renotdoingmuchtoconvincemeyoudon’tcarewhatIthink.”Heleansbackfartherintohischair,longfingerslacedtogetherlooselyonhisgeneric,flatabdomen.Thebuttonnearhisthumbishalf-loose.Whatevermyfacedoes,itmakeshimglancedownandrebuttonit.
“Idon’tcarewhatyouthink,butIwantnormalpeopletolikeme.”
“You’rechronicallyaddictedtomakingpeopleadoreyou.”Thewayhesaysitmakesmefeelalittlesick.
“Well,excusemefordoingmybesttomaintainagoodreputation.Fortryingtobepositive.You’readdictedtomakingpeoplehateyou,sowhatapairweare.”
IsitdownandtapmycomputermouseabouttentimesashardasIcan.Hiswordssting.Joshuaislikeamirrorthatshowsmethebadpartsofmyself.It’sschoolalloveragain.Tiny,runt-of-the-litterLucyusingherpatheticcutenesstoavoidbeingdestroyedbythebigkids.I’vealwaysbeenthepet,theluckycharm,theonebeingpushedontheswingsorpulledinawagon.CarriedandcoddledandperhapsIamalittlepathetic.
“Youshouldtrynotgivingashitsometime.Itellyou,it’sliberating.”Hismouthtightens,andastrangeshadowcloudshisexpression.Oneblinkandit’sgone.
“Ididn’taskforyouradvice,Joshua.Igetsomadatmyself,lettingyoudragmedowntoyourlevelallthetime.”
“Andwhatlevelareyouimaginingmedraggingyoudownto?”Hisvoiceisalittlevelvetyandhebiteshislip.“Horizontal?”
MentallyIhitEnterinmyHRlogandbeginanewline.
“You’redisgusting.Gotohell.”IthinkI’llgotreatmyselftoabasementscream.
“Thereyougo.You’vegotnoproblemtellingmetogotohell.It’sagoodstart.Itkindofsuitsyou.Nowtryitwithotherpeople.Youdon’tevenrealizehowmuchpeoplewalkalloveryou.Howdoyouexpecttobetakenseriously?Quitgivingthesamepeopledeadlineextensions,monthaftermonth.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.”
“Julie.”
“It’snoteverymonth.”Ihatehimbecauseheisright.
“It’severysinglemonth,andyouhavetobustyourassworkinglatetomeetyourowndeadline.Doyouseemedoingthat?No.Thoseassholesdownstairsgiveittomeontime.”
Idredgeupaphrasefromtheassertivenessself-helpbookIkeeponmynightstand.
“Idon’twanttocontinuethisconversation.”
“I’mgivingyousomegoodadvicehere,youshouldtakeit.StoppickingupHelene’sdrycleaning—it’snotyourjob.”
“Iamnowendingthisconversation.”Istandup.MaybeI’llgoandplayintheafternoontraffictoletoffsteam.
“Andthecourier.Justleavehimalone.Thesadoldguythinksyou’reflirtingwithhim.”
“That’swhatpeoplesayaboutyou.”Theunfortunateretortfallsoutofmymouth.Itrytorewindtime.Itdoesn’twork.
“IsthatwhatyouthinkyouandIdo?Flirt?”
HereclinesbackinhischairinawayIcannevermanagetodo.Thebackofmychairdoesn’tbudgewhenI’vetriedtorecline.Ionlysucceedinrollingbackwardandbumpingintothewall.
“Shortcake,ifwewereflirting,you’dknowaboutit.”OureyescatchandIfeelaweirddropinside.Thisconversationisrunningofftherails.
“BecauseI’dbetraumatized?”
“Becauseyou’dbethinkingaboutitlateron,lyinginbed.”
“Beenimaginingmybed,haveyou?”Imanagetoreply.
Heblinks,anewrareexpressionspreadingacrosshisface.Iwanttoslapitoff.ItlookslikeheknowssomethingIdon’t.It’ssmugandmaleandIhateit.
“Ibetit’saverysmallbed.”
I’mnearlybreathingfire.Iwanttoroundhisdesk,kickhisfeetwider,andstandbetweenhisspreadlegs.I’dputonekneeonthelittletriangleofchairrightbelowhisgroin,climbupalittle,andmakehimgruntwithpain.
I’dpullhistielooseandunbuttontheneckofhisshirt.I’dputmyhandsaroundhisbigtanthroatandsqueezeandsqueeze,hisskinhotunderneathmyfingertips,hisbodystrugglingagainstme,cedarandpinespicingtheairbetweenus,burningmynostrilslikesmoke.
“Whatareyouimagining?Yourexpressionisfilthy.”
“Stranglingyou.Barehands.”Icanbarelygetthewordsout.I’mhuskierthanaphone-sexoperatorafteradoubleshift.
“Sothat’syourkink.”Hiseyesaregoingdark.
“Onlywhereyou’reconcerned.”
Bothhiseyebrowsratchetup,andheopenshismouthashiseyesgocompletelyblack,buthedoesnotseemtobeabletosayaword.
Itiswonderful.
IT’SABABY-BLUEshirtdaywhenIrememberthephotoItookofhisplanner.AfterIreadthePublishingQuarterlyOutlookReportandmakeanexecutivesummaryforHelene,Itransferthephotofrommyphonetomyworkcomputer.ThenIglancearoundlikeacriminal.
JoshuahasbeeninFatLittleDick’sofficeallmorning,andweirdlythemorninghasdragged.It’ssoquietinherewithoutsomeonetohate.
IhitPrint,lockmycomputer,andclatterdownthehall.Iphotocopyittwice,makingtheresolutiondarkeranddarkeruntilthepencilmarksarebettervisible.Needlesstosay,Ishredallunneededevidence.IwishIcoulddouble-shredit.
Joshua’sbegunlockingawayhisplannernow.
Ileanagainstthewallandtiltthepagetothelight.ThephotographcapturesaMondayandTuesdayacoupleofweeksback.IcanseeMr.Bexley’sappointmentseasily.ButnexttotheMondayisaletter.D.TheTuesdayisanS.Thereisatallyoftinylinesaddinguptoeight.Dotsnexttotimesnearlunchtime.AlineoffourX’sandsixlittleslashmarks.
Ipuzzlecovertlyoverthisallafternoon.I’mtemptedtogotosecurityandaskScottforthesecuritytapesforthistimeperiod,butHelenemightfindout.It’ddefinitelybeawasteofcompanyresourcestoo,overandabovemyillicitphotocopyingandgeneralslacking.
Theanswerdoesn’tcomeforsometime.It’slateafternoonandJoshuaisbackinhisregularseatacrossfromme.Hisblueshirtglowslikeaniceberg.WhenIfinallyworkouthowtodecodethepencilmarks,Islapmyforehead.Ican’tbelieveI’vebeensoslow.
“Thanks.I’vebeendyingtodothatallafternoon,”Joshuasayswithouttakinghiseyesfromhismonitor.
Hedoesn’tknowI’veseenhisplannerandthepencilcodes.I’llsimplynoticewhenheusesthepencilandworkoutthecorrelation.
LettheSpyingGamebegin.Chapter3
Idon’tgetquickresultswiththeSpyingGameandbythetimeJoshuaisdressedindovegrayI’matmywit’send.Hehassensedmyheightenedinterestinhisactivitiesandhasbecomeevenmorefurtiveandsuspicious.I’llhavetocoaxhimout.I’mnevergoingtoseethepencilinmotionifallhedoesishalffrownathiscomputer.
IstartagameIcallYou’reJustSo.Itgoeslikethis.“You’reJustSo…Ahh,nevermind.”Isigh.Hetakesthebait.
“Handsome.Intelligent.No,wait.Superiortoeveryone.You’recomingtoyoursenses,Lucinda.”
Joshualockshiscomputerandopenshisplanner,onehandhoveringoverthecupwiththepensandpencils.Iholdmybreath.Hefrownsandslapstheplannershut.Thegrayshirtshouldmakehimlooklikeacyborg,butheendsuplookinghandsomeandintelligent.Heistheworst.
“You’reJustSopredictable.”SomehowIknowthiswillcuthimdeep.Hiseyesbecomeslitsofhatred.
“Oh,amI?Howso?”
You’reJustSobasicallygivesbothplayersfreereintotelltheopponenthowmuchtheyhateeachother.
“Shirts.Moods.Patterns.Peoplelikeyoucan’tsucceed.Ifyoueveractedoutofcharacterandsurprisedme,I’ddieofshock.”
“AmItotakethisasapersonalchallenge?”Helooksathisdesk,apparentlydeepinthought.
“I’dliketoseeifyouattemptit.You’reJustSoinflexible.”
“AndYou’reJustSoflexible?”
“Very.”Ifellrightintothatone,andit’strue.Icouldgetmyfootuptomyfacerightnow.Irecoverbyraisinganeyebrowandlookingupattheceilingwithasmirk.BythetimeIlockeyeswithhimagain,mymouthisaneutrallittlerosebud,mirroredoffahundredglitteringsurfaces.
Hedropshiseyesslowlydowntothefloor,andIcrossmyankles,belatedlyrememberingIkickedoffmyshoesearlier.It’shardtobeagoodnemesiswhenyourbrightredtoenailsareshowing.
“IfIdidsomethingoutofcharacter,you’ddieofshock?”
Icanseemyfacemirroredonthepanelingnearhisshoulder.Ilooklikeablack-eyed,wild-manedversionofmyself.Mydarkhairfallsaroundmyshouldersinjaggedflames.
“Mightbeworthmywhilethen.”
MondaytoFriday,heturnsmeintoascary-lookingwoman.Ilooklikeagypsyfortune-tellerscreamingaboutyourimminentdeath.Acrazedlunaticinanasylum,secondsfromclawingherowneyesout.
“Well,well.LucindaHutton.Oneflexiblelittlegal.”Heisreclininginhischairagain.BothfeetareflatonthefloorandtheypointatmelikerevolversinaWildWestshootout.
“HR,”Iclipathim.I’mlosingthisgameandheknowsit.CallingHRisvirtuallyliketappingout.Hepicksupthepencilandpressesthesharpenedtipagainstthepadofhisthumb.Ifahumancouldgrinwithoutmovingtheirface,hejustdidit.
“Imeant,You’reJustSoflexibleinyourapproachtothings.Itmusthavebeenyourwholesomeupbringing,Shortcake.Whatdoyourparentsdoagain?Couldyouremindme?”
“Youknowexactlywhattheydo.”I’mtoobusyforthisnonsense.IgrabastackofoldPost-itsandbegintosortthem.
“Theyfarm…”
Helooksattheceiling,pretendingtobewrackinghisbrains.
“Theyfarm…”Heleavesitdanglingintheairforaneternity.It’sagony.Itrynottofillinthesilence,butthewordthatamuseshimsomuchcomesoutofmymouthlikeacurse.
“Strawberries.”HencethenicknameStrawberryShortcake.Iindulgemyselfinmolargrinding.Mydentistwillneverknow.
“SkyDiamondStrawberries.Cute.Look,I’vegottheblogbookmarked.”Hedoestwodouble-clickswithhismouseandswivelshiscomputerscreentofaceme.
IcringesohardIsprainsomethinginternally.Howdidhefindthis?Mymom’sprobablycallingouttomydadrightnow.Nigel,honey!Theblog’shadahit!
TheSkyDiamondDaily.Yes,youheardright.Daily.Ihaven’tcheckeditinawhilebecauseIcan’tkeepup.MomwasajournalistwiththelocalnewspaperwhenshemetDad,butshequittohaveme,andthentheyopenedthefarm.Whenyouknowherbackstory,thedailyentriesmakeasadkindofsense.IsquintatJoshua’sscreen.Today’sfeaturestoryisaboutirrigation.
Ourfarmsuppliesthreelocalfarmers’marketsaswellasagrocerychain.There’safieldfortouriststopicktheirownandMomsellsjarsofpreserves.Inhotweather,shemakeshomemadeicecream.SkyDiamondwascertifiedorganictwoyearsago,whichwasaprettybigdealforthem.Businessebbsandflows,dependentontheweather.
WhenIgohomeIstillhavetotakemyturnatthefrontgate,explainingtovisitorstheflavordifferencesbetweenEarliglowandDiamontestrawberries.CaminoRealsandEverbearers.Theyallsoundlikethenamesofcoololdcars.Notmanypeoplelookatmynamebadgeandmaketheconnectionwiththefarm’sname.TheBeatles’fanswhodoaredeeply,smuglypleasedwiththemselves.
IbetyoucanguesswhatIeatwhenI’mhomesick.
“No.Youdidn’t.Howdidyou—”
“Andyouknow,there’sthenicestfamilypicturesomewhere…here.”Heclicksagain,barelyneedingtoglanceatthescreen.Hiseyeslightwithevilamusementashewatchesme.
“Hownice.It’syourparents,right?Who’sthisadorablelittlegirlwithblackhair?Isityourlittlecousin?No…It’saprettyoldpicture.”Hemakesthepicturefillhisentirescreen.
I’mturningredderthanaflippin’strawberry.It’sme,ofcourse.It’saphotoIdon’tthinkI’veeverseen.Theblurredtreelineinthebackgroundorientsmeinstantly.Iturnedeightwhenmyparentsputthosenewrowsintothewestquarterblock.Businesswaspickingupthen,whichaccountsfortheprideinmyparents’smiles.I’mnotashamedofmyparents,butitneverceasestoamusethosewhowereraisedinthecity.Mostwhite-collarjackasseslikeJoshuafinditsoquaintandcute.Theyimaginemyfamilyassimplefolk,hillbilliesonthesideofahillcoveredinramblingvines.ForpeoplelikeJoshua,strawberriescomefromthestoreprepackagedinplasticboxes.
Inthispicture,I’msprawledatmyparents’feetlikeafoal.I’mwearingstained,dirtyshortoverallsandmycrinklydarkhairisascribble.Ihavemypatchworklibrarysatchelloopedaroundmybody,nodoubtcrammedwithTheBaby-SittersClubandold-fashionedhorsestories.Oneofmyhandsisinaplant,theotherfilledwithberries.I’mflushedfromsunandpossiblyavitaminCoverdose.Maybeit’swhyI’msosmall.Itstuntedmygrowth
“Youknow,shelooksalotlikeyou.MaybeIshouldsendthelinkinanall-staffemailtoB&G,askingthemwhotheythinkthiswildlittlegirlcouldbe.”Heisvisiblytremblingwiththeneedtolaugh.
“Iwillkillyou.”
Idolookcompletelywildinthisphoto.MyeyesarelighterthantheskyasIsquintagainstthesunanddomybestbigsmile.ThesamesmileI’vebeendoingallmylife.Ibegintofeelapressureinmythroat,aburninginmysinuses.
Istareatmyparents;they’rebothsoyoung.Mydad’sbackisstraightinthisphoto,buteachtimeIgohomehe’salittlemorestoopedover.IflickmyeyestoJoshua,andhedoesn’tlooklikehewantstolaughanymore.MyeyesprickwithtearsbeforeIstoptothinkofwhereIamandwhomI’msittingopposite.
Heturnshiscomputerscreenbackslowly,takinghistimeclosingthebrowser,atypicalmale,awkwardatthesightoffemaletears.Iswivelandlookupattheceiling,tryingtomakethemdrainbackdowntowheretheycamefrom.
“Butweweretalkingaboutme.WhatcanIdotobemorelikeyou?”Aneavesdropperwouldthinkhesoundsalmostkind.
“Youcouldtrytostopbeingsuchanasshole.”Itcomesoutinawhisper.InthereflectionontheceilingIseehisbrowbegintocrease.Ohlord.Concern.
Ourcomputerschimeareminder:All-staffmeeting,fifteenminutes.Ismoothmyeyebrowsandfixmylipstick,usingthewallasmymirror.Idragmyhairdownintoalowbunwithdifficulty,usingthehairelasticonmywrist.Iballupatissueandpressitintothecornerofeacheye.
Theunsaidwordhomesickcontinuestorattleinsidemychest.Lonely.WhenIopenmyeyes,Icanseehe’sstandingandcanseemyreflection.Thepencilisinhishand.
“What?”Isnapathim.He’swon.He’smademecry.Istandupandgrabafolder.Hegrabsafoldertoo,andwe’reseamlesslyintotheMirrorGame.Weeachknocklightlytwiceonourrespectiveboss’sdoor.
Comein,wearesimultaneouslybeckoned.
Heleneisfrowningathercomputer.She’smoreatypewriterkindofwoman.Sheusedonesometimesbeforewemovedhere,andIlovedhearingtherhythmicclackingofkeysfromheroffice.Nowit’sinoneofhercabinets.ShewasafraidofFatLittleDickmockingher.
“Hi.We’vegotanall-staffinfifteen,remember?Downinthemainboardroom.”
Shesighsheavilyandraiseshersilver-screeneyestome.They’rebig,dark,expressiveandsparselylashedunderfineeyebrows.Icandetectnotraceofmakeuponherfacebararoselipstick.
ShemovedherewithherparentsfromFrancewhenshewassixteenandeventhoughshe’snowinherearlyfifties,shestillhastheremnantsofagrowlypurrinhervoice.
Helenedoesn’tnoticethatsheiselegant,whichmakesherevenmoreso.
Shewearsherhairinashort,neatcut.Hershortnailsarealwayspaintedcreampink.ShebuysallofherclothesinParisbeforevisitingherelderlyparentsinSaint-étienne.Theplainwoolsweatershe’swearingnowprobablycostmorethanthreefullcartsofgroceries.
Incaseit’snotpainfullyclear,Iidolizeher.She’sthereasonIstoppedwearingsomucheyemakeup.IwanttobeherwhenIgrowup.
Herfavoritewordisdarling.“DarlingLucy,”shesaysnow,holdingoutherhand.Iputthefolderintoit.“Areyouallright?”
“Allergies.Myeyesareitchy.”
“Hmm,that’snogood.”
Shescanstheagenda.Forbiggermeetingswe’ddoabitmorepreparation,buttheall-staffsareprettystraightforwardsincethedivisionheadsaredoingmostofthetalking.TheCEOsaretheremainlytoshowinvolvement.
“Alanturnedfifty?”
“Iorderedacake.We’llbringitoutattheend.”
“Goodformorale,”Helenerepliesabsently.Sheopenshermouth,thenhesitates.Iwatchhertrytochooseherwords.
“BexleyandIaremakinganannouncementatthismeeting.It’sverysignificantforyou.We’lltalkaboutitstraightafterthemeeting.”
Mystomachtwists.I’mfiredforsure.
“No,it’sgoodnews,darling.”
Theall-staffmeetinggoesaccordingtoplan.Idon’tsitnexttoHeleneduringthesemeetings,butinsteadprefertositwiththeothers,minglingin.It’smywayofremindingthemI’mpartoftheteam,butIstillfeeltheirreservewithme.DotheyhonestlyimaginemesnitchingtoHeleneabouttheirshittydays?
JoshuasitsbesideFatLittleDickattheheadofthetable.Botharedislikedandseemtosittogetherinsideabubbleofinvisibility.
AlanispinkandpleasedwhenIbringoutthecake.He’sacrustyoldBexleyfromsomewhereinthebowelsofthefinancesection,whichmakesmefeelevenbetteraboutmakingtheeffortforhim.I’vepassedaprettyfrosting-coveredpeaceofferingoverthefencebetweenthetwocamps.It’showweGaminsroll.InBexleyvilletheyprobablymarkbirthdayswithanewcalculatorbattery
Theroomiscrowdedwithlatecomersleaningagainstthewallsandperchedonthelowwindowsill.Thebuzzingchatterisoverwhelmingcomparedtothesilenceofthetenthfloor.
Joshuahasn’ttouchedthewedgesofcakethatsitwithinarm’sreach.He’snotasnackerorevenaneater.Ifillourcavernousofficewiththerhythmicsoundsofmycarrotcrunchingandapplebiting.Ziplocsofpopcornandlittlepotsofyogurtdisappearintomybottomlesspit.Idemolishtinycrunchysmorgasbordseveryday,andincontrastJoshuaconsumespeppermints.He’stwicemysizeforheaven’ssake.He’snothuman.
WhenIcheckedthecake,I’dgroanedoutloud.OfALLthepossiblecakedecorationsthebakerycouldhaveused.Youguessedit.
Aconsummatemindreader,Joshualeansforwardandtakesastrawberry.Hescrapesawaytheicingandlooksatthelittleblobofivoryonhisthumb.Whatwillhedo?Suckit?Wipehisthumbwithamonogrammedhandkerchief?Hemustsensemyanticipationbecausehiseyescuttome.MyfaceheatsandIlookaway.
IquicklyaskMargeryaboutherson’sprogresslearningthetrumpet(slow),andDean’skneesurgery(soon).They’reflatteredthatIremember,andreplywithsmiles.Iguessit’struethatI’malwaysobserving,listening,andcollectingtrivia.Butnotforanynefariouspurpose.It’smainlybecauseI’malonelyloser.
IcatchupwithKeithregardinghisgranddaughter(growing)andEllen’skitchenrenovation(nightmarish).Allthewhile,thefollowingplaysinthebackofmyheadinaloop.Eatyourheartout,JoshuaTempleman.I’mlovely.Everyonelikesme.I’mpartofthisteam.You’reallalone.
DannyFletcherfromthecoverdesignteamsignalstogetmyattentionfromacrosstheboardroomtable.“Iwatchedthedocumentaryyourecommended.”
Iwrackmybrainsandcomeupblank.“Oh,um?Which?”
“Itwasacoupleofall-staffsago.Weweretalkingaboutadocumentaryyou’dwatchedaboutdaVinciontheHistoryChannel.Idownloadedit.”
Imakealotofsmalltalkinmyrole.Itneveroccurredtomeanyonewaslistening.There’sanintricatesketchinthemarginofhisnotepadandIsneakilytrytolookatit.
“Didyouenjoyit?”
“Oh,yeah.Hewasprettymuchtheultimatehumanbeing,wasn’the?”
“Noargumentthere.I’msuchafailure—Ihaven’tinventedanything.”
Dannylaughs,brightandloud.Ilookfromhisnotepadtohisface.ThisisprobablythefirsttimeI’velookedathimproperly.IgetalittlekickofsurpriseinmystomachwhenIflipofftheautopilotswitch.Oh.He’scute.
“Anyway,didyouknowI’mfinishingupheresoon?”
“No,why?”Thelittleflirt-bubbleinsidemystomachbursts.Gameover.
“AbuddyandIaredevelopinganewself-publishingplatform.Mylastdayisinacoupleofweeks.Thisismylastall-staff.”
“Wellthat’sashame.Notforme.ForBandG.”Myclarificationisassubtleasalove-struckschoolgirl.
Trustmetonotnoticeacuteguyinmymidst.He’sbeensittingrightoppositeme,forheaven’ssake.Nowhe’sleaving.Lesigh.It’stimeItookaproperlookatDannyFletcher.Attractive,lean,andinshape,withsoftblondcurlscroppedclosetohishead.He’snottall,whichsuitsmefine.He’saBexley,butnotofthetypicalvariety.Hisshirt,whilecrisplikeabirthdaycard,isrolledatthecuffs.Histieissubtlypatternedwithtinyscissorsandclipboards.
“Nicetie.”
Helooksdownandgrins.“IdoaLOTofcuttingandpasting.”
Ilooksidewaysatthedesignteam,mainlyBexleys,whoalldresslikefuneraldirectors.IunderstandhisdecisiontoleaveB&G,themostboringdesignteamonthisplanet.
Next,IlookatDanny’slefthand.Everyfingerisbare,andhedrumsthemlightlyagainstthetable.
“Well,ifyoueverwanttocollaborateonaninvention,I’mavailable.”Hissmileismischievous.
“You’refreelancingasaninventoraswellasreinventingself-publishing?”
“Exactly.”Heclearlyappreciatesmycleverwordplay.
I’veneverhadanyoneflirtwithmeatwork.IsneakalookatJoshua.He’stalkingtoMr.Bexley.
“It’llbehardtoinventsomethingtheJapanesehaven’tthoughtof.”
Heconsidersforamoment.“Likethoselittlemopsbabiescanwearontheirhandsandfeet?”
“Yes.Haveyouseenthosepillowsshapedlikeahusband’sshoulderforlonelywomentosleepon?”
Hisjawisangularandshadowedwithsilverystubble,andhehasoneofthoseslightlycruelmouths,untilhesmiles.Whichhedoesnow,lookingrightintomyeyes.
“Surelyyoudon’tneedoneofthose,doyou?”Hedropshistone,belowthechatterofeveryoneelse.Hiseyesaresparkling,daringme.
“Maybe.”Imakearuefulface.
“I’msureyoucouldfindahumanvolunteer.”
Itrytogetusbackontrack.Unfortunately,itcomesoutsoundinglikeI’mpropositioninghim.“Maybeitwouldbefuntoinventsomething.”
HeleneistappingherpapersintoorderandreluctantlyIturninmychair.Joshuaisglaringatmewithangryeyebrows.Iusemybrainwavestotransmitaninsulttohim,whichhereceivesandpullshimselfupstraight.
“Onemorethingbeforewedepart,”Mr.Bexleysays.Helenetriestonotscowl.Shehateswhenheactslikehe’ssolelychairingmeetings.
“Wehaveanannouncementaboutarestructureintheexecutiveteam,”Helenecontinuesseamlessly,andMr.Bexley’slipstighteninannoyancebeforehecutsoverher.
“Athirdexecutivepositionisbeingestablished—chiefoperatingofficer.”
JoshuaandIbothdoelectric-shockjoltsinourseats.
“ItwillbeapositionbelowHeleneandmyself.Wewanttoformalizethepositionthatoverseesoperations,leavingtheCEOsfreetofocusonmorestrategicthings.”
Hecastsathin-lippedsmileatJoshua,whonodsintentlybackathim.Helenecatchesmyeyeandraiseshereyebrowsmeaningfully.Someonenudgesme.
“Itwillbeadvertisedtomorrow—detailsontherecruitmentportalandtheInternet.”HesaysitliketheInternetisanewfangledcontraption.
“It’sopentobothinternalandexternalapplicants.”Helenestacksherpapersandrises.
FatLittleDickstandstogo,andselectsanothersliceofcake.Helenefollowshim,shakingherhead.Theroomonceagainexplodesintonoiseandthecakeboxisdraggedacrossthetable.Joshuastandsbythedoor,andwhenIstubbornlyremainseated,heslinksoff.
“Lookslikeyou’vegotsomeworktodo,”Dannysaystome.Inodandgulpandwavegood-byetotheroomingeneral,toooverwhelmedtomakeagracefulexit.IbreakintoarunwhenIleavetheroom,takingthestairstwoatatime.IseeMr.Bexley’sdoorcloseasIhotfootitintoHelene’sandskidtoahalt,swingingthedoorshutbehindmeandbangingitclosedwithmybackside.
“What’sthereportingline?”
“You’dbeJosh’sboss,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking.”
Asensationofpureelationfloodsme.Joshua’sBOSS.He’dhavetodoeverythingIsay,includingtreatingmewithsomerespect.Iamatriskofwettingmypantsrightaboutnow.
“It’sgotdisasterwrittenalloverit,butIwantyoutohavethejob.”
“Disaster?”Isinkintoachair.“Why?”
“YouandJoshdonotworkwelltogether.Chalkandcheese.Addinginapowerdynamiclikethat…”Sheclucksdoubtfully.
“ButIcandothejob.”
“Ofcourse,darling.Iwantyoutohavethejob.”
Myexcitementgrowsaswetalkabouttherole.Anotherrestructureislooming,butI’dhaveadirecthandinitthistime.Icouldsavejobsinsteadofcuttingthem.Theresponsibilityisgreaterandtheraiseissubstantial.Icouldgohomemoreoften.Icouldgetanewcar.
“Youshouldknow,BexleywantsJoshforthejob.Wehadabigfightoverit.”
“IfJoshuabecomesmybossIwillhavetoresign.”Itcomesoutofmymouthinstantly.It’slikewhatsomeoneinamoviewouldsay.
“Allthemorereasonforustogetyouthejob,darling.IfIhadmywaywewouldhavejustannouncedyourpromotion.”
Inibblemythumb.“Buthowisitgoingtobeafairprocess?JoshuaandMr.Bexleyaregoingtosabotageme.”
“Ithoughtofthat.Anindependentpanelofrecruitmentconsultantsaredoingtheinterviews.You’llbecompetingonanevenplayingfield.There’llbeapplicantsfromoutsideBandGtoo.Probablyaprettystrongfield.Iwantyoutobeprepared.”
“Iwillbe.”Ihope.
“Andpartoftheinterviewisapresentation.You’llneedtogetstartedonit.TheywanttohearyourthoughtsonthefuturedirectionofBandG.”
I’mitchingtogetbacktomydesk.IneedtoupdatemyCV.“DoyoumindifIworkonmyapplicationduringmylunchbreaks?”
“Darling,Idon’tcareifyouworkonitalldayuntilit’sdue.LucyHutton,chiefoperatingofficer,BexleyandGamin.Itsoundsgood,doesn’tit.”
Agrinspreadsacrossmyface.
“It’syours.Ifeelit.”Helenemakesamotionofzippingherlip.“Nowgo.Getit.”
IsitatmydeskandunlockmycomputertoopenmywoefullyoutdatedCV.I’mlitupinsidebythisnewopportunity.Everythingabouttodayhaschanged.Well,almosteverything.
InoticeashapestandingovermeafterI’vebeeneditingforseveralminutes.Ibreathein.Spicycedar.Hisbeltbucklewinksatme.Idonotbreakmykeystrokes.
“Thejobismine,Shortcake,”Joshua’svoicesays.
TostopmyselffromstandingupandpunchinghiminthegutI’mcountingone,two,three,four…
“Funny,that’swhatHelenejusttoldme.”Iwatchhisbacksidewalkawayintheglossedsurfaceofmydesk,andvowthatJoshuaTemplemanisgoingtolosethemostimportantgamewe’veeverplayed.Chapter4
Off-whitestripestoday,andI’vegotabigredcrossinmyplannerforFriday.Iwouldbetahundreddollarsthere’sanidenticalredcrossinJoshua’s.Ourjobapplicationsaredue.
I’mhalf-insanefromrereadingmyapplication.I’vebecomesoobsessedwithmypresentationI’vestarteddreamingaboutit.Ineedabreak.IlockmyscreenandwatchwithinterestasJoshuadoesthesame.Wearealignedlikechessplayers.Wefoldourhands.Istillhaven’tseenhispencilinmotion.
“HowYouDoing,LittleLucy?”Hisbrighttoneandmildexpressionindicateswe’replayingagamewealmostneverplay.It’sagamecalledHowYouDoing?anditbasicallystartsofflikewedon’thateeachother.Weactlikenormalcolleagueswhodon’twanttoswirltheirhandsineachother’sblood.It’sdisturbing.
“Great,thanks,BigJosh.HowYouDoing?”
“Super.Gonnagogetcoffee.CanIgetyousometea?”Hehashisheavyblackmuginhishand.Ihatehismug.
Ilookdown;myhandisalreadyholdingmyredpolka-dotmug.He’dspitinanythinghemademe.DoeshethinkI’mcrazy?“IthinkI’lljoinyou.”
Wemarchpurposefullytowardthekitchenwithidenticalfootfalls,left,right,left,right,likeprosecutorswalkingtowardthecameraintheopeningcreditsofLaw&Order.Itrequiresmetoalmostdoublemystride.Colleaguesbreakoffconversationsandlookatuswithspeculativeexpressions.JoshuaandIlookateachotherandbareourteeth.Timetoactcivil.Likeexecutives.
“Ah-ha-ha,”wesaytoeachothergeniallyatsomepretendjoke.“Ah-ha-ha.”
Wesweeparoundacorner.Annabelleturnsfromthephotocopierandalmostdropsherpapers.“What’shappening?”
JoshuaandInodatherandcontinuestriding,unifiedinourendlessgameofone-upmanship.Myshortstripeddressflapsfromtheg-force.
“MommyandDaddyloveyouverymuch,kids,”JoshuasaysquietlysoonlyIcanhearhim.Tothecasualonlookerheispolitelychatting.Afewmeerkatheadshavepoppedupovercubiclewalls.Itseemswe’rethestuffoflegend.“Sometimeswegetexcitedandargue.Butdon’tbescared.Evenwhenwe’rearguing,it’snotyourfault.”
“It’sjustgrown-upstuff,”Isoftlyexplaintotheapprehensivefaceswepass.“SometimesDaddysleepsonthecouch,butit’sokay.Westillloveyou.”
InthekitchenIamhangingmyteabagintomymugwhentheurgetolaughalmostknocksmeoverlikeanoceanwave.Iholdontotheedgeofthecounterandsoundlesslyshake.
Joshuaignoresmeashemovesaroundpreparinghiscoffee.Ilookuptoseehishandsopeningthecupboardmilesabovemyhead,andIfeeltheheatofhisbodyinchesfrommyback.It’slikesunshine.I’dforgottenthatotherpeoplearewarm.Icansmellhisskin.Theurgetolaughfades.
Ihaven’thadanyhumancontactsincemyhairdresser,Angela,gavemeaheadmassage,probablyeightweeksago.NowI’mimaginingleaningbackagainsthimandlettingmymusclesgoslack.WhatwouldhedoifIfainted?He’dprobablyletmecrumbleontothefloor,thennudgemewithhistoe.
Anotherfreeze-framesnapsthroughmybrain.Joshuagrabbingme,stoppingmefalling.Hishandsonmywaist,fingertipsdiggingin.
“You’resofunny,”IsaywhenIrealizeI’vebeensilentforabit.“Soveryfunny.”Iswallowaudibly.
“Soareyou.”Hegoestothefridge.
JeanettefromHRmaterializesinthedoorwaylikeadumpyfrazzledghost.She’sanicelady,butshe’salsosickofourshit.
“What’sgoingon?”Shehasherhandsonherhips.Atleast,Ithinkshedoes.She’sshapedlikeatriangleunderneaththejinglingTibetanponchoshemusthavebarteredforonherlastspiritquest.She’saGamin,natch.
“Jeanette!Makingcoffee.CanItemptyou?”Joshuawagshismugatherandshewavesherhandirritably.Shehateshimdeeply.She’smykindoflady.
“Igotanemergencycall.I’mheretoreferee.”
“Noneed,Jeanette.Everything’sfine.”Idunkmyteabaggently,watchingthewaterturnbrickred.Joshuadumpsaspoonfulofsugarintomymug.
“Notquitesweetenough,areyou?”
ImakeafakelaughatthecabinetinfrontofmeandwonderhowheknowshowItakemytea.Howdoesheknowanythingaboutme?Jeanetteisfisheyedwithsuspicion.
Joshualooksathermildly.“We’remakinghotbeverages.What’snewinthehumanresourcefield?”
“Thecompany’stwoworstserialcomplainantsshouldnotbeleftalonetogether.”Acornerofherponchogesturestothekitchen.
“Well,that’sabind.Wesitinaroomtogetheralone,allday.Ispendbetweenfortyandfiftyhoursaweekwiththisfinewoman.Allalone.”Hesoundspleasant,butthesubtexttohisdialoguewasFuckOff.
“I’vemadeseveralrecommendationstoyourbossesaboutthat,”Jeanettesaysdarkly.Hersubtextreadsthesame
“Well,I’llbeLucinda’sbosssoon,”Joshuarepliesandmyeyessnaptohis.“I’mprofessionalandcanmanageanybody.”
ThewayheenunciatesanybodyimplieshethinksIammentallydeficient.
“Actually,I’llbeyourbosssoon.”Iamsyrupysweet.Jeanette’slittlehandsappearfromunderherponcho.Sherubshereyes,makingamessofhermascara.
“Youtwoaremyfull-timejob,”shesayssoftly,despairingly.Ifeelastabofguilt.Mybehaviorisunbecomingofasoon-to-beseniorexecutive.Timetorepairthisrelationship.
“Iknowinthepast,communicationbetweenmyselfandMr.Templemanhasbeenalittle…strained.I’mkeentoaddressthis,andstrengthenteambuildingatBandG.”Iusemybestsmoothprofessionalvoice,watchingherfacepinchsuspiciously.Joshuaflickshiseyestowardmelikelaserbeams.
“I’vedraftedarecommendationforHeleneoutliningateam-buildingafternoonforcorporate,design,executive,andfinance.”WecallitCDEFforshort,ortheAlphabetBranch.Thisismylatestbrainstorm.Howexcellentwouldthissoundintheinterview?Veryexcellent.
“Iwillcosigntoshowmycommitment,”Joshuasays,thegoddamnhijacker.Mywristtrembleswiththeneedtoflickhotteainhisface.
“Don’tyouworryaboutathing,”ItellJeanetteaswestandinfrontofher.“It’llallbefine.”Herponchojinglessadlyaswestrideoff.
“WhenI’myourboss,I’mgoingtoworkyousofuckinghard,”Joshua’svoiceisdirtyandrough.
Iamstrugglingtokeepupwithhimnow,butImakemyself.Someofmyteaspattersontothecarpet.“WhenI’myourboss,you’regoingtodoeverythingIsaywithabigsmileonyourface.”InodpolitelyatMarnieandAlanaswepassthem.
Weroundthecornerlikeracehorses.
“WhenI’myourboss,anymorethanthreemistakesinyourfinancialcalculationswillresultinanofficialwarning.”
Imutterundermybreathbuthestillhearsme.“WhenI’myourboss,I’mgoingtobeconvictedofmurder.”
“WhenI’myourboss,I’mimplementingacorporatesupportuniformpolicy.Nomoreofyourweirdlittleretrocostumes.I’vealreadygotitcircledintheCorporateWearcatalog.Agrayshiftdress.”Hepausesforeffect.“Polyester.It’ssupposedtobekneelength,soitshouldreachyourankles.”
IaminsanelysensitiveaboutmyheightandIabsolutelyhatesyntheticfibers.Iopenmymouthandacuteanimalgrowlcomesout.Ihustleaheadandbumptheglassdooropentotheexecutivesuiteswithmyhip.
“Isthatwhatitwouldtakeforyoutostoplustingafterme?”Isnapandhelooksupattheceilingandletsoutahugesigh.
“Yougotme,Shortcake.”
“Oh,I’vegotyouallright.”We’rebothbreathingalittleharderthanthesituationwarrants.Weeachsetdownourmugsandfaceoff.
“Iwillneverworkforyou.There’llbenopolyesterdress.I’llresignifyougetit.Itshouldgowithoutsaying.”
Helooksgenuinelysurprisedforafractionofasecond.“Oh,really.”
“Likeyouwouldn’tquitifIgotit.”
“I’mnotsure.”He’sgimlet-eyedwithspeculation.
“Joshua,youneedtoresignifIgetit.”
“Idon’tquitthings.”Hisvoicegetsagalvanizededgetoitandheputsahandonhiship.
“Idon’tquitthingseither.Butifyou’resocertainyou’regoingtogetit,whywouldyouhaveaproblemwithpromisingtoresign?”Iwatchhimmullthisover.
Iwanthimtobemysubordinate,skittishwithnervesasIreviewapieceofhiswork,whichI’lltearup.Iwanthimonhishandsandkneesatmyfeet,gatheringupthetornshreds,burblingapologiesforhisownincompetence.CryinginJeanette’soffice,beratinghimselfforhisowninadequacies.Iwanttomakehimsonervoushe’stiedinknots.
“Okay.Iagree.Ifyougetthepromotion,Ipromisetoresign.You’vegotyourhornyeyesonagain,”Joshuaadds,turningawayandsittingdown.Heunlockshisdrawerandtakesouthisplanner,busilysortingthroughthepages.
“Mentallystranglingmeagain?”
Heismakingamarkwithhispencil,astraightsingletally,whenhenoticesme.
“Whatareyousmirkingabout?”
Ithinkhemakesamarkinhisplannerwhenweargue.
“I’DBETTERGETtobed.”I’mtalkingtomyparents.I’malsogentlycleaningthetwo-dollareBaySmurfIgotafewweeksbackwithababy’stoothbrush.Law&Orderisoninthebackgroundandtheyarecurrentlypursuingafalselead.I’vegotawhiteclaymaskonmyfaceandmytoenailpolishisdrying.
“Allright,Smurfette,”myparentschimelikeatwo-headedmonster.Theyhaven’tworkedouttheydon’thavetositcheektocheektofitontothevideo-chatscreen.Ormaybetheyhave,buttheylikeittoomuch.
Dadisdangerouslysuntanned,barthewhiteoutlineofhissunglasses.It’sasortofreverse-raccooneffect.He’sabiglaugherandabigtalker,soIgetalotofglimpsesofthetoothhechippedwhileeatingarackofribs.He’swearingasweatshirthe’shadsinceIwasakidanditmakesmeridiculouslyhomesick.
Mymomneverlooksproperlyatthecamera.Shegetsdistractedbythetinypreviewwindowwhereshecanseeherownfaceonscreen.Ithinksheanalyzesherwrinkles.Itgivesourchatsadisconnectedqualityandmakesmemisshermore.
Herfairskincan’tcopewiththeoutdoors,andwhereDadhastanned,shehasfreckled.Wehavethesamecoloring,soIknowwhatwillhappenifIgiveupthesunscreen.Theydappleeverysquareinchofherfaceandarms.Sheevenhasfrecklesonhereyelids.Withherbrightblueeyesandblackhair,tiedupinitsusualknotontopofherhead,shealwaysgetsasecondglancewherevershegoes.Dadisenslavedbyherbeauty.Iknowforafact,becausehewastellingherroughlytenminutesago.
“Now,don’tworryaboutathing.You’rethemostdeterminedpersonthere,I’msureofit.Youwantedtoworkforapublisher,andyoudidit.Andyouknowwhat?Whateverhappens,you’realwaysthebossofSkyDiamondStrawberries.”Dad’sbeenexplainingatgreatlengthallthereasonswhyIshouldgetthepromotion.
“Aw,Dad.”IlaughtocovertheleftoverbubbleofemotionI’vebeenfeelingsincetheblogmeltdowninfrontofJoshua.“MyfirstactasCEOistoorderyoubothtobedforanearlynight.GoodluckwithLucyForty-two,Mom.”
IcaughtupwiththelasttenblogentrieswhileIatedinner.Mymomhasaclear,factualstyleofwriting.Ithinkshewouldhavebeenworkingsomewheremajoronedayifshehadn’tquit.AnnieHutton,investigativejournalist.Instead,shespendsherdaysdigginguprottingplants,packingcratesfordelivery,andFrankensteininghybridvarietiesofstrawberries.Tome,thefactshegaveupherdreamjobforamanisatragedy,nomatterhowwonderfulmydadis,orthefactthatI’msittingherenowasaresult.
“Ihopetheydon’tturnoutlikeLucyForty-one.I’veneverseenanythinglikeit.Theylookednormalfromtheoutside,butcompletelyhollowontheinside.Weren’tthey,Nigel?”
“Theywerelikefruitballoons.”
“Theinterviewwillgofine,honey.They’llknowwithinfiveminutesthatyouliveandbreathethepublishingindustry.Istillrememberyoucominghomeafterthatfieldtrip.Itwaslikeyou’dfalleninlove.”Mom’seyesarefullofmemories.“Iknowhowyoufelt.IrememberwhenIfirststeppedintotheprintingroomofanewspaper.Thesmellofthatinkwaslikeadrug.”
“AreyoustillhavingtroublewithJeremyatwork?”DadknowsJoshua’sactualnamebynow.Hejustchoosestonotuseit.
“Joshua.Andyes.Hestillhatesme.”Itakeafistofcashewsandbegineatingthemalittleaggressively.
Dadisflatteringlymystified.“Impossible.Whocould?”
“Whoevencould,”Momechoes,reachinguptofingertheskinbyhereye.“She’slittleandcute.Noonehateslittlecutepeople.”DadseamlesslyagreeswithherandtheybegintalkingasthoughI’mnotevenhere.
“She’sthesweetestgirlintheworld.Julian’sclearlygotsomesortofinferioritycomplex.Orhe’soneofthosesexists.Hewantstobringeveryoneelsedowntomakehimselffeelbetter.Napoleoncomplex.Hitlercomplex.Something’swrongwithhim.”He’stickingthemoffonhisfingers.
“Alloftheabove.Dad,putthePost-itnoteoverthescreensoshecan’tseeherself.She’snotlookingatmeproperly.”
“Maybehe’shopelesslyinlovewithher,”Momoffersoptimisticallyasshelooksproperlyintothecameraforthefirsttime.Mystomachdropsthroughthefloor.Icatchaglimpseofmyownface;Iamaclaystatuetteoffrozenhorrorandsurprise.
Dadscoffsallovertheplace.“Ridiculouswayofshowingit,don’tyouthink?He’smadethatplaceamiseryforher.Itellyou,ifImethim,he’dhavetodosomegroveling.Youhearthat,Luce?Tellhimtoshapeuporyourdad’sgonnagetonaplaneandhaveafewwordswithhim.”
Theimageofthemface-to-faceisweird.“Iwouldn’tbother,Dad.”
It’sthesegueMomneeds.“Speakingofplanes,wecouldputsomemoneyinyouraccountsoyoucouldbookaflighttovisitus?Wehaven’tseenyouinsolong.It’sbeenalongtime,Lucy.”
“It’snotthemoney,it’sgettingthetime,”Itrytosay,buttheybothbegintalkingovermeatonce,inanunintelligiblecombinationofbegging,pleading,andarguing.
“I’llcomeassoonasIcangetsometime,butitmightnotbeforawhile.IfIgetthepromotionI’llbeprettybusy.IfIdon’t…”Istudythekeyboard.
“Yes?”Dadissharp.
“I’llhavetogetanotherjob,”Iadmit.Ilookup.
“Ofcourseyouwould.YouwouldneverworkforthatjackassJustin.“Itwouldbegoodtohaveherhomethough,”DadtellsMom.“Thebooksarenotaddingup.Weneedsomeextrabrainpower.”
IcanseeMomisstillfrettingaboutmyjobsituation.She’sapennypincher,andshe’sbeenlivingonafarmlongenoughthatinherimaginationthecityisaheinouslyexpensive,bustlingmetropolis.She’snotfaroff.Imakeagoodwage,butafterthebanksucksmyrentpaymentout,I’mstretchedprettytight.Thethoughtofgettingaroommatefillsmewithdread.
“Howwillshe…”
Dadshushesherandwaveshishandstodispelthemerethoughtoffailurelikeapuffofsmoke.“It’llbefine.It’llbeJohnnieunemployedandsleepingunderabridge,nother.”
“Thatwillneverhappentoher,”Mombegins,alarmed.
“Haveyoumadeupwiththatfriendyouusedtoworkwith?Valerie,wasn’tit?”
“Don’taskher,itupsetsher,”Momscolds.Dadraiseshishandsinsurrenderandlooksattheceiling.
It’strue;itdoesupsetme,butIkeepmytoneeven.“Afterthemerger,Imanagedtomeetherforacoffee,toexplainmyself,butshelostherjobandIdidn’t.Shecouldn’tforgiveme.Shesaidatruefriendwouldhavegivenherwarning.”
“Butyoudidn’tknow,”Dadbegins.Inod.It’strue.ButwhatI’vebeengrapplingwitheversinceis,shouldIhavesomehowtriedtofindoutforher?
“Hercircleoffriendswerestartingtobecomemyfriends…andnowhereIam.Squareoneagain.”Asad,lonelyloser.
“Thereareotherpeopleatworktobefriendswith,surely,”Momsays.
“Noonewantstobefriendswithme.TheythinkI’lltelltheirsecretstotheboss.Canwechangethesubject?Italkedtoaguythisweek.”Iregretitimmediately.
“Oooh,”theyintonetogether.“Oooh.”Thereisanexchangedglance.
“Ishenice?”
It’salwaystheirfirstquestion.“Oh,yes.Verynice.”
“What’shisname?”
“Danny.He’sinthedesignsectionatwork.Wehaven’tgoneoutoranything,but…”
“Howwonderful!”MomsaysatthesametimethatDadexclaims,“Abouttime!”
Heputshisthumboverthemicrophoneandtheybegintobuzztoeachother,ahornetswarmofspeculation.
“LikeIsaid,wehaven’tgoneonadate.Idon’tknowexactlyifhewantsto.”IthinkofDanny,thesidewayslookhegaveme,mouthcurling.Hedoes
Dadspeakssoloudlythemicrophonegetsfuzzysometimes.“Youshouldaskhim.It’sgottobeatsittingintheofficefortenhoursadayslingingmudatJames.Getoutandlivealittle.Getyourredpartydresson.IwanttohearyouhavebythetimeweSkypenext.”
“Areyouallowedtodatecolleagues?”Momasks,andDadfrownsather.Negativeconceptsandworst-casescenariosdonotinteresthim.However,shedoesraiseagoodpoint.
“Itisn’tallowed,buthe’sleaving.He’sgoingtofreelance.”
“Aniceboy,”MomsaystoDad.“I’vegotagoodfeeling.”
“Ireallyshouldgotobed,”Iremindthem.Iyawnandmyclayfacemaskcracks.
“Night,night,sweetie,”theychime.IcanhearMomsaysadly“Whywon’tshecomehome—”asDadclickstheEndbutton.
Thetruth?Theybothtreatmesomuchlikeavisitingcelebrity,acompleteanduttersuccess.Theirbraggingtotheirfriendsisfranklyridiculous.WhenIgohome,Ifeellikeafraud.
AsIrinsemyface,ItrytoignoremyBadDaughterGuiltbydecidingontheitemsIwouldtakeifIhavetoliveunderabridge.Sleepingbag,knife,umbrella,ayogamat.IcansleeponitANDdoyogatokeepmyselfnimble.IcouldgetallofmyrareSmurfsintoafishingtacklebox.
IhavethecopyofJoshua’sdeskplannerontheendofmybed.TimetodoalittleNancyDrewing.It’sdisturbingthatapieceofJoshuaTemplemanhasinvadedmybedroom.Mybrainstage-whispersImagine!Iguillotinethethought.
Istudythecopy.Atally—Ithinkthosearethearguments.Imakeanoteofthisonthemargin.Sixargumentsonthisparticularday.Soundsaboutright.ThelittleslashesIhavenoideaabout.ButtheX’s?IthinkofValentine’scardsandkisses.Noneofthosearegoingoninouroffice.ThishasgottobehisHRrecord.
Ifoldupmylaptopandputitaway,thenbrushmyteethandgetintobed.
Joshua’sjibeaboutmyworkclothes—my“weirdlittleretrocostumes”—haspromptedmetofindtheshortblackdressfromthebackofmywardrobetoweartomorrow.It’stheoppositeofagrayankle-lengthshiftdress.Itmakesmywaistlooklittleandmyasslookamazing.ThumbelinameetsJessicaRabbit.Hethinkshe’sseensmallclothes?Heain’tseennothing.
Littleruntslikemeusuallycomeacrossascuteratherthanpowerful,soI’mpullingoutallthestops.Thefishnettightsaresofinetheyfeellikesoftgrit.Myredheelsthatboostmeuptoatoweringfive-feet-fiveinches.
There’snotgoingtobeasinglementionofstrawberriestomorrow.JoshuaTemplemanisgoingtosprayhiscoffeeouthisnosewhenIwalkin.Idon’tknowwhyIwanthimto—butIdo.
Whataconfusingthoughttofallasleepwith.Chapter5
Fallingasleepwithhisnameinmyheadisprobablythereasonformydream.It’sthemiddleofthenight,I’mlyingonmystomachandIpressmycheekintomypillow.He’sbracedoverme,pressedagainstmyback,warmassunlight.Hisvoiceisahotwhisper,rightinmyearashetwistshishipstogrindhimselfagainstmybutt.
I’mgoingtoworkyousofuckinghard.So.Fucking.Hard.
Igetafullimpressionofhisheavinessandsize.Itrytopushbackagainsthimagaintofeelitagain,buthemuttersmynamelikeareprimandandcrawlsuphigher,hiskneesstraddlingmyhips.Hisfingertipssmoothalongthesidesofmybreasts.Hisexhalesteamsagainstmyneck.Ican’tgetadecentlungfulofair.He’stooheavyandI’mtooturnedon.Sensitive,forgottenpartsofmeblazetolife.Iscratchmyfingertipsagainstthesheetsuntiltheyburnwithfriction.
TherealizationthatI’mhavingadirtydreamaboutJoshuaTemplemansuddenlyjarsmeandIteeterontheedgeofwaking,butIkeepmyeyesshut.Ineedtoseewheremymindtakesthis.Afterafewminutes,Isinkbackin.
I’lldoanythingyouwant,Lucinda.Butyou’llhavetoask.
Histoneisthatlazyonehesometimesuseswhenhelooksatmewiththatcertainexpression.It’slikehe’sseenmethroughaholeinawallandknowswhatIlooklike,downtomyskin.
Itwistmyhead,andseehiswristbracedbymyhead,thesleeveofabusinessshirtloosewithnocufflink.Icanseeaninchofwrist;hair,veins,andtendons.Thehandbunchesintoafistandthemerethoughtofhimbeingovercomemakesmeclenchinside.
Ican’tseehisface.Eventhoughthismaydestroyeverything,Irolloverontomyback,theblanketsandsheetsbeginningtotwistmeup.I’mtangledupinhisarmsandlegs.IrealizeI’mturnedon,andtherealizationthatIamprobablywethitsmeasIlookintohisbrilliantnavyeyes.Iletoutatheatricalgaspofhorror.Ahuskylaughishisreply.
I’mafraidso.Hedoesn’tlooksorry.
There’ssomuchdeliciousweight,pressingmedown.Hipsandhands.ImoveagainstDream-Joshuasinuously,feelinghimbitebackagroan,andIrealizesomethingshocking.
Youwantmedesperately.
Thewordsechooutofmymouth,trueandundeniable.AkissonthepulseinmyjawconfirmswhatIalreadyknow.It’sstrongerthanattraction;darkerthanwanting.It’sarestlessnessbetweenusthathasneverhadatrueoutlet,untilnow.Thecreamsheetsareblazinghotagainstmyskin.
You’retiedupinfuckingknotsoverme.Ifeelhandsslidingalongmybody,weighingcurves,buttonspoppingandseamsunfurling.I’mbeingpeeled,inspected.Teethbite,andI’mbeingeaten.Ihaveneverhadanyoneburnformelikethis.I’mshamefullyturnedonandeventhoughI’monmyback,thelookinhiseyesconfirmsit’smewhoiswinningthisgame.Itrytotughimdowntokissme,butheevadesandteases.
You’veknownallalong,hetellsmeandhisblazingsmiletipsmeovertheedge.Itrembleawake.Ijoltmyhandawayfromtheseamofmydamppajamas,myfaceburningredinthedarkness.Ican’tdecidewhattodo.Finishthejob,ortakeacoldshower?Intheend,allIdoisliethere.
ThehangingshapeofmyblackdressatthefootofmybedismenacingandIstareatituntilmybreathingslows.Ilookatmydigitalclock.Ihavefourhourstorepressthismemory.
IT’SSEVENTHIRTYA.M.onaCreamShirtDay.Thereflectionintheelevatordoorsconfirmsmytrenchcoatislongerthanmytinydress,soIlooklikeahigh-classcallgirl,enroutetoahotelpenthousewithonlylingerieonunderneath.
Ihadtogetthebustoday.Icouldbarelyclimbfromthecurbontothefirststepwithoutshowingmyunderwear,andasthedoorsclosedbehindme,Iknewthisdresswasacatastrophiclapseinjudgment.TheenthusiasticsetofhonksfromapassingtruckasIteeteredupthesidewalktoB&Gconfirmedit.IfTargetwereopenthisearly,I’dduckinandbuysomepants.
Icangetthroughthis.Iwillneedtoremainseatedfortheentireday.TheelevatordoorsopenandofcourseJoshuaisathisdesk.Whydoeshealwayshavetobeatworksoflippin’early?Doeshegohome?Doeshesleepinamorguedrawerintheboilerroom?Isupposehecouldaskthesameofme.
IwashopingI’dhaveaminuteortwoalonehereintheofficetogetsettledinforalongdayofremainingseated.Butthereheis.Ihidemyselfbehindthecoatrackandpretendtoriflethroughmyhandbagtobuymyselfsometime.
IfIfocusonthedressasmymainissue,Icanignoretheflashbackstolastnight’sdream.Heliftshiseyesfromhisplanner,pencilinhand.HestaresatmeuntilIbegintountiethebeltonmytrenchcoat,butIcan’tcontinue.Theblueofhiseyesisevenmorevividthaninmydream.He’slookingatmelikehe’sbusyreadingmymind.
“It’scoldinhere,no?”
Mouthpursingintoakissofirritation,hewaveshishandincirclesasiftosayGetonwithit.Fortifyingmyselfwithadeepbreath,Itakeoffthecoatandhangitonmyspecialpaddedhanger.IfeelthefrictionofthetinyfishnetdiamondsbetweenmythighsasIwalktowardourdesks.I’mprettymuchwearingaswimsuit.
Iwatchhiseyesdroptohisplanner,darklashesmakingahalf-moonshadowonhischeeks.Helooksyoung,untilhelooksupandhiseyesareaman’s,speculativeandhard.Myanklewobbles.
“Wowsers,”hedrawls,andIwatchhispencilmakesomekindofmark.“Gotahotdate,Shortcake?”
“Yes,”Ilieautomaticallyandheputsthepencilbehindhisear,cynical
“Dotell.”
Itrytoperchmybuttnonchalantlyontheedgeofmydesk.Theglassiscoldagainstthebacksofmythighs.It’sadreadfulmistakebutIcan’tstandbackupnow,I’lllooklikeanidiot.Webothstareatmylegs.
IlookdownatmybrightredheelsandIcanseefaintlyupmyowndress,thetilesarepolishedsobright.Iletmyhairfallacrossmyeye.IfIfocusonthisstupiddress,Icanforgethowmybrainwantshimtolickme,biteme,undressme.
“What’sup?”Foroncehisvoicesoundsnormal.“What’shappened?”
Ipickvaguelyatanirregulardiamondonmythigh.Thedreamissurelywrittenallovermyface.Mycheeksaregettingwarm.He’swearingthecreamshirt,softandsilkyasthesheetsinmydream.Mysubconsciousisadeviant.Itrytomakeeyecontactbutchickenoutandmanagetosaunteraroundtomychair.IwishIcouldsaunteroutofhere,allthewayhome.
“Hey.”Hesaysitmoresharply.“What’sup?Tellme.”
“Ihada…dream.”Isayitlikesomeonemightsay,Grandma’sdead.Isitdowninmychair,pressingmykneestogetheruntilthebonesgrind.
“Describethisdream.”HehasthepencilinhishandagainandIamlikeaterrierwatchingthemotionofaknifeandfork.WestartplayingWordTennis.Whoevercan’tthinkofareplyfirstloses.
“Yourfacehasgoneallred.Allthewaydownyourneck.”
“Quitlookingatme.”He’scorrect,ofcourse.Thismirror-ballofficeconfirmsit.
“Can’t.You’rerightinmylineofvision.”
“Well,try.”
“It’snotoftenIseesuchaninterestingchoiceofthigh-revealingattireintheworkplace.IntheHRmanualforappropriatebusinessattire—”
“Youcan’ttakeyoureyesoffmythighslongenoughtoconsultthemanual.”It’strue.Helooksatthefloorbutafterasecondtheredsniper-dotfromhiseyesrecommencesatmyankleboneandslidesup.
“Ihaveitmemorized.”
“Thenyou’llknowthatthighsarenotanappropriatetopicofconversation.IfIgetmypolyestersackdressIguessyou’llbekissingthemgood-bye.”
“Ilookforwardtoit.Gettingthepromotion,Imean.Notyourthighs—Nevermind.”
“Dreamon,pervert.”Itypeinmypassword.Thepreviousoneexpired.Nowit’sDIE-JOSH-DIE!“It’smyjob,notyours.”
“Sowho’syourdatewith?”
“Aguy.”I’llfindonebetweennowandtheendoftheworkday.I’llhireaguyifIhaveto.I’llcallamodelingagencyandaskforthecatchoftheday.He’llpickmeupinalimooutfrontofB&GandJoshuawillhaveeggonhisface.
“Whattimeisyourdate?”
“Seven,”Ihazard.
“Whatlocationisyourdate?”Heslowlymakesapencilmark.AnX?Aslash?Ican’ttell.
“You’reveryinterested;whyisthat?”
“Studieshaveshownthatifmanagersfeigninterestintheiremployees’personallivesitincreasestheirmoraleandmakesthemfeelvalued.I’mgettingthepracticein,beforeI’myourboss.”Hisprofessionalspieliscontradictedbytheweirdintensityinhiseyes.He’strulycaptivatedbyallofthis.
Igivehimmybestwitheringlook.“I’mmeetinghimfordrinksatthesportsbaronFederalAvenue.And:You’renevergoingtobemyboss.”
“Whatatotalcoincidence.I’mgoingtheretowatchthegametonight.Atseven.”
Mycleverfibwasatacticalerror.Istudyhimbutcan’ttellwherehisfaceendsandtheliebegins.
“MaybeI’llseeyouthere,”hecontinues.Heisdiabolical.
“Sure,maybe,”Imakemyvoiceboredsohecan’ttellI’msimultaneouslyfumingandpanicking.
“Sothisdream—amanwasinit,right?”
“Oh,yesindeed.”MyeyestravelacrossJoshuawithoutmypermission.IthinkIcanseetheshapeofhiscollarbone.“Itwashighlyerotic.”
“IshouldcomposeanemailtoJeanette,”hesaysfaintlyafterapauseandathroat-clearingrasp.Hedoesapoorimitationoftypingonhiskeyboardwithoutevenlookingatthescreen.
“DidIsayerotic?Imeantesoteric.Igetthosemixedup.”
Henarrowsoneeye.“Yourdreamwas…mysterious?”
Heregoesnothing.It’stimetotakemychanceswiththehumanliedetector.
“Itwasfullofsymbolsandhiddenmeaning.Iwaslostinagarden,andtherewasamanthere.SomeoneIspendalotoftimewith,butthistimeheseemedlikeastranger.”
“Continue,”Joshuasays.It’ssostrangetotalktohimwhenhisfaceisn’tamaskofboredom.
IcrossmylegsaselegantlyasIcanmanageandhiseyesflashundermydesk,thenbacktomyface.
“Iwaswearingnothingbutbedsheets,”Isayinaconfidingtone,thenpause.
“Thisisstrictlybetweenus,right?”
Henods,spellbound,andImentallyhigh-fivemyselfforwinningWordTennis.
Ineedtoprolongthismoment;it’snotoftenIgaintheupperhand.Iputonlipstickusingthewallasamirror.ThecoloriscalledFlamethrowerandit’smytrademark.Vicious,violent,poisonousred.Slit-wristsred.Thecolorofthedevil’sunderpants,accordingtoDad.IhavesomanytubesthatIalwayshaveatubewithinathree-footradius.Iamblackandwhite,butthankstoFlamethrower,IcanbeTechnicolor.Iliveinterrorofitbeingdiscontinuedbythemanufacturer,hencemyhoarding.
“SoI’mwalkingthroughthisgardenandthemanisrightbehindme.”TodayIamapathologicalliar.ThisiswhatJoshuaTemplemandoestome.
“He’srightbehindme.Like,upagainstme.Pressedupagainstmyass.”Istandandslapmyownbuttloudenoughtomakemypoint.Thewordsringsotrue,becausemostlyitistrue.Joshuanodsslowly,histhroatconstrictinginaswallowashiseyestraildownmydress.
“Iseemtorecognizehisvoice.”Ipauseforthirtyseconds,blottingmylips,holdingituptoadmirethelittleredheart-shapedmarkonthetissuebeforescrunchingitandputtingitinthewastebasketnearmytoes.Istartreapplying.
“Doyoualwayshavetodothattwice?”Joshuaisgrowingirritatedbythisstiltedstorytelling.Hetapshisfingertipsimpatientlyonthedesk.
Iwink.“Don’twantitkissingoff,nowdoI?”
“Whoisthisdatewith,exactly?What’shisname?”
“Aguy.You’rechangingthesubject,butthat’sokay.Sorryforboringyou.”Isitdownandclickthemouseuntilmycomputerwhirstolife.
“No,no,”Joshuasaysfaintly,likeheiscompletelyoutofair.“I’mnotbored.”
“Okay,soI’minthegarden,andit’s…allreflective.Likeit’scoveredinmirrors.”
Henods,elbowslidingforwardonthedesk,chininhand.Heisinchinghischairback.
“AndI…”Ipause,andglanceathim.“Nevermind.”
“What?”HebarksitsoloudIbounceaninchoutofmyseat.
“Isay,Whoareyou?Whydoyouwantmesobadly?Andwhenhetellsmehisname,Iwassoshocked…”
Joshuadanglesfromtheendofmyfishingline,aglossyfish,flippingandirrevocablyhooked.Icanfeeltheexpanseofairbetweenusvibratingwithtension.
“Comeoverhere,Ineedtowhisperit,”Imurmur,glancingleftandrightalthoughwebothknowthere’snobodyformiles.
JoshuashakeshisheadreflexivelyandIlookathislap.He’snottheonlyonewhocanstareunderneaththedesk
“Oh,”Isaytobeasmartass,buttomyastonishmentcolorbeginstoburnonJoshua’scheekbones.JoshuaTemplemanisturnedoninmypresence.Whydoesitmakemewanttoteasehimevenmore?
“I’llcomeoverandtellyou.”Ilockmycomputerscreen.
“I’mfine.”
“Ihavetoshareit.”Iwalkoverslowlyandputmyhandsontheedgeofhisdesk.HelooksatmyfishnetlegswithsuchatormentedexpressionIalmostfeelsorryforhim.
“Thisisunprofessional.”Heglancesattheceilingforinspirationbeforefindingit.“HR.”
“Isthatoursafeword?Okay.”Inthisfluorescentlightinghelooksirritatinglyhealthyandgold,hisskinevenandunblemished.Butthere’safaintsheenonhisface.
“You’realittlesweaty.”ItakethePost-itsfromhisdeskandplantabig,slowkissontop.Ipeelitoffandstickitinthemiddleofhiscomputerscreen.
“Ihopeyou’renotcomingdownwithsomething.”Iwalkawaytowardthekitchen.Ihearthewheelsonhischairmakeafaintwheeze.
LIVEALITTLE.
Danny’scubicleisstrippeddownandalittlechaotic.Packingboxesandstacksofpaperandfilesareeverywhere
“Hi!”
HejoltsandmakesajaggedgraysmudgeontheauthorphotographhewasPhotoshopping.Realsmooth,Lucy.
“Sorry.Ishouldwearabell.”
“No,it’sokay.Hi.”HehitsUndo,Save,andthenswivels,hiseyesslidingupanddownmeasfastaslightning,beforegettingsnaggedonthehemlineofmydressforanextrafewseconds.
“Hi.Iwaswonderingifyou’dcomeupwithanyinventionsforustogetstartedon?”
Ican’tbelievehowforwardI’mbeing,butI’minadesperatesituation.Myprideisatstakehere.IneedsomeonesittingnexttometonightonabarstoolorJoshuawilllaughhisassoff.
Asmilespreadsacrosshisface.“I’vegotahalf-finishedtimemachineIcouldgetyoutotakealookat.”
“They’reprettystraightforward.Icanhelpyouout.”
“Namethetimeandplace.”
“ThesportsbaronFederal?Tonight,seveno’clock?”
“Soundsgreat.Here,I’llgiveyoumynumber.”Ourfingersgrazewhenhegivesittome.My,my.Whataniceboy.Whereonearthhashebeenallthistime?
“Seeyoutonight.Bring,um,blueprints.”Iweavebackthroughthecubiclesandclimbthestairsbacktothetopfloor,mentallydustingmyhands.
Timetowork.Idropbackintomyseatandbeginworkontheproposaloutliningourdesiretorunateam-buildingactivity.Iputtwosignaturespacesatthebottom,signmyname,anddumpitintohisin-tray.Hetakesafulltwohourstoevenpickitup.Whenhedoes,hereadsitinaboutfourseconds.Heslasheshissignatureontoitandflicksitintohisout-traywithoutaglance.Hehasbeeninaweirdmoodthisafternoon.
IsteeplemyfingersandcommencetheStaringGame.Ittakesaboutthreeminutesbutheeventuallyheavesasighandlockshisscreen.Westaresodeepintoeachother’seyeswejoineachotherinadark3-Dcomputerrealm;nothingbutgreengridlinesandsilence.
“So.Nervous?”
“WhywouldIbe?”
“Yourbigdate,Shortcake.Youhaven’thadoneinawhile.AslongasI’veknownyou,Ithink.”Heindicatesquotationmarkswithhisfingersatbigdate.He’spositiveit’sallalie.
“I’mwaytoopicky.”
Hesteepleshisfingerssoharditlookspainful.“Really.”
“Suchacompletedroughtofeligiblemenhere.”
“That’snottrue.”
“You’researchingforyourowneligiblebachelor?”
“I—no—shutup.”
“You’reright.”Idropmyeyestohismouthforasplitsecond.“I’vefinallyfoundsomeoneinthisgodforsakenplace.Themanofmydreams.”Iraisemyeyebrowmeaningfully.
Hemakestheconnectiontoourearly-morningconversationseamlessly.“Soyourdreamwasdefinitelyaboutsomeoneyouworkwith.”
“Yes.He’sleavingB&Gverysoon,somaybeIneedtomakeamove.”
“You’resureaboutit.”
“Yes.”Ican’trememberthelasttimehehasblinkedhiseyes.Theyareblackandscary.
“You’vegotyourserialkillereyesonagain.”Istandandtakemyproposalfromhim.“I’llgetyouacopyforFatLittleDick.Don’tscrewthisupforme,Joshua.You’vegotnoconceptofhowtobuildateam.Leavethistotheexpert.”
WhenIreturnhe’salittlelessdarklooking,buthishairismessedup.Hetakesthedocument,whichIhavestampedCOPY
Helooksatthedocument,andIcanseetheexactmomenthehashisidea.It’sthesharppausethatafoxmakesasitmoochespasttheunlatchedgateofahenhouse.Helooksupatme,hiseyesglittering.Hebiteshisbottomlipandhesitates.
“Whateveryou’rethinking,don’t.”
Hetakesapenandwritessomethingacrossthebottom.Itrytosee,buthestandsandholdsitsohighacornertouchestheceiling.Ican’triskstandingontiptoesinthisdress.
“HowcouldIpossiblyresist?”Heroundshisdeskandtoucheshisthumbundermychinashebrushespast.
“Whathaveyoudone?”IsaytohisbackashewalksintoMr.Bexley’soffice.IscuttleintoHelene’s,rubbingmychin.
“Iagree,”shesays,layingthedocumentaside.“Thisisagoodidea.DidyouseehowtheGaminsandBexleyssatapartintheteammeeting?I’mtiredofit.Wehaven’tdoneanythingasateamsincethemerger-planningday.I’mimpressedthatyouandJoshuacametogether.”
Ihopemyweirdbraindoesn’tfileawayherlastfilthy-soundingsentence.
“Weareworkingoutourdifferences.”Ihavenotraceoflieinmyvoice.
“I’lltalktoBexleyatourfouro’clockbattleroyale.Whatareyourideas?”
“I’vefoundacorporateretreatthat’sonlyfifteenminutesoffthehighway.It’soneofthoseplaceswithwhiteboardsalloverthewalls.”
“Soundsexpensive.”Helenemakesaface,whichIhadalreadyanticipated.
“I’verunthenumbers.Wewereunderthetrainingbudgetforthisfinancialyear.”
“Sowhatwillwedoatthiscorporatelove-in?”
“I’vealreadycomeupwithseveralteam-buildingactivities.We’lldotheminaround-robinstyle,rotatingeachgroupsoteamsgetregularlymixedup.I’dliketobethefacilitatorfortheday.IwanttoendthiswarbetweentheBexleysandGamins.”
“Peopleabsolutelyhateteamactivities,”Helenepointsout.
Ican’targue.It’sacorporatetruthuniversallyacknowledgedthatworkerswouldrathereatratskeletonsthanparticipateingroupactivities.IknowIwould.Butuntilbusinessteam-buildingmodelsmakeasignificantadvance,it’sallI’vegot.
“There’saprizeattheendfortheparticipantwho’smadethebiggesteffortandcontributesthemost.”Ipauseforeffect.“Apaiddayoff.”
“Ilikeit,”shecackles.
“Joshuaisplanningsomethingthough,”Iwarn.Shenods.
SheenterstheColosseumatpreciselyfour.Asusual,Icanhearthemshoutingateachother.
Atfive,HelenecomesoutofMr.Bexley’sofficeandarrivesatmydeskinanirritatedstate.“Josh,”shetossesoverhershoulder,hervoicecoloredwithdislike.
“Ms.Pascal,howareyou?”Ahalofloatsabovehishead.
Sheignoreshim.“Darling,I’msorry.Ilostthecointoss.We’vegonewithJosh’sideaforteambuilding.Whatisthethingcalled?Paintballs?”
SweetbabyJesus,no.“Thatwasn’ttherecommendation.Ishouldknow;Iwroteit.”
Joshuanearlysmiles.Itshimmerslikeaholographoverhisface.Itvibratesoutofhiminwaves.“ItookthelibertyofprovidinganalternativetoMr.Bexley.Paintballing.It’sbeenshowntobeaneffectiveteam-buildingactivity.Freshair,physicalactivity…”
“Injuriesandinsuranceclaims,”Helenecounters.“Cost.”
“Peoplewillpaytwentydollarsoftheirownmoneytoshoottheircolleagueswithpaintballs,”heassuresher,staringatme.“Itwon’tcostthecompanyacent.They’llsignwaivers.We’llsplitintoteams.”
“Darling,howdoesithelpteambuildingtoseparatepeopleandgivethempaintguns?”
Whiletheyargueinfake-politevoices,Iseethe.He’shijackedmycorporateinitiativeandtakenitdowntoajuvenile,baselevel.SuchaBexleythingtodo.
“Perhapswe’llseesomeunlikelyalliancesform,”hetellsHelene.
“Inthatcase,Iwanttoseeyoutwopairedtogether,”HelenesaysarchlyandIcouldhugher.Hecan’tpaintballhisownteammate.
“LikeIsaid,unlikelyalliances.Anyway,let’snotflusterLucindabeforeherhotdate.”
“Oh,really,Lucy?”Helenetapsmydesk.“Adate.Iexpectafullreportinthemorning,darling.Andcomeinlateifyouwish.Youworktoomuch.Livealittle.”Chapter6
AtsixthirtyP.M.mykneebeginsjiggling.
“Willyoubelate?”
“Noneofyourbusiness.”Goddamnit,willJoshuaeverleave?He’sworkedaneleven-hourdayandstilllooksasfreshasadaisy.Iwanttoliefacedownonmybed.
“Didn’tyousayseven?Howareyougettingthere?”
“Cab.”
“I’mheadedtheretoo.I’llgiveyouaride.Iinsist.”Joshua’sfacehasbeenthepictureofamusementthroughoutthislittleexchange.He’swaitingformetofessupaboutlying.ItfeelsgoodtoknowIhaveDannyastheaceupmysleeve.
“Fine.Whatever.”Myfuryovertheteam-buildinghijackhasburnedaway,leavingahusk.Everythingisspiralingslowlyoutofcontrol.
Iheadtotheladiesroom,makeupbaginhand.Myfootstepsechointheemptycorridor.Ihaven’thadadateinalongtime.I’mtoobusy.Betweenwork,hatingJoshuaTempleman,andsleeping,Ihavenotimeforanythingelse.
Joshuacannotbelieveanyonewouldwanttospendtimeinmycompany.TohimI’marepugnantlittleshrew.Icarefullydrawmyeyelinerintoatinycat’s-eye.Iwipeoffmylipstickuntilonlythestainisleft.Iputasprayofperfumeintomybraandgivemyselfalittlewinkandapeptalk.
IhaveadanglypairofearringsinthesidepocketofmymakeupbagandIhookthemon.Officetoevening,likethosemagazinearticles.I’mtuggingupmybrawhenIbumpsquarelyintoJoshuaoutsidethebathroom.Heisholdingmycoatandbaginhand.Theshockofmakingcontactwithhisbodyclashesthroughme.
Helooksatmestrangely.“Why’dyoudoallthat?”
“Gee,thanks.”Iholdmyhandoutandhehooksmybagontoit.Heholdsontomycoatandpushestheelevatorbutton.
“SoIgettoseeyourcar.”Itrytobreakthesilence.Thatthoughtismorenerve-rackingthanseeingDanny.It’ssuchanenclosedspace.HaveJoshuaandIeverevensatnexttoeachotherbefore?Idoubtit.
“I’vebeenimaginingitforsolong.I’vebeenthinkingit’saVolkswagenbeetle.Arustywhiteone,likeHerbie.”
“Guessagain.”Heishuggingmycoatidly.Hisfingerstwiddlethecuff.Againsthisbodyitlookslikeakid’sjacket.Ifeelsorryforthispoorcoat.Iholdmyhandoutbutheignoresme
“MINICooper,early1980s.Kermitgreen.Theseatwon’tgobacksoyourkneesareoneithersideofthesteeringwheel.”
“Yourimaginationisquitevivid.Youdrivea2003HondaAccord.Silver.Filthymessyinside.Chronicgearboxissues.Ifitwereahorse,you’dshootit.”TheelevatorarrivesandIstepincautiously.
“You’reawaybetterstalkerthanIam.”IfeelachilloffearwhenIseehisbigthumbpushtheBbutton.Helooksdownatme,hiseyesdarkandintense.He’sclearlydeliberatingsomething.
Maybehe’llmurdermedownthere.I’llendupdeadinaDumpster.TheinvestigatorswillseemyfishnetsandheavyeyemakeupandassumeI’mahooker.They’llfollowallthewrongleads.Meanwhile,JoshuawillbecalmlybleachingallmyDNAoffhisshoesandmakinghimselfasandwich.
“Serialkillereyes.”IwishIdidn’tsoundsoscared.Helooksovermyshoulderathisreflectionintheshinywalloftheelevator.
“Iseewhatyoumean.You’vegotyourhornyeyeson.”Hespiralshisfingerdramaticallyovertheelevatorbuttonpanel.
“Nope,thesearemyserialkillereyestoo.”
Heletsoutadeepbreathandpushestheemergencystopbuttonandwejuddertoahalt.
“Pleasedon’tkillme.There’sprobablyacamera.”Itakeastepbackwardinfright.
“Idoubtit.”Heloomsoverme.HeraiseshishandsandIstarttoliftmyarmstoshieldmyfacelikeI’minsomeawfulschlockydrive-inhorrormovie.Thisisit.He’sgoingtostrangleme.He’slosthissanity.
HescoopsmeoffthefloorbymywaistandbalancesmyassonthehandrailI’venevernoticedbefore.Myarmsdroptohisshouldersandmydressslidestothetopofmythighs.WhenheglancesdownheletsoutaroughbreathwhichsoundslikeI’mstranglinghim
“Putmedown.Thisisn’tfunny.”Myfeetmakelittleineffectualspirals.Thisisn’tthefirsttimeabigkid’sthrownhisweightaroundwithme.MarcusDuShayinthirdgradeonceslungmeontothehoodoftheprincipal’scarandranofflaughing.Theplightofthelittlehumans.Thereisnodignityforusinthisoversizeworld.
“Visitmeuphereforasec.”
“Whatonearthfor?”Itrytoslidedownbuthespanshishandsonmywaistandpressesmeagainstthewall.IsqueezehisshouldersuntilIcometotheinformedconclusionthathisbodyisextravagantmuscleundertheseClarkKentshirts.
“Holyshit.”Hiscollarboneislikeacrowbarundermypalms.IsaytheonlyidioticthingIcanthinkof.“Muscles.Bones.”
“Thanks.”
Wearebothdesperatelyoutofbreath.WhenIpressmylegagainsthimforbalance,hishandwrapsaroundmycalf.
Whenheputsonehandonmyjawandtiltsmyheadback,Iwaitforthesqueezetostart.Atanymoment,hiswarmpalmwillsnaptightandI’llbegintodie.Nosetonose.Breathagainstbreath.OneofhisfingertipsisbehindmyearlobeandIshiverwhenitslides.
“Shortcake.”
ThesweetlittleworddissolvesandIswallow.
“I’mnotgoingtokillyou.You’resodramatic.”Thenhepresseshismouthlightlyagainstmine.
Neitherofusclosesoureyes.Westareateachotherlikealways,closerthanwe’veeverbeen.Hisirisesareringedblue-black.Hiseyelasheslowerandhelooksatmewithanexpressionlikeresentment.
Histeethcatchmybottomlipinafaintbite,andgoosebumpsspread.Mynipplespinch.Mytoescurlinmyshoes.IaccidentallytouchhimwithmytonguewhenIcheckfordamage,althoughitdidn’thurt.Itwastoosoft,toocareful.Mybrainiswhirringhopelesslywithexplanationsofwhatishappening,andmybodybeginstobetteritsgrip.
Whenheleansinagainandbeginstomovehismouthagainstmine,softlyplyingitopen,thepennydrops.
Joshua.Templeman.Is.Kissing.Me.
ForafewsecondsI’mfrozensolid.ItseemsI’veforgottenhowtokiss;it’sbeensolongsinceit’sbeenadailyactivity.Notseemingtomind,heexplainstheruleswithhismouth.
TheKissingGamegoeslikethis,Shortcake.Press,retreat,tilt,breathe,repeat.Useyourhandstoanglejustright.Loosenupuntilit’saslow,wetslide.Hearthedrumofbloodinyourownears?Surviveontinypuffsofair.Donotstop.Don’teventhinkaboutit.Shudderasigh,pullback,letyouropponentcatchyouwithlipsorteethandeaseyoubackintosomethingevendeeper.Wetter.Feelyournerveendingscrackletolifewitheachtouchoftongue.Feelanewheavinessbetweenyourlegs.
Theaimofthegameistodothisfortherestofyourlife.Screwhumancivilizationandallitentails.Thiselevatorishomenow.Thisiswhatwedonow.
Donotfuckingstop.
Hetestsmeandpullsbackafraction.Thecardinalrulebroken.Ipullhismouthbacktominewithmyhandfistedatthescruffofhisneck.I’maquickstudyandhe’stheperfecttutor.
Hetasteslikethosespearmintshe’salwayscrunching.Whochewsmints?Itrieditonceandburnedmymouthout.Hedoesittoannoyme,flickersofamusementinhiseyesatmyirritatedhuff.Iniphimnowinretribution,butiturgeshimcloseragainstme,bodyhard,warmingmeeverywhereweconnect.Ourteethchinktogether.
Whatthefuckishappening?Iasksilentlywithmykiss.
Shutup,ShortcakeIhateyou.
Ifwewereactorsinamoviewe’dbebumpingagainstwalls,buttonsflying,thefishnetofmystockingsshredded,andmyshoesfallingoff.Instead,thiskissisdecadent.We’releaningagainstasunlitwall,dreamilylickingicecreamcones,rapidlysuccumbingtoheatstrokeandnonsensicalhallucinations
Here,comealittlecloser,it’sallmelting.LickmineandIwilldefinitelylickyours.
Gravitycatchesmebytheankleandbeginstodragmeoffthehandrail.Joshuahoistsmeuphigherwithahandonthebackofmythigh.FromthistinylossofhismouthIgrowlinoutragedfrustration.Getbackhere,rulebreaker.He’swiseenoughtoobey.
Thesoundhemakesinreplyislikehuh.Thekindofamusedsoundpeoplemakewhentheydiscoversomethingunexpectedyetpleasing.ThatI-should-have-knownsound.HislipscurveandItouchhisface.ThefirstsmileJoshua’severhadinmypresenceispressedagainstmylips.Ipullbackinastonishment,andinonemillisecondhisfacehasdefaultedbacktograveandserious,albeitflushed.
Aharshburrcomesfromtheelevatorspeaker,andwebothjoltwhenatinnyvoiceahems.“Everythingokayinthere?”
WefreezeinatableauentitledBusted.Joshuareactsfirst,leaningovertopresstheintercom.
“Bumpedthebutton.”Heslowlysetsmedownontothegroundandbacksawayafewpaces.Ihookmyelbowonthehandrail,mylegsslidingoutonrollerskates.
“Whatthefuckwasthat?”Iwheezewiththelastofmyair.
“Basement,please.”
“Right-o.”Theelevatorslidesdownaboutthreefeetandthedoorsopen.Ifhe’dwaitedanotherhalfsecond,itwouldhaveneverhappened.Mycoatisinacrumpledmessonthefloor,andhepicksitup,dustingitoffwithsurprisingcare.
“Comeon.”
Hewalksoffwithoutabackwardglance.Myearringsarecaughtinmyhair,tangledbyhishands.Ilookforanexit.Therearenone.Theelevatordoorssnapshutbehindme.JoshuaunlocksanarrogantlysportyblackcarandwhenIreachthepassengerdoorwefaceeachother.Myeyesarebigfriedeggs.HehastoturnawaysoIdon’tseehimlaugh.Icatchthereflectionofhiswhiteteethonanearbyvan’srearviewmirror
“Ohdear,”hedrawls,turningback,dragginghishandoverhisfacetowipeawaythesmile.“I’vetraumatizedyou.”
“What…what…”
“Let’sgo.”
Iwanttosprintawaybutmylegswon’tholdmeup.
“Don’teventhinkaboutit,”hetellsme.
Islideintohiscarandnearlyfallunconscious.Hisscentisintensifiedinhereperfectly,bakedbysummer,preservedbysnow,sealedandpressurizedinsideglassandmetal.Iinhalelikeaprofessionalperfumer.Topnotesofmint,bittercoffee,andcotton.Midnotesofblackpepperandpine.Basenotesofleatherandcedar.Luxuriousascashmere.Ifthisiswhathiscarsmellslike,imaginehisbed.Goodidea.Imaginehisbed.
Hegetsin,tossesmycoatonthebackseat,andIlooksidewaysathislap.Holyshit.Iavertmyeyes.Whateverhe’sgotthereisimpressiveenoughtomakemyeyesslidebackagain.
“You’vediedofshock,”hechideslikeaschoolteacher.
Mybreathisshakingoutofme,andheturnstolookatme,eyespoison-black.HeraiseshishandandIflinchback.Hefrowns,pauses,thentwistsmyclosestearringcarefullybackintoposition.
“Ithoughtyouweregoingtokillme.”
“Istillwantto.”Hereachesfortheotherearring,andhisinnerwristiscloseenoughtobite.Painstakingly,hetugsthecaughtstrandsofhairuntilmyearringhangsproperlyagain.
“Iwantto.Sobad,youhavenoidea.”
Heturnsthecaron,backsout,anddrivesasthoughnothinghappened.
“Weneedtotalkaboutthis.”Myvoiceisroughanddirty.Hisfingersflexonthesteeringwheel.
“Itseemedliketherightmoment.”
“Butyoukissedme.Whywouldyoudothat?”
“IneededtotestatheoryI’vehadforawhile.Andyoureally,reallykissedmeback.”
Itwistinmyseatandthelightsaheadgored.Heslowstoastopandlooksatmymouthandlegs.
“Youhadatheory?Morelike,youweretryingtomessmeupbeforemydate.”CarsbehindusarebeepingandIlookovermyshoulder.“Go.”
“Oh,that’sright,yourdate.Yourimaginaryfakedate.”
“It’snotimaginary.I’mmeetingDannyFletcherfromdesign.”
Thelookofshockedsurpriseonhisfaceismagnificent.Iwanttocommissionaportraitartisttocaptureitinoils,soIcanpassitdowntofuturegenerations.It.Is.Priceless
Carsbegintopulloutfromeithersidebehindus,hornsbleatingandwailing.Astringofroad-rageobscenitiesmanagetojerkhimfromhisstupor.
“What?”Hefinallynoticesthegreenlightandacceleratessharply,brakingtoavoidhittingacarswervinginfront.Hewipesonehandoverhismouth.I’veneverseenJoshuasoflustered.
“DannyFletcher.I’mmeetinghimintenminutes.That’swhereyou’redrivingme.Whatiswrongwithyou?”
Hesaysnothingforseveralblocks.IstarestubbornlyatmyhandsandallIcanthinkaboutishistongueinmymouth.Inmymouth.Iestimatethere’sprobablybeenabouttenbillionelevatorkissesinthehistoryofmankind.Ihateusforthecliché.
“DidyouthinkIwaslying?”Well,technicallyIwaslying,butonlyatfirst.
“Ialwaysassumeyou’relying.”Hechangeslanesinanangryswerve,anominousblackthundercloudoftempersettlingoverhim.
Here’safact.Hatingsomeoneisexhausting.Eachpulseofbloodinmyveinstakesmeclosertodeath.Iwastetheseendingminuteswithsomeonewhogenuinelydespisesme.
IdropmylidssoIcanrememberitagain.I’mshimmeringwithnerves,heavingaboxontomydeskatthenewlymintedB&Gbuilding,tenthfloor.Thereisamanbythewindow,lookingoutattheearly-morningtraffic.Heturnsandwemakeeyecontactforthefirsttime.
I’mnevergettinganotherkisslikethatagain,notfortherestofmylife.
“Iwishwecouldbefriends,”Iaccidentallysayoutloud.I’veheldthosewordsinforsolongitfeelslikeI’vedroppedabombshell.He’ssosilentIthinkmaybehedidn’thearme.ButthenhecastsmealooksocontemptuousthatIfeelapainfultwistinside.
“We’llnever,everbefriends.”Hesaysfriendslikehe’dsaythewordpathetic.
WhenheslowsthecaratthefrontofthebarI’moutandrunningbeforehe’sevencometoacompletestop.Ihearhimshoutmyname,annoyed.IregisterthathecallsmeLucy.
IseeDannyatthebar,bottleofbeerdanglingfromhisfingertips,andIpinwheelthroughthecrowdandfallintohisarms.PooroldDanny,whohasturnedupearlylikeagentleman,withnoideawhatkindofcrazywomanhe’sagreedtospendaneveningwith.
“Hi.”Dannyispleased.“Youmadeit.”
“’Course!”Imanageashakylaugh.“IneedadrinkafterthedayI’vehad.”
Ihoistmyselflikeajockeyontothebarstool.Dannysignalstothebartender.Identicalbaseballbatsswingonhugescreenspositionedabovethebar.IfeelthememoryofJoshua’smouthonmine,andIpressmyshakingfingertipstomylips.
“Abigginandtonic.Asbigasyoucan,please.”
ThebartenderobligesandIemptyhalfofthecontentsintomymouthandmaybealittledownmychin.IlickthecornersofmymouthandIstilltasteJoshua.DannycatchesmyeyeasIlowertheglass.
“Iseverythingokay?Ithinkyouneedtotellmeaboutyourday.”
Itakeagoodlookathim.He’schangedintosomedarkjeansandanicebutton-downcheckshirt.Ilikethathe’smadeanefforttogohomeandchangeforme.
“Youlooknice,”Itellhimhonestly,andhiseyesspark.
“Andyoulookbeautiful.”Histoneisconfidential.Heleanshiselbowonthebarandhisfaceisopenandwithoutmalice.Ifeelaweirdbubbleofemotioninsidemychest.
“What?”Iwipemychin.Thismanislookingatmelikehedoesnothateme.It’sbizarre.
“Icouldn’texactlytellyouatwork.ButI’vealwaysthoughtyouwerethemostbeautifulgirl.”
“Oh.Well.”IprobablyturnbrightredandIfeelatightnessinmythroat.
“Youdon’ttakecomplimentswell.”
“Idon’tgetmany.”It’sthehonesttruth.Hejustlaughs.
“Oh,sure.”
“It’strue.Unlessit’smymomanddadonSkype.”
“Well,I’llhavetochangethat.So.Tellmeallaboutyou.”
“IworkforHelene,asyouknow,”Istartuncertainly.
Henods,hismouthquirking.
“Andthat’saboutit.”
Dannysmiles,andInearlyreelbackwardoffmybarstool.I’msobadlysocializedIcanbarelyconversewithnormalhumanbeings.Iwanttobeathomeonmycouchwithallofthepillowspiledonmyhead.
“Yes,butIwanttoknowaboutyou.Whatdoyoudoforfun?Where’syourfamilyfrom?”
Hisfaceissoopenandguileless.Ithinkofchildrenbeforetheworldruinsthem.
“MayIgoandfreshenupfirst?Icamestraightfromtheoffice.”Iswallowtheotherhalfofmyglass.Thefaintmintonmytonguedeadenstheflavor.
HenodsandImakeabeelineinthedirectionofthebathrooms.Ileanagainstthewalloutsidethemandtakeatissuefromthefrontofmybraandpressittothecornersofmyeyes.Beautiful.
Ashadowdarkensthehall,andIknowit’sJoshua.Eveninthefurthestcornersofmyperipheralvision,hisshapeismorefamiliarthanmyownshadow.He’sholdingthecoatIleftinhisbackseat.
Iburstoutlaughing,andIkeeplaughinguntilthetearsstripedownmyface,almostcertainlyruiningmymakeup.
“Fuckoff,”Itellhim,butheonlycomescloser.Hetakesmychinandstudiesmyface.
Thememoryofthekissfloatsupbetweenus,andIcan’tlookhimintheeye.IrememberthegroanImadeintohismouth.Humiliationkicksin.
“Don’t.”Islaphimaway.
“You’recrying.”
Ihugmyself.“NoI’mnot.Whyareyouevenhere?”
“Parkingisanightmarearoundhere.Yourcoat.”
“Oh,mycoat.Sure.Whatever.I’mtootiredtofightwithyoutonight.Youwin.”
HelooksconfusedsoIclarify.“You’veseenmelaugh,andcry.YoumademekissyouwhenIshouldhaveslappedyoursmugface.You’vehadagoodday.Goandwatchthegameandeatpretzels.”
“IsthattheprizeyouthinkI’mplayingfor?Toseeyoucry?”Heshakeshishead.“It’sreallynot.”
“Sureitis.Nowgoaway,”Itellhimmoreforcefully.Hebacksawayandleansagainsttheoppositewall.
“Whyareyouhidinghere?Shouldn’tyoubeouttherecharmingtheshitoutofhim?”Helooksinthedirectionofthebarandrubshishandoverhisface.
“Ineededaminute.Andit’snotalwaysthateasy,trustme.”
“I’msureyouwon’thaveanytrouble.”
Hedoesn’tsoundsarcastic.Iwipemytearsandlookatthetissue.Quiteabitofmascaraonit.Iheaveashudderysigh.
“Youlookfine.”It’sthenicestthinghe’seversaidtome.
Ibeginpattingmyhandalongthewall,tryingtofindtheportaltoanotherdimension,oratleastthedoortotheladiesroom.Anythingtogetawayfromhim.Heputshishandintohishair,hisfacetwistingwithagitation.
“Ishouldn’thavekissedyou,okay.Itwasafuckingstupidmoveonmypart.IfyouwanttoreportmetoHR—”
“That’syourproblem?You’rescaredI’mgoingtoreportyou?”Myvoiceisraisingloudenoughthatbarpatronsturn.ItakeadeepbreathandwhenIspeakagainIamquieter.
“You’vebrokenmedownsocompletely,Ican’tevenhandleitwhenaguytellsmeI’mbeautiful.”
Dismayspreadsacrosshisface.
“That’swhyI’mcrying.BecauseDannytoldmeI’mabeautifulgirl,andInearlyfelloffthebarstool.You’veruinedme.”
“I…”hebeginstosay,buthe’sgotnothing.“Lucy,I—”
“There’snothingleftyoucandotome.Youwintoday.”
Fromthelookonhisface,IthinkI’velandedapunch.Hisshadowrecedesalongthefloor,andthenhe’sgone.Chapter7
IcallHeleneinthemorningtosayI’mnothungoverbutI’mhavingafewpersonalissuesandI’llbeinalittlelate.Sheiskindandtellsmetorestandtakethedayoff.
Rest,andfinishupyourjobapplicationbecause,darling,it’sduetomorrow
I’mmissingoutonapaleyellowshirttoday.It’sthecolorofnurserywallswhentheunbornbaby’sgenderisasurprise.It’sthecolorofmycowardlysoul.
LastnightafterJoshuaslidawayfromme,hisfacetwistedwithguiltandregret,ItidiedmyselfupandsatbackdownwithDannyandsalvagedtheevening.DannyandIhavesomethingsincommon.Hisparentshaveahobbyfarm,somyrevelationthatIgrewupinastrawberrypatchdidn’tgarnertheusualamountofamused,patronizingscorn.
ItgavemethecouragetotalkmoreaboutitthanIusuallywould.Weswappedstoriesoflifeonafarm.Iwatchedtheexpressionsslideacrosshisfacelikeclouds.Wehungoutforhours,laughinglikeoldfriends,ascomfortableasapairofslippers.
Ishouldbehappyandexcited.I’mshouldbepolishingmyjobapplication.Ishouldbethinkingaboutaseconddate.IendupdoingtheonethingIshouldn’t.Ilieinbedwithmyeyesclosed,replayingthekiss.
Shortcake,ifwewereflirting,you’dknowaboutit.
MaybeheforgotIwasLucindaHutton,people-pleasingStrawberryShortcake,andImorphedintosomethingdifferentforhim.Anenclosedspace,differentmakeup,mydressshortandmyperfumefresh.Inamomentruledbyinsanity,Iwastheobjectofhislustfromthetimeittookustotravelfromtenthfloortobasement.Andhewasdefinitelymine.
IneededtotestatheoryI’vehadforawhile.Whattheory?Howlongisawhile?IfIweresomekindofhumanexperiment,hecouldhavehadthedecencytogivemehisconclusion.
WhenIthinkabouthisteethbitingsoftlydownonmybottomlip,Igetaclenchingflutterbetweenmylegs.WhenIthinkofhishandonthebackofmythigh,Ihavetoreachdownandfeelwherehisfingersspread.Thehardnessofhisbody?Icanskipbreathingforabit.IwonderhowItastedtohim.HowIfelt.
I’mloafingaroundinmypajamasatthreeP.M.,paralyzedbytheloomingapplicationdeadline,whenmydoorbuzzerstartlesme.Myfirstthoughtisit’sJoshua,cometodragmebacktowork.Instead,it’sadeliverymanwithflowers.Ahugebouquetoflipstick-redroses.Ipinchopenthelittleenvelopeandthecardsaysthreewholewords.
You’realwaysbeautiful.
There’snosignaturebutitdoesn’tneedone.IcanimagineJeanette’sexpressionsofteningasshehandsDannyaPost-itnotedetailingmyaddresswithamuttered,Youdidn’tgetthisfromme.EvenHRladiesbreaktherulesforlove
Itexthim:Thankyousomuch!!
Herepliesalmostinstantly:Ihadagreattime.I’dlovetoseeyouagain.
Ireply:Definitely!
Istand,handsonhips,lookingattheflowers.Theegoboostcouldn’thavebeentimedbetter.Iturnbacktomycomputer.Thatjobwillbemine.AndJoshuawillbegone.
“Let’sgetthisfinished.”
HE’SABIGblurofmustardoutofthecornerofmyeyewhenIwalkinonFriday.IhangmycoatandwalkstraightintoHelene’soffice.Foronceshe’sinearly.Icouldenfoldherinmyarmsandsqueeze.
“I’mhere,”Itellher.ShewavesmeinandIclosethedoorbehindme.
“Isitin?”Inod.
“Joshua’sistoo.Andtwoexternalapplicantssofar.Howwasyourdate?Areyouallright?”
She’salwaysthepictureofcomposure.Todayshe’swearingablazeroverwhatisprobablyapuresilkT-shirt,tuckedintoawoolskirt.NothingascommonascottonforHelene.Ihopewhenshediesshebequeathsherwardrobetome.
Ieaseintoachair.“Itwasfine.DannyFletcherindesign.Ihopethat’sokay;he’sfinishingupnextweektofreelance.”
“Shame.Hedoesgoodwork.Seeinghimwon’tbeaproblem.”
MymindflashestokissingJoshuaintheelevator.That’saproblem,allright.
“Butsomethinghappened,”Helenesurmises.
“IhadahugeargumentwithJoshuabeforethedate,anditrattledme.Iwokeupfeelingunstable.LikeifIcameinherewe’dbothbewheeledoutbyparamedics,drenchedinblood.”
Heleneiseyeingmespeculatively.“Whatwastheargumentabout?”
Maybeitisn’tsuchagoodideatoventaboutmypersonalissueswithHelene.I’mterminallyunprofessional.MycheeksheatandwhenIcan’tthinkofalie,Iabbreviate.
“HethoughtIwaslyingabouthavingadate.I’msolame.”
“Interesting,”shesaysslowly.“Haveyouthoughtaboutthisveryhard?”
Ishrug.Onlyobsessively,tothepointwhereIcouldn’tsleep.
“I’mupsetwithmyselfforlettinghimpushmybuttons.Youhavenoideahowharditis,sittingoppositehim,tryingtoresisthisconstantattacks.”
“I’vegotsomeidea.It’scalledbrinkmanship,darling.”Shegesturesatthewallwithherthumb.
She’stheperfectpersontoconfidein.Mr.Bexleyisontheothersideofherwallrightnow,plottingwaystoassassinateher.Shefollowsmyeyeline.Wehearafainthonkingsneeze,afartsound,andsomegrumbling.
“Whywouldheassumeyouwerelying?Andwhydiditupsetyousomuchthathedid?”HeleneisdrawingspiralsonhernotepadandIfeelalittlehypnotized.She’sturnedintomytherapist.
“HethinksI’msuchajoke.He’salwayslaughingaboutwhatmyparentsdo.I’msurehelaughsatwhereIwenttoschool.Myclothes.Myheight.Myface.”
Shenodspatiently,watchingmetrytountanglethesecomplicatedthoughts.
“Itbothersmetoknowhethinksthatofme.That’sthebitthattripsmeup.AllIwantishisrespect.”
“Youprizeyourreputationofbeinglikableandapproachable,”shesupplies.“Everyonelikesyou.Heistheonlyonewhoresists.”
“Helivestodestroyme.”MaybeI’mgettingalittleoverdramatic.
“Andyou,him,”shepointsout.
“Yes.Andthisisn’tthepersonIwanttobe.”
“Don’tinteractwithhimtoday.Youcouldtakethevacantofficedownonthethirdfloorforafewdays.Wecoulddivertthephones.”
Ishakemyhead.“Tempting,butno,Icandealwithit.I’lldraftthequarterlyreportandkeeptomyself.I’llforgetheexists.”
Icanstillrememberthetasteofhismouth.Ibreathedhishotexhalationsuntilmylungswerefilledwithhim.Hisairwasinsidemybody.Hetaughtmethingsinthespaceoftwominutesthatthespanofmylifetimedidnot.Forgettinghisexistenceisgoingtobeachallenge,butthisjobisnothingbutchallenges.
IgentlycloseHelene’sofficedoorandgathermyself.Iturnandthereheis,slouchedathisdesk.
“Hey.”IgetaflatterversionofHowYouDoing?
“Hello,”Irespondstifflyandwalkontinystiltstomydesk.
Whathesaysnextastonishesme.“I’msorry.I’mso,sosorry,Lucy.”
Ibelievehim.Thememoryofhisrawexpressionashestumbledawayfrommeatthebarhasmadeitnearimpossibletosleepfortwonightsinarow.Nowisthemoment.Icouldtakeusbacktoournormalstatusquo.Icouldsnapathim;he’dsnapback.Butthat’snotthepersonIwanttobe.
“Iknowyouare.”Webothnearlysmileandwelookateachother’smouth,theghostofthekissjanglingbetweenus.
He’snothisimmaculateselftoday.He’salittlerougharoundtheedges,probablyfromafewbadnights’sleep.HismustardshirtistheugliestcolorIhaveeverseen.Histieisbadlyknotted,hisjawisshadowedwithstubble.Hishairisamessandhasadevil’shornononeside.He’spracticallyaGamintoday.Helooksdivineandhe’slookingatmewithamemoryinhiseyes
Iwanttorununtilmylegsgiveout.Iwanttosweepeverythingoffhisdeskwithmyarm.Icanfeelmyclothestouchingmybareskin.That’showJoshua’seyesmakemefeelwhenhelooksatme.
“Let’sputourweaponsdown,okay?”Heraiseshishandstoshowhe’sunarmed.Hishandsarebigenoughtoencirclemyankles.Iswallow.
Tohidemyawkwardness,Imimetakingagunoutofmypocketandtossitaside.Hereachesintoanimaginaryshoulderholsterandtakesoutagun,puttingitonhisplanner.Iunsheatheaninvisibleknifefrommythigh.
“Allofthem.”Iindicateunderthedesk.Hereachesdowntohisankleandpretendstotakeahandgunoutofanankleholster.
“That’sbetter.”Isinkintomychairandclosemyeyes.
“You’redeeplyweird,Shortcake.”Hisvoiceisnotunkind.IforcemyeyesopenandtheStaringGamealmostkillsme.Hiseyesaretheblueofapeacock’schest.Everythingischanging.
“AreyougoingtoreportmetoHR?”
Somethinginmychestfoldspainfully.Sothat’swhyhelookslikeshit.He’shadahellishdayyesterday,anticipatingbeingmarchedoutofthebuildingbysecurityuponmyreturn.Myemptydeskwouldhavebeenterrifying.Hesatthere,visualizingthemomentheislockedinjailforbeingamolesteroftinywomen.Iunderstandnow.Stupidme.
“No.Butcanwepleasenevermention…it…again?”Itcomesoutofmealittlehoarse.I’mlettinghimoffthehook,insteadoftauntinghimwiththeprospect.AnothersteptowardbeingthepersonI’dliketobe.Regardless,hefrownslikehe’sbeendeeplyinsulted.
“That’swhatyouwant?”
Inod,butI’msuchalittleliar.AllIwanttodoiskissyouuntilIfallasleep.Iwanttoslideinbetweenyoursheets,andfindoutwhatgoesoninsideyourhead,andunderneathyourclothes.Iwanttomakeafoolofmyselfoveryou.
Mr.Bexley’sdoorisajarsoIspeakasquietlyasIcan.“It’sfreakingmeout.”
Hecanseethatit’sthetruth.I’vegotdesperate,crazyeyes.Henodsandjustlikethat:Control,A;Delete.Thekissneverhappened.
Iprayforadiversion.Afiredrill.Juliecallingmetosayshewouldnevermeetadeadlineeveragain.I’mnottheonlyoneprayingforthefloortocavein.
“Howwasyour…date?”Hisvoiceisfaint,hisknuckleswhite.Beingnicetomeisalotofeffort.
“Fine.We’vegotalotincommon.”Itryinvaintowakemycomputer.
“You’rebothextremelysmall.”He’sfrowningathisowncomputerasifthisistheworstconversationhe’severbeenpartyto.Beingfriendswithmedoesnotcomenaturally.
“Hedidn’teventeasemeaboutthestrawberries.Dannyis…nice.He’smytype.”It’sallIcanthinkoftosay.
“Niceiswhatyouwant,then.”
“It’sallanybodywants.Myparentshavebeenbeggingmeforagestofindmyselfaniceguy.”Ikeepmyvoicelight,butinside,alittlebubbleofhopeisrising.We’retalkinglikefriends.
“AnddidMr.NiceGuydriveyouhome?”
Iknowwhathe’saskingme.“No.Igotacab.Bymyself.”
Hebreathesoutheavily.Herubshisfaceinexhaustion,thenlooksatmethroughhisfingers.“Whatshallweplaynow?”
“WhataboutNormalColleagues?OrtheFriendshipGame?I’vebeendyingtotryeitherofthose.”Ilookupandholdmybreath.
Hesitsupstraightandglowersatme.“Bothwouldbeawasteoftime,don’tyouthink?”
“Well,ouch.”IfIsayitsarcastically,hewon’tknowI’mserious.Heopenshisplanner,pencilinhand,andbeginsmakingsomanyannotationsthatIblinkandturntomycomputer.Ican’tcareabouthisstupidplanneranymore.Hispencil,myspyingexperiment.Itallendsrightnow.It’sallbeenawasteoftime.
Itellmyselftobeglad.
TODAYISAmagnificentblackT-shirtday.Writetodayinyourdiaries.Tellyourgrandchildrenstoriesaboutit.Itearmyeyesaway,buttheyslidebackmomentslater.UnderneaththatT-shirtisabodythatcouldfoganelderlylibrarian’sglasses.Ithinkmyunderweariscurlingoffmelikeburningpaper.
It’saweekafterthekissthatIneverthinkabout.Bexley&Gamin’sAlphabetBranchisbeingherdedontoabuslikecattle.
“Waivers,”Joshuaissayingoverandoveraspeopleslapthemintohishand.“Waiverstome.CashtoLucinda.Hey,thisisn’tsigned.Signit.Waivers.”
“Who’sLucinda?”someonefartherbackinthelineasks.
“CashtoLucy.Thisridiculouslysmallpersonrighthere.Hair.Lipstick.Lucy.”
Iknowsomeonewhoisgoingtoberiddledwithpaintshortly.ThelinesurgesforwardandI’mnearlyflattenedagainstthebus.
“Hey,Ididn’ttellyoutotrampleher.”
Joshuawhipsthemallbackandrebalancesmebesidehimlikeabowlingpin,thewarmthofhishandsearingthroughmysleeve.JuliethentouchesmyotherelbowandInearlyjumpoutofmyskin
“Sorryformissingthedeadlinetheotherday.Ican’twaittohaveapropernight’ssleep.I’mlikeazombie.”
ShehandsmehertwentyandhernailshaveFrenchtips.Icurlmyslightlychippednailsintomypalms.
“Iwashopingforafavor,”shesays,andoverhershoulderIcanseeJoshuatense,eartiltedtoourconversationlikeasatellite.Eavesdroppingisunbecoming.IdrawJulieawayalittle,myhandoutstretchedaspeoplecontinuetoslaptwentiesintoit.
“Okay,whatisit?”Alreadymystomachissinking.
“Mynieceissixteen,andsheneedstodoaninternship.Herschoolcounselorthinksitwouldhelphertogainsomeperspective.Shecan’tskipclassesandsleepallday,youknow?Teenagershavenoideaoftheconceptofwork.”
“YoucouldtalktoJeanette,shecouldarrangesomething.”Itakesomeoneelse’scash.“Theyalwayswanttoworkwiththedesignteam.”
“No,Iwanthertodoaninternshipwithyou.”
“Me?Why?”I’mseizedwiththeurgetorunaway.
“You’retheonlypersonherewho’dbepatientenoughwithher.She’salittlebitopinionated.”
Thisisaworldfirst,butIwishJoshuawouldinterrupt.Somethinghappen.Please.Iambeamingmessageshissatelliteearisnotreceiving.Joshua,Mayday,Mayday,Iwilldoanythingforyouifyouinterrupt.
“She’sgotalotofissues.Drugs,andafewotherthings.Please,wouldyoudoit?It’dmeanalottohermother,anditmightgetherbackontrack.”
“Well.CanIthinkonit?”IavertmyeyesfromJoshuawhohasabandonedeavesdroppingandhasnowturnedtofaceus,handonhip.
“Ineedtoknownow.She’smeetingwithherschoolcounselorinhalfanhour.She’smeanttohavesomethinglinedup.”Julielooksatme,hermouthcurledinanexpectantsmile.
“Howlongwoulditbefor?Like,aday?”
Julietakesastepcloser,squeezingmyarmpainfullyinherbeautifulhand
“It’dbefortwoweeksduringthenextschoolbreak.You’resuchasweetheart.Thankyou,I’lltexthernow.Shewon’tbehappybutyou’llbringheraround.”
“Wait,”Ibegin,butshe’salreadyclimbingontothebus.
“Well,thatwentwell.YouknowwhatIwouldhavetoldher?”Joshuasays.
Istickahandintomyhair.Myscalpfeelshotandprickly.“Shutup.”
“I’dhavesaidonelittleword.It’ssimple,youshouldtryitsometime.Sayitwithme.No.”
“Hey,”Dannysayswithasmileashejoinsthequeue.
“No.Hi.”Idomycutestgrin.Ihopehe’swearingsunscreenonhisprettysilver-blondskin.“Youmadeit.Iguesspaintballingisagoodwaytocelebrateyourlastday.”
“Yeah,it’llbefun.MitchellsaidIdidn’thavetocome,butIwantedto.Theteamtookmeoutforafarewelllunchtoo.”
Iknowmostofthis;we’vebeenemailingallweek,andIhelpedhimcarrysomeboxestohiscar.Thelittleenvelopeicononmytoolbarhasbeengivingmelittletwingesofexcitement.I’vebeenhotandrestlessallmorning.Light-headed.Idefinitelyhaveacrush.
“Waiver,”Joshuainterjects.Dannyhandshimthepaper,nottakinghiseyesfromme.
“Iloveyourhairtoday,”DannytellsmeandIduckmyhead,flattered.It’sthecorrectthingtosaytome.I’mridiculouslyvainaboutmyhair.Myconditionerisprobablyworthmoreperouncethancocaine.
“Thanks,it’sgonealittlecrazy.Ithinkit’sabithumid.”
“Well,Ilikeitalittlecrazy.”Dannytouchesthehaywirecurlsrestingonmyupperarm.Wemakeeyecontactandstartlaughing.
“I’llbetyoudo,sleazebag.”Ishakemyhead.
“Giveherthemoney,thengetonthebus,”Joshuasaysslowly,likeDannyisverysimpleindeed.Theyexchangeanunfriendlylook.ItakehistwentyandgivehimaFlamethrowersmileinreturn.
“Wannabeteammates?”
“Yes,”IsayatthesametimeasJoshuabarks,No.Hesureisgoodatsayingthatword.
“Teamsarepre-allocated,”hesnaps,andDannyshootsmealookthatclearlysays,What’suphisass?
“Iwashopingto—”Dannybegins,butJoshuashootshimhisownlook:Whateveryou’retrying?Don’t.Thelastpersoninthelinegivesmetheircash,andweareleftstandinginafogofweirdtension.Chapter8
I’lltalktoyouinabit,”Dannypromisesmeandboardsthebus.Idon’tblamehim.Joshuahashisarmscrossedlikeanightclubbouncer.
“Whatthehellwasthatabout?”IaskJoshua.Heshakeshishead.
HeleneandMr.BexleyswerveoutintheirrespectivePorscheandRollstomeetusthere.Ofcourse,they’renotgoingtoparticipateintheteambuilding.They’regoingtositonthebalconyoverlookingthepaintballparkanddrinkcoffeeandhateeachother’sguts.
“Let’sgo,”Joshuasaysandpushesmeontothebus.Thereareonlytwoseatsleft,andthey’rerightupfront.Joshuahasreservedthemwithstacksofclipboards.Dannyleansintotheaisleandshrugsregretfully.
Joshuasentthebranchanemailinstructingustochangeintooldcasualclothesatlunch.Thingswewon’tmindruining.I’mwearingskintightjeansandastretched-outvintageElvisT-shirt.Itusedtobelongtomydad.Fat,jumpsuitElvis,microphoneraisedtohislips.Itslideslooselyoffmyshoulder.ThelookIwastryingtoemulatewasKateMossatamusicfestival.JudgingbyJoshua’sfacewhenhesawme,I’matragicloser.Hedid,however,lookattheemerald-greenstrapofmysportsbra.Iknowthatforafact.
Joshuaalsogotchangedintocasualclothes.Whilehefoldedhisblackbusinessshirtneatlyonhisdesklikearetailassistant,Icaughtmyreflectiononthewalldiagonaltohim;aslack-jawedmaskofidioticlust.Firstly,Joshuaiswearingjeans.They’reallbeaten-upandworn,withice-bluepaintflecks,andtheypulltautacrosshisthighsashesits.Ican’tfaultthosejeans.
Next,he’swearingaT-shirt.Thesoft,threadbarecottonmeltsalloverhistorsoasheslouches.TheshapesgoingonunderthatT-shirtare…Thesleevesarecuttinggentlyintobicepsthataremakingme…Butit’shisflatstomachthatI’m…Theskinisallgoldlike—
“MayIhelpyouwithsomething?”HesmoothesdowntheT-shirt.Myeyesslitheralongbehindhishand.IwanttoscrunchupthatT-shirtintoabowlandeatitwithadessertspoon.
“Ineverthoughtyou’dwear…”Igesturevaguelyathisfabuloustorso.
“YouthoughtI’dbepaintballinginHugoBoss?”
“HugoBoss,eh?Didn’ttheydesigntheNaziuniforms?”
“Lucinda,Iswear.”Hecloseshiseyesfornearlyafullminute.Hepinchesthebridgeofhisnose.I’dswearhe’stryingtonotlaugh,orscream.
Icrossmyeyesathim,pokemytongueout,andsay,“Derrrr.”Hedoesn’tcrack.Defeated,ItwistupandlookovertheseatsuntilIseeDanny’sruffledhair.Wewavetoeachotherandpullidenticalfacestoindicatehowunhappywearewithourseatmates.ThenitoccurstomemyboobsareprobablyacoupleofinchesfromJoshua’sheadandIslidebackdown.
“Youandhim?It’sgettingalittlepathetic.”Joshuaistesty.
Thewordcutsmedeep.Pathetic.He’scalledmethatbefore.We’vecircuitedbackneatlytothesameplacewe’remostcomfortable.Ihadwonderedhowthingswouldplayoutafterthekiss,afterthetears,thewoundedsadnessinhiseyes.Theapology.Thesilencethathasstretchedthrougheachdaysince.
AccordingtoJoshua,we’rebacktohate,andIcan’tdoitmuchlonger.Ican’tkeepitgoing.It’stakingtoomuchoutofme.Whatwasonceaseasyasbreathingisnowanuphillbattle.I’msotiredI’maching.
“Sure.I’mpathetic.”Iwatchtheroadahead,andtheStaringGameisgoingon,one-sided.Iignorehim.Noonecanseeusexceptthedriver,ifshechosetolook,butshe’sgottraffictocontendwith.
“Shortcake.”
Iignorehim.
“Shortcake.”
“Idonotknowanyonebythatname.”
“Playwithmeforaminute,”hesaysitsoftly,rightinmyear.Iturnmyfacetohisandtrytoregulatemybreathing.
“HR,”Imanage.HisfaceissoclosetomineIcantastehisbreath,hotmintsweetness.Icanseethetinystripesinhisirises,tinyunexpectedsparksofyellowandgreen.TherearesomanybluesIthinkofgalaxies.Littlestars.
“Areyourrosesstillalive?”
Isthereanythingthismandoesnotknow?Itrytonotnoticethatourelbowsaretouchingalittle.Elbowsarenoterogenous.Atleast,Ididn’tthinktheywere.
“Who’dyouhearaboutthemfrom?”
“Well,everyoneknowsDannyFletcherisyourdreamman.Rosesandwhatnot.Candlelitlunchesfortwointheworkkitchen.”Helooksatmylips,andIlickthem.Helooksatmybrastrap,andmykneespresstogether.
“Who’syoursource?”
Hiseyesaregettingdarker.Thepupiliseatingtheblue,andIthinkofhiselevatoreyes.Murderouseyes.Passionateeyes.Crazy-personeyes.
“Insidesource?Likemagazineshaveforcelebrities?Areyouacelebrity,Lucinda?”
“Idon’tknowhowyouknowsomuch.”
“I’mperceptive.Iknoweverything.”
“YouknowIhaverosesinmybedroombecauseofwhat,bodylanguage?Mindreading?You’resofullofshit.Youprobablylookthroughmywindowwithalong-rangetelescope.”
“MaybeIhavetheapartmentoppositeyours.”
“Youwishyoudid,youcreep.”I’mbeginningtofeelthefirstpricklesofsweatonmyspine.Ifhedid,I’dprobablybetheonesittinginthedarkwithbinoculars.
“Well?Arethey?”
“Theywilted.Ihadtotossthemoutthismorning.”
Hishandslidesdownmyarm,slowly,softly,pressingthegoosebumpsflat.HishandissocoldIglanceupathisface.Hisfaceissettoadefaultfrown.
“You’reprettyhot.”
“Yeah,butthat’scommonknowledge.”I’msarcasticasIpullaway.Thebusjoltsaroundacornerandalittlewaveofdizzinessblursmyvisionandnauseaturnsmystomachover.I’mnotgettingsick.Mybodyisprobablyreactingtothestressofthejobapplicationprocess,thekiss,andthemurder-glintinJoshua’seyes.
“Lookingforwardtobeingannihilated?”
ImanagethebestretortIcan.
“I’mgoingtodestroyyou.TheHatingGame.Youversusme.It’stheonlywaythiscanpossiblyend.”
“Right,”Joshuabarksabruptly,standingupandkneelinginhisseattoaddressourcolleagues.Theyallreluctantlystoptalking,andIsensemutinyisafoot.
Ikneeluptoo,andwaveateveryone.Theyallsmile.Goodlittlecop,universallydespisedcop.InoticetheGaminsaresittingtotheleft,theBexleystotheright.
“Therewillbeatotalofsixchallengestoday,”Joshuabegins.
“Sevenifyouincludehim,”Iaddandgetsomecheaplaughs.Hescowlssidewaysatme.
“Sixteamsoffour.Eachchallengeyou’llbeinadifferentgroup.Theaimistogettoknowyourcolleaguesinanoutdoor,activeenvironment.Asteamsyou’llcomeupwithstrategiestogettheflagfirst.”
Thereareblankfaces,andhesighsheavily.“Seriously?Nooneherehaseverdonepaintball?Youwillbetryingtogettheflagbeforetheopposingteam.Mainruleisnopaintballingtheflagmarshals.Oreachother’sfaces,orgroins.”
Darnit,that’sallI’vebeendreamingabout.
“Marion,Tim,Fiona,Carey,youareflagmarshals.Youareassessingtheteamparticipationfromthevantagepointbesidetheflag.Scoringpeople,ifyouwill.”
I’mslightlyimpressed.Iwasabitconcernedimaginingthosefourheavingtheirheavy,pain-riddled,agingbodiesacrossapaintballcourse.CareyandMarionnodtoeachotherself-importantlyasJoshuapassesbackfourclipboards.Iwishhe’ddiscussedallofthiswithme.He’sincompletecontrolandIdon’tlikeit.
“Afterwefinish,wewillconveneuponthedeckforcoffeeandtodiscusswhatwe’velearnedabouteachothertoday.”Heslithersbackdownintohisseat.
“Anyquestions?”Ilookaroundandafewhandsareraised.
“Dowegetoveralls?”
Joshuasayssomethingunderhisbreaththatsoundslikefuckingmorons.I’llfieldthisone.
“You’lleachgetaprotectivesuitandahelmettoprotectyoureyesandface.”IfeelJoshua’ssighatmyhipsinkthroughmyT-shirt.
“Yes.”Ipoint,andAndylowershishand.
“Howmuchdopaintballshurt?”
“Alot,”Joshuasaysfromhisseat
“Remember,folks,theaimisn’ttohurteachother.”IglancedownatJoshua.“Nomatterhowbadyouwantto!”
“Areyoutwoonopposingsides?”someoneatthebackcalls,causinglaughter.
Ourreputationforhatredhasgottenalittleoutofhand,andmostofitismyfault.Ihavetoquitwiththehating-Joshuajokes.
“Thisisdesignedtobringusalltogether.We’llallbeoneachother’steamatsomepoint,likeinaworksituation.EvenJoshuaandIwillfindsomecommongroundtoday.Anyway.Thegrandprize!”Everyonesitsupstraight.
“Theprize,”Joshuainterruptsloudlyfromhisseat,“isanextraleavedaycreditedtoyou.That’sright—afreedayoff.Butyouhavetoearnitdisplayingoutstandingcommitmenttoyourteam.”
There’sabuzzamongthegroup.Afreedayoff.Adayreleasefromjail.Itdanglesabovethemalllikeabrassring.
PaintballShootoutislocatedinasmallpineplantation.Thegroundisdustyandstark.Thetreesachefordeath.Acrowcirclesoverhead,makingominouscreakingnoises.Everyonestragglesintoalumpycirclenearthegates.
AguyinacamouflagePaintballShootoutcoverallsposeslikeanarmysergeantbesideJoshua.Theybothhavethesametall,muscled,marinebodytypes.MaybeJoshuaspendshiseverysparemomenthere.They’rebrothersinarms.Comradeswho’veseensomeseriouslypaintyshitgodowninthisbarrenwasteland.Whentheybothstareexpectantlyatme,IrealizeI’msupposedtobestandingupfronttoo.
Joshuademonstrateshowtoputthesuitandprotectivegearonandeveryonewatcheswithkeeninterest.SergeantPaintballfieldstheslewofstupidquestionswithpracticedpatience.Weallreceiveoursuits,helmets,kneepads.Thenwe’rearmed.
Weareadultsundertakingateam-buildingactivityinaprofessionalcapacity,sonaturallywespendseveralminuteshorsingaround,strikingposeswithourpaintballgunsandmakingsoundeffects.JoshuaandSergeantPaintballwatchuslikeorderliesatamentalfacility.Alan,recentBirthdayBoy,pretendstomowusalldown.“Pew,pew,pew,”heintonesinhisgravebaritone.“Pew,pew.”
Iscrambleoutofthepathofonefakeskirmishandstarttofeelundersizedandfeeble.Ilookatallthelonglegsandeyeslitwithpaint-lust.Maybetensionswillboilover.They’llallgorogue,GaminsversusBexleys,swappingpaintballgunsforAK-47s.
Sweatisstartingtobeadonmybrowandupperlipandwhateverisgoingonwithmystomach,it’sbad.MylipstickisafadedpinkPopsiclestainandmyhairisstuffedintoaheavyhelmet.Thesmallestsuittheyhadisstillsobigthatpeoplelaughwhentheyseeme.Suchelegance.Suchgrace.Iamgoingtoneedtoconcentratereallyhardongettingthroughthisafternoon.
Helenewavestome.Sheisstandingonanobservationdeck,wearingawhitevisor,creamlinenshirt,andwhitecigarettepants,sippingDietCokethroughastraw.OnlyHelenewouldwearwhitetoapaintballpark.Mr.Bexleyissulkingaboutsomethingandremainsseated,armscrossed,abullfroginkhaki.
“Havefun,everyone,”Helenecalls.“Andremember,wecanseeyou!”WiththateerieBigBrothercommentringinginourearswebegin.
JoshuareadsoutthefirstteamsandI’monhis.Westrideoutwithourteammates,AndyandAnnabelle.TwoGamins,twoBexleys.Ouropposingteamfilesout,asimilarratio.Hemusthavesortedeachteamlikethis.
Ishouldhaveopenedmymouththislastweektoaskhimaboutthearrangements,buttheawkwardnessbetweenushasbeeninsurmountable.Plus,sincemycorporateretreatideawascompletelydestroyedI’vefeltlacklusterandsulkyabouteverything.Hehijackedit,hecandamnwellorganizeit.
ButasIrealizetheairisfilledwithpalpableexcitement,Irealizemygrandideahasnowbecomehisachievement.I’msuchanidiot.
IspotMarionwiththeflag.Shewavesmerrilywithapengrippedbetweenherteeth,clipboardinhand,andbinocularshangingonherchest.Sheistakingherfaux-importantjobseriously.
“What’stheplan,team?”Ican’tseeouropposition.
“Sticktogetherorspreadout?”Annabelleisunsure.
“Hmm,I’dsayprobablysticktogether,giventhisisateam-buildingchallenge.”IpropmyselfuponsomeslenderpinebranchesandwishIcouldwipemyface.InthissuitI’msohotIfeelfaint.
“Weshouldpickonepersonwho’llbegoingfortheflag,andprotectthem,”Andysays,whichisagoodidea.
“Ilikeit.Who’sgoingtodoit?”
TheybothpeepfurtivelyatJoshua,clearlyfearfulofhim.Somehow,thehelmetdoesn’tlookstupidonhim.Hisglovedhandlooksbigenoughtopunchthroughabrickwall.Heshouldbeminiaturizedandsoldintoystoresforviolentlittleboys.
“Annabelle,”Joshuadecides.“Andifshegetsshot,we’llgofortheflaginalphabeticalorder,firstnames.”
Great.MeaningAndy,Joshua,andthenLucy.Basically,nooneisprotectingmeatall.I’mcannonfodder.Wefileoutandtakecover.Andyseesmyrisingpanicandsmileskindly.“We’llalllookafteryouLuce,don’tworry.”
IknewsomehowJoshuawouldfindawaytoscrewwithme.Iamcomingoutofthisbruised,battered,andpaint-splattered.AndIcan’tevenshoothimuntilI’mrotatedontoanotherteam.
There’sahornblast,andI’mcrawlingonhandsandkneesupaninclineawkwardly,theloosedirtmakingmeslide.Iammovingfirst.Itmakessense,givenourstrategy.I’llscoutthewayforward.I’mthemostexpendable.
Myarmswon’tseemtoholdmeupproperlyandIcollapseontomystomach.Annabellerunsaheadofmewithwindmilllimbsandzerostrategyorstealth.Ikneelupandtrytocallherback.AhandclampsonmycalfandI’mdraggedbackwarduntilJoshuaflopsdownnexttome,guninhand.Hemotionsatmetoliedown.
“Don’t,”Ihissathim.
“You’llgetshotinthefaceifyoupopuplikethat.”
“Whydidn’tyouletmethen?”
Hishandspreadsacrossmylowerback,pinningmefirmlytotheground.IntheprivacyofmymindIcanadmittheweightofhishandisdelicious.Thesliversoffabricbetweenourskinbeginstoglow.
“What’swrongwithyou,anyway?”
“Nothing’swrong.”Itrytosquirmaway.
“Youlookterrible.”
“Thanks.WehavetocoverAnnabelle.”Iedgeuptoseehertotteringawkwardlyamongslendertreetrunks,completelyexposed.Andyisgallantlyleapingafterher.Theflagisanorangescrapinthedistance.
I’mupandrunning,Joshuabehindme.IfallbehindaboulderandspotMarnieontheopposingteam.Raisingmygun,Ifireoffacoupleofrounds,clippingherintheshoulder.Shesaysadisappointed,“Aw,”andwalksoff.
WhenIlookatJoshuahelooksmildlyimpressed.“Badass.”
Annabelleisoutofsight.Theairisfilledwithcracks,pops,andcriesofpain.Afterafewshortruns,IfindAndykneelingonthegroundtryingtotiehisbootlacewithabigsplatofpaintonhischest.
“Oh,Andy!”
HelooksupatmewiththewearyeyesofaVietnamvetwhoknowshe’sabouttodie,bloodgeyseringfromapulpystomachwound.Hegraspsatmyknee.“Gosaveher.”
Hehasbeenwatchingtoomanyactionmovies,butsohaveIjudgingbytheswellofresponsibilityandprotectivenessinsideme.IwillsaveAnnabelle.
“I’mgoingtogetaCoke,”Andytellsme,ruiningthemoment.
Ikeeprunning.MybreathfeelsshortandI’mfoggingmygogglesalittle.Ihearacrackandjumpbehindapyramidofbarrels,whichdrumwiththesoundofshots.Ilookdown.Nothingonmesofar.IassumeI’dfeelit.Icheckthebacksofmylegs.
“You’reclear,”Joshuacalls.Ilookoverathim,crouchednearbybehindabigtreestump.He’sholdinghispaintballguninacoolway,pointedstraightatthesky.Itrytocopyhimandbegintodropit.
“Dork,”hecommentsunnecessarily.Hemusthavestrongwrists.
“Shutup.”
Annabelleiscrouchedbehindamiserable,suicidalsapling.IwatchherraisehergunandtakeoutMattfromtheopposition.Iletoutayelpofdelightandsheturnsandgivesmethethumbs-up,grinningwidelyasshewavesmeforward.Theflagisflutteringaboutthirtyyardsaway.Sheisabruptlyshotinthecenterofherbackandyipsinpain.Idon’tneedtoevenlookatJoshuatoknowthatheisshakinghisheadatme.
“Offyougothen.I’llprotectyou.Justyouandmenow,buddy.Agebeforebeauty.”
“Great.I’madeadman.”Hemakestheshortruntomybarrelhideoutandcheckshisammo,glancingoverhisshoulder.
“Wereyourparentsinthemilitary?”Itwouldexplainalot.Therigidbehaviors,thebrisk,impersonalmanner.Addictiontorulesandsequences.Hisneatnessandeconomyineverythinghedoes.He’snowgotalackoffriendsandtheinabilitytoconnect.Ibethisparentshadfrequentforeignpostings.Hebouncesaquarteroffhisperfectlymadebed.
“No,”hetellsme,checkingmygunforme.“They’redoctors.Surgeons.Well,theywere.”
“Aretheydead?You’rean…orphan?”
“AmIwhat?They’reretired.Aliveandwell.”
“Huh.Areyoufromhere?”Thetipofmygunisrestinginthedirt.I’mtootired.IhopeIgetshot.Ineedarest.
“Onlymeandmybrotherliveinthecity.”Hefrownsatmeandtapsmygunwithhis.“Holdyourgunup.”
“There’stwoofyou?Heavenhelpus.”Itrytoobeybutmyarmsarewatery.
“You’llbepleasedtoknowwe’renothingalike.”
“Doyouseehimmuch?”
“No.”Heassessesthecourseinfrontofus.
“Whynot?”
“Noneofyourbusiness.”Sheesh.
IcanseeDannyinthedistancestalkingthroughthetreesintheskirmishhappeningonthenextrotationover,adividingropebetweenus.Igivehimawaveandheliftsahandinresponse,asmilespreading.Joshuaraiseshisgunandshootshimtwiceonthebackofthethighwithsharpshooteraccuracy,thensniffsderisively.
“Whatgives?I’mnotagainstyou,”Dannyshouts.Hecallsouttohisflagmarshalandresumes,thistimewithaslightlimp.
“Thatwasunnecessary,Joshua.Verybadsportsmanship.”
Webegintomoveforward,andhe’sbentlowatthewaist,surprisinglylightonhisfeetashesidestepsavolleyofshots,bumpingmebackwardbehindatree.Theflagisdanglingcloseby,buttherearestilltwoofouropponentsoutthere.
“Quiet,”wehisstoeachotherinunisonandlookateachother.TheworstplacetoplaytheStaringGameisinthemiddleofalivepaintballsession.
Ihavetoleanmyhelmetbackagainstthetreetolookupathimproperly.HiseyesareacolorI’veneverseen.Thethrillofliveactioncombatelectrifieshim.Helooksawaytocheckbehindus,ascowldarkeninghisface.HowdoIevermanagetokeepmycomposureunderthosefierceeyes?
We’repressedtogether.Myskininstantlysensitizes,andwhenIglancesidewaysIgetaperipheralglimpseofhiscurved,heavybicep.MyheartstutterswhenIrememberhowitfelttohavehishandonmyjaw,cradlingit,tiltingmeuptomeethismouth.Tastingmelikesomethingsweet.HeislookingatmymouthandIknowheisrememberingtheexactsamething.Chapter9
You’resweating.”Joshuafrowns.Maybenotthen.
Icanhearatwigcrackandrealizesomeoneisapproachingbehindus.IraisemyeyebrowsinaskanceandJoshuanods.Mymomentishereandheneedstogettheflag.Igrabhandfulsofhispaintballsuitandswinghimaroundbehindmeagainstthetree.
“Whatareyou—”hestartstosaybehindmyback,butI’mscanningtheterrainfortheambush.I’mLaraCroft,raisingherguns,eyesburningwithretribution.Icanseetheshapeoftheenemy’selbowbehindthebarrels.
“Go!”Iyell.Ifumbleinmythickglovesforthetrigger.“I’mcoveringyou!”
Ithappensinstantly.Pop,pop,pop.Painradiatesthroughme—arms,legs,stomach,boob.Ihowl,buttheshotskeepcoming,whitesplatsalloverme.It’scompleteoverkill.Joshuapivotsusneatlyandblockstheshotswithhisbody.Ifeelhimjoltingashetakesmorehitsandhisarmrisestocradlemyhead.CanIfreezetimeandtakeanaprighthere?
Heturnshisheadandshoutsangrilyatourassailant.Theshotsstop,andnearbyIhearSimoncrowwithtriumph,standingontopofthemoundandwavingtheflag.Dammit.Myonejobandhewouldn’tevenletmedoit.
“Youshouldhavegone.Iwascoveringforyou.Nowwe’velost.”Anotherwaveofnauseanearlyknocksmeover.
“Sor-reeee,”Joshuasayssarcastically.Robisapproaching,gunlowered.I’mmakingwhimperingnoises.Thepainisthrobbinginpointsalloverme.
“Sorry,Lucy.I’msosorry.Igotabit…excited.Iplayalotofcomputergames.”RobtakesafewstepsbackwhenheseesJoshua’sexpression.
“You’vereallyhurther,”Joshuasnapsathim,andIfeelhishandcupmyhead.He’sstillpressingmeagainstthetree,kneebracedbetweenmine,andwhenIlooktomyleftIseeMarionwatchinguswithherbinoculars.Shedropsthemandwritessomethingonherclipboard,agrincurlinghermouth.
“Off.”Igivehimanalmightyshove.HisbodyishugeandheavyandI’msoboilingIwanttoripmysuitoffandlieincoldpaint.We’reallpantingalittleaswewalkbacktothestartingpointunderthebalcony.I’mlimpingandJoshuatakesmyarmbrusquely,probablytomovemeonfaster.IseeHeleneupahead,loweringhersunglasses.Iwavelikeasadcartoonkitten;womp,womp
Casualtiesabound.Peoplegroanastheypressthepaintedpartsoftheirbodiesgingerly.Dozensofreenactmentsaretakingplace.Ilookdownandrealizemyfrontisalmostsolidpaint.Joshua’sfronthalfisfine,buthisbackisamess.Trustustobeopposites.
WhenIstripoffmyglovesandhelmet,Joshuagivesmehisclipboardandabottleofwater.Iraiseittomylipsanditseemstobeemptyquickly.Everythingfeelsweird.JoshuaasksSergeantPaintballiftheyhaveanyaspirin.
Dannypickshiswaythroughourfallencomradestojoinme.I’macutelyawareofhowdisgustingImustlook.Helooksatmyfront.“Ouch.”
“I’mseriouslyonebigbruise.”
“DoIneedtoavengeyou?”
“Sure,that’dbegreat.Robfromcorporateisthedefinitionoftriggerhappy.”
“Considerhimtakencareof.Andwhatwasthat,Josh?YoushotmeinthelegandIwasinacompletelydifferentgame.”
“Sorry,Igotconfused,”Joshuasays,insincerityringinginhistone.
DannyshadeshiseyesandJoshuasmirksupattheskyOurcolleaguesstumbleandflail,paintslickedandinpain,unsureofwhattodonext.Thingsarerapidlystartingtodisintegrate.Iconsulttheclipboard.Iseehe’swrittenmeonhisteamforeveryrotation,probablyatHelene’srequest.She’dneverknow.She’sdoingaSudokupuzzle.Iquicklyuseapencilandchangeitbeforecallingoutthenextteams.Peopleclumptogether,complaining.
“Wait,they’regettingthefirst-aidkit.You’dbettersittherestoftheafternoonout.Something’swrongwithyou,”Joshuasays.IglanceupatHeleneagain,andthenlookateveryonearoundme.Icouldbeinchargeofthisbunchsoon.Thisafternoonisanaudition,nodoubtaboutit.I’mnotgoingtofailitnow.
“Yeah,you’vebeentellingmesincethedaywemet.Enjoytherestofyourafternoon.”Iwalkoffwithoutabackwardglanceintomynewteam.
Itfeelslikethelongestafternoonofmylife,butitalsogoesbyinaflash.Thefeelingofbeingstalkedandwatchedisunnerving,andinoursmallteamswedoforminstantbonds.IshoveQuintusfromaccountsreceivableintoabunkeraspinkpelletsraindownoverus.
“Go!Go!”IroarlikeaSWATteamleaderasBridgetgoosestepsthroughtotheflag,burstsofpaintclippingatherheels.TheextentofhowsickIamrevealsitselfduringmythirdrotation,afterIsnatchedtheflag.Iknewitwasdeeplytragicofmetofeelsotriumphant,buthonestlyIfeltasthoughI’dscaledEverest.Myteammatesscreamed,andbigbasketball-playerSamantha—aBexley—pickedmeupoffthegroundandswungmeinacircle.Ithrewupalittleinmymouth.
Myarmsshakefromthestrainofholdingthegun.Everythingfeelsslightlysurreal,asifatanymomentI’llawakefromabadafternoonnap.Theskyoverheadisasilver-whitedome.
Ilookatthefacessurroundingme,shiningwithsweat.Ifeelsuchakinshipwiththesepeople.IwatchaGaminhigh-fiveaBexleyastheyburstoutlaughing.We’reallinittogether.MaybeJoshuahadagoodideawiththis,afterall.Maybetheonlywaytotrulyunitepeopleisthroughbattleandpain.Confrontationandcompetition.Maybesurvivingsomethingisthepoint.
WhereisJoshua,anyway?Idon’tseehimfortherestoftheafternoonexceptfortheteamrotationbreaks.Witheverypersonstalkingthroughthetreesmyeyeswouldplaytricks.I’dseehimkneelingdown,reloading,andtakingshots.I’dseetheshapeofhisshouldersandthecurveofhisspine.ButthenI’dblinkanditwouldbesomeoneelse.
I’mexpectingthatonefatalshot.Abigredsplat,straighttotheheart.
“Where’sJoshua?”Iasktheflagmarshalsandtheyshrug.“Where’sJoshua?”IaskeveryoneIpass.“Where’sJoshua?”Theanswersstarttogetclippedandirritated.
Itugatmypaintballsuitdespitetherhythmicpopsandcracksoflivefire.Ipulldowntheneckbandineffectually,baringhalfaninchofsweatyskintothecoldair.ThenIthrowup.It’snothingbutwaterandtea.Ididn’tfeellikelunchtoday.Orbreakfast.Ikicksandoveritandwipemymouthonthebackofmyhand.TheplanetiscirclingtooquicklysoIholdontoatree.
TheairisbeginningtochillasthefinalhornsoundsandwealltrudgebacktoHQ.Everyoneisvisiblyexhaustedandthereisagreatdealoffussaswestripoutofoursuits.Everybodyiscomplaining.SergeantPaintballlookslikehe’sevaluatinghislifechoices.JoshuaisstandingwithonehandonhishipandIinstinctivelyraisemygun.It’stime.
LucyversusJoshua,totalannihilation.
Hewalksovertome,completelyunperturbedbymyaction-manposeandtakesthegun.Ipullmyhelmetoff.Hestepsbehindmeandhisfingersslideinthesweatonthenapeofmyneck.It’slikehe’stouchedalivewireandImakeaweirdgurgle.Hegripsthezipperofmysuitandslashesitdownmyback.Ihoparoundtogetitoff,battingawayhishands.
“You’resick,”heaccuses.IshrugnoncommittallyandweaveupthestairstowhereHeleneandFatLittleDickwait.
“Lookslikesomeexcellentteamworkwenton,”Helenesays.Weletoutaweakcheer,proppingeachotherup.IlifttheedgeofmyT-shirt.Mybruisesarepurple.Thesmellofcoffeemakesmefeelill.Imakemywaytothefront.Joshua’sbeenrunningthislittleshowfortoolong.Icansalvagethis.
“CanIcallourfourflagmarshalstostandanddiscusstheactsofteamworkandbraverytheywitnessed?”
TheflagmarshalsmaketheirobservationsandItrytoholdittogether.Apparently,Suziecausedacommotion,allowingherteammatetoslipupandgettheflag.
“Igotfourshotsforthat,”Suziecalls,pattingherhipandwincing.
“Butyoutooktheshotsforyourteam,”Mr.Bexleysays,rousinghimselfoutofhisstupor,whichIambeginningtosuspectiscausedbyprescriptiondrugs.“Goodwork,younglady.”
“Andspeakingofbravery,”Marionsays,andmystomachsinks.“LittleLucyheredidsomethingquiteremarkable.”
AcheergoesupandIwaveitaway.Ifonemorepersoncallsmelittle,small,orridiculouslysmallIamgoingtokaratechopthem.
“Shetookatleasttenroundsforacolleaguetoday,protectinghimfromsomeonewhowasgoingalittleoverboard.Thatpersonremainsnameless.”ShelookspointedlyatRobandhecowerslowertothegroundlikeaguiltydog.Otherpeoplefrownathim.
“She’sstandinginfrontofhercolleague,armsoutstretched,protectinghimtothedeath!”Marionmimesmyactions,armsscarecrowstraight,bodyjoltingfromtheshots.She’sagoodactress.
“Andtomysurprise,Iseeit’snoneotherthanJoshTemplemanthatLucyisprotecting!”
Abiglaughbreaksout.PeopleswapamusedlooksandtwogirlsfromHRelboweachother.
“But—butthen!Heswingsheraroundtoprotectherandtakespaintballsintheback!Protectingher!Itwasquitesomething.”
Anotherfunfact:Marionreadsromancenovelsinthekitchenatlunchtime.IcatchJoshua’seye,andhewipeshisforeheadroughlyonhisforearm.
“Itseemspaintballhasbroughtusalltogethertoday,”Imanagetosayandeveryoneclaps.IfthiswereaTVepisode,we’vejustreachedthelittlemoralconclusion:Stophatingeachother.Heleneispleased;herlipsarepursedinaknowingsmile.
TheDayOffPrizeisawardedtoSuzie,andsheacceptsherlittlemockcertificatewithadeepbow.DeborahhastakensomegoodactionshotsonhercameraandIaskhertoemailthemtomeforthestaffnewsletter.
Helenecatchesmebytheelbow.“Remember,I’mnotinonMonday.I’llbemeditatingunderatree.”
Everyoneheadsdowntothebus,andI’mgratifiedtoseeit’snowhardertotellwho’sGaminandwho’sBexley.Everyonelookslikeatrainwreck;bedraggledclothesandred,sweatybrows.Mostofthewomenhavepandaeyemakeup.Despitethephysicaldiscomfort,there’sanewsenseofcamaraderie.
HeleneandMr.BexleypeeloutagainlikeWackyRacers.Afewpeoplearebeingpickedupbyspouses,andthere’saconfusingswirlofcarsanddust.Thebusdriverputsdownhernewspaperatourapproachandunlocksthedoor.
“Pleaseholdonforafewminutes,”Itellher,andjogbackinside.Imakeittothebathroomandamviolentlysick.BeforeIcanfeellikeit’scompletelyoutofmysystemthere’sasharpraponthebathroomdoor.There’sonlyonepersonIknowwhocouldknocksoimpatiently,andputsomuchirritationintoit.
“Goaway,”Itellhim.
“It’sJoshua.”
“Iknow.”Iflushagain.
“You’resick.Itoldyou.”Hejigglesthedoorknoblightly.
“I’llgethomebymyself.Goaway.”
There’sasilenceandIfigurehe’sgonebacktothebus.Ithrowupagain.Flushagain.Iwashmyhands,leaningmylegsagainstthesinkuntilthesplash-backsoaksintomyjeans.Elvisclingstomedamply.
“I’msick,”Iconfidetomyreflection.I’mfevered,eyesglittering.I’mblueandgrayandwhite.Thedooriscreakedopen,andIsquawkinfright.
“Holyshit.”Joshua’seyebrowspinchtogether.“Youlookbad.”
Icanbarelyfocusmyeyes.Thefloorisspinning.“Ican’tmakeit.Thatbustrip.Ican’t.”
“IcouldcallHelene.Shecouldcomeback,shecouldn’thavegottenfar.”
“No,no,I’llbeokay.She’sdrivingtoahealthretreat.Icantakecareofmyself.”Heleansonthedoorframe,hisbrowcreased.
Isteelmyself,cuppingalittlecoldwaterinmyhandandsloshitoverthebackofmyneck.Myhairhasbeenunravelingfromitsbunandstickstomyneck.Irinsemymouth.“Okay,I’mallright.”
Aswewalkback,hepinchesthelittlejointofmyelbowbetweentwofingerslikeabagofgarbage.Icanfeeltheavideyeswatchingusfromthetintedbuswindows.Ithinkofthetwogirlsnudgingeachotherandshakehimloose.
“Icouldleaveyouhereanddrivebackandgetyou,butitwouldtakeanhour,atleast.”
“You?Comebackandgetme?I’dbehereallnight.”
“Hey.Don’ttalklikethatanymore,allright?”He’sannoyed.
“Yeah,yeah,HR.”Iwobbleupontothebus.
“Ohdear,”Marioncallsloudly.“Lucy,you’relookingawful.”
“Lucy!”Dannycallsfromtherearofthebus.“Savedyouaseat!”He’ssofarbackinthebusittelescopesclaustrophobically.IfIsitbackthereIwillabsolutelyvomitoneveryone.Sorry,ImouthatDannyandsitinthefrontseatandclosemyeyes.
JoshuapressesthebackofhishandtomydampforeheadandIhiss.“Yourhandiscold.”
“No,you’reburningup.Weneedtogetyoutoadoctor.”
“It’salmostFridaynight.Whatarethechancesofthathappening?Ineedtogotobed.”
Thetriphomeisprettybad.I’mtrappedinanendless,unmarkedperiodoftime.I’mabuginajarbeingshakenbyakid.Thebusisswaying,hot,airless,andIfeeleverybumpandcurve.IfocusonmybreathingandthefeelingofJoshua’sarmpressedagainstmine.Atoneparticularlysharpcornerheuseshisshouldertosupportmeuprightinmyseat.
“Why?”Iaskuselessly.Ifeelhimshrug.
We’reunloadedinfrontofB&G.AfewwomenclusteraroundmeandItrytounderstandwhatthey’resaying.JoshuaisholdingmebythescruffofmydampT-shirtandtellsthemit’sfine.
HehasalivelydebatewithDanny,whokeepsaskingme,“Areyousure?”
“Ofcourseshe’sfuckingsure,”Joshuathunders.Thenwe’realone.
“Didyoudrive?”
“Jerryneedsanotherweekend.Themechanic.I’llgetabus.”
Hemovesmeforward;aheaving,sweatingmarionette.Mymouthtasteslikeacid.Hisgripdropsfrommynecktoloopafingerintothelooponthebackofmyjeans,theotheronmyelbow.IcanfeelhisknucklepressingabovemybuttcrackandIlaughoutloud.
ThestairstothebasementparkinglotaresteepandIbalk,buthepushesmeon,handstightening.Heuseshisswipecardtogetusinandsteersmesteadilytowardhisblackcar.Icansmellcarfumesandoil.Icansmelleverything.Idry-retchbehindapoleandhehesitantlylaysahandbetweenmyshoulderblades.Herubsitaroundalittle.Ishudderthroughanothervolleyofnausea.
Joshuaguidesmetothepassengerseat.HeslingsthebagI’dforgottenaboutintothebackseat.HeidlesthecarandIglimpsemyselfinasidemirror,myheadrolledtotheside,adarkflushonmycheekbones,gleamingwithsweat,mymascarasmudged.
“Now.Areyougonnabesickinthecar,Shortcake?”Hedoesn’tsoundimpatient,orannoyed.Heopensmywindowafewinches.
“No.Maybe.Well,possibly.”
“Usethisifyouneedto,”hetellsme,handingmeanemptytakeoutcoffeecup.Heputsthecarintoreverse.“Tellmewheretogo,then.”
“Gotohell.”Istartlaughingagain.
“Sothat’swhereyoucamefrom.”
“Shuddup.Goleft.”Inavigatehimtomyapartmentbuilding.Ikeepmyeyesclosed,andcountmybreaths,anddonotvomit.Itisquiteanachievement.
“Here.Outfrontisfine.”
HeshakeshisheadandindefeatIdirecthimtomyemptyparkingspace.HehastohelpmeclimboutofthecarandIsagagainsthim.Mycheekmomentarilyrestsonsomethinglikehischest.Myhandgripssomethinglikehiswaist.
Hehitsthebuttonandwestandatoppositesidesoftheelevatorcar,andtheStaringGameisoverlaidwithhot,sweatymemoriesofthelasttimewedidthistogether.
“Youreyeswerelikeaserialkillerthatday.”Imusthavevomitedoutmyfilter.
“Sowereyours.”
“IlikeyourT-shirt.Somuch.It’smagnificentonyou.”
He’smystifiedashelooksdownathimself.“It’snothingspecial.I…likeyourstoo.It’sasbigasadress.”
Theelevatordoorsopens.Ilurchout.Unfortunately,hefollows.
“I’mhere,”Ileanonmydoor.Hedigsmykeysfrommybagandunlocksthedoor.
I’veneverseenanyonesodesperatetobeinvitedinside.Hisheadpokesinfarther.Hishandsarehangingontothedoorframelikehe’sabouttofallin.
“It’snotwhatIexpected.It’snotvery…colorful.”
“Thankyou,good-bye.”Ipushintothekitchenandseizeaglass.ThenIdrinkstraightfromthefaucet.
“Ithinkwecouldfindanafter-hoursclinic,”Joshuasaysbehindme,andtakestheglassbeforeIcandropit.Hepushesmytoasterstraightagainstthewallandtofillintheawkwardsilencehefoldsadishcloth.Hisfingernailpicksatacrumbgluedtothecountertop.Ohman,he’soneofthosepeoplewholovetoclean.Hewantstorolluphissleevesandbleachandscrub.
“It’ssomessy,isn’tit?”Ipointatamugwithalipstickmark.Helooksatitlonginglyandwesimultaneouslybegintotrytogetpasteachotherinthetinyspace.
“Letmetakeyoutoadoctor.”
“Ineedtoliedown.That’sall.”
“Isthereanyoneyouwantmetocall?”
“Idon’tneedanyone,”Iannounceproudly.Iholdmyhandoutformykey.Heholdsitoutofreach.Idon’tneedanyonetolookafterme.Icangetthroughthis.I’maloneinthisworld
“Aloneinthisworld?Sodramatic.I’llgotothedrugstoreandseewhatIcangetyou.”
“Sure,sure.Haveaniceweekend.”
Asthedoorsnicksshut,Ireconfirmthatmyapartmentisabitofadisasterzone,cluttered,andyes,alittlecolorless.MydadcallsittheIgloo.Ihaven’thadenoughtimeyettoputmystampontheplace.I’vebeentoobusy.TheSmurfcabinettakesupalargepartofthelivingroomwall,darkwithoutthespeciallightsswitchedon.ThankgoodnessJoshualeft.
MybedlookslikeI’vebeenhavingdisturbing,sexualdreams,whichisaccurate.Thesheetsareallrumpledandtwisted,andonthesidewhereamanshouldbeisstrewnwithbooks.LingeriestrapsandSmurf-patternedunderwearpeekoutofdrawerslikelettucefromaburger.ItakethecopyofJoshua’splannerfrommynightstandandhideit.
Myshoweriswonderful,torturous,endless.Iturnitcoldandfreeze.Iturnithotandburninsidemyskin.Idrinkthespray.Igoopabigpileofshampooonthetopofmyheadandletitrinseaway.AnindicationImustbeneardeathisIcan’tbebotheredtocondition.
Myheadspinswithnonsensicalimages,andIleanagainstthetilesandrememberwhatitwasliketoleanagainstatreewithJoshuaTemplemanshieldingmewithhisbody.
IntheprivacyofmymindIcanimaginewhateverIwant,andtheyaren’tprogressive,twenty-first-centurythoughts.
They’redepraved,brutalcavewomanthoughts.Inmymind,he’selectricwiththeanimalinstincttoprotectme,hisheavymusclebracedovermybody.Heabsorbseachimpactanditishisprivilege.He’sinjectedsharpandhardwithnature’ssuperdrug,testosterone.
I’mwrappedinhim,safefromanythingtheworldwantstothrowatme.Anythingpainfulorcruelwillhavetogetthroughhimbeforeithasanychanceoftouchingme.Anditwillneverhappen
“Alive?”
IscreamwhenIrealizethatresonatingvoiceisn’tinmyimaginationandclingtothetiles.
“Don’tcomein!”Ididclosethedoor.Thankyou,guardianangels.IcrossmyarmsoverallofmyX-ratedzones
“OfcourseIwon’t,”hesnaps.
“Iamcompletelynaked.Bruises…”I’maMonetwatercolor;purplewaterliliesfloatingingreen.Hesaysnothing.
“Well,goout.Intothelivingroom.”
MyskinhurtswhenItowelmyself.Icrackthebathroomdooropenandhearsilence.Iscurryoutandfindunderwear,aheinousbeigebra,shorts,andanoldcrappypajamatopwithapictureofacutedinosauronit,hisdrowsyeyeshalfclosed.Underneathhimreads:SLEEPYSAURUS
I’mnakedandputtingonclothes,separatedfromJoshuabyonlybyawall.Iloveyou,wall.Whatagoodwall.Itossmyselfsohardintobedthemattresssqueaks,andit’sthelastthingIhear.
IWAKEUPinavolcano.“No!No!”
“I’mnotpoisoningyou.Quitsquirming.”Joshua’shandisbehindmyneckashepressestwopillsontomytongue.Iswallowwaterandthenhelowersmeflat.
“Mymotheralwaysgavemelemonade.Andshe’dsitwithme.WheneverIwokeup,she’dstillbethere.Didyours?”IsoundlikeI’mfiveyearsold.
“Myparentsweretoobusyonshiftlookingafterothersickpeopletodothatstuffforme.”
“Doctors.”
“Yep,exceptme.”Anedgeinhisvoicedenotesasoretopic.
Ifeelhishandonmyforehead,fingerslightandstiff.“Let’sdoatemperaturecheck.”
“Ifeelsofuckingstupid.”Myvoiceisgarbledduetothethermometerhe’sputintomymouth.Hemusthaveboughtit,becauseIdon’townone.I’mcurrentlyinsideamomentdestinedtobecomethemostcringe-worthymemoryofmylife.
“You’llneverletmelivethisdown.”That’swhatItrytosay.ThankstothethermometeritcomesoutlikeI’vegotaheadinjury.
“SureIwill.Don’tchewthethermometer,”herepliesquietly,takingitoutofmymouth.
“Wedon’twantyoutogetoveronehundredfour.”Intheloweveninglight,hiseyesaredarkenednavyasheassessesmealmostclinically,beforesmoothinghishandovermyforeheadagain,softly,notcheckingmytemperature.Mypillowisadjustedalittle.HiseyesarenotthemanIknow.
“Okay.Pleasestayforaminute.Butyoucanleaveifyouwant.”
“Lucy,I’llstay.”
WhenIeventuallydream,it’saboutJoshuasittingontheedgeofmymattress,watchingmesleep.Chapter10
I’mvomiting.JoshuaTemplemanisholdingalargeTupperwarecontainerundermyface—theoneIusuallycarrycakestoworkin.Icansmellthesweet-plasticresidueoficingandeggs.Ithrowupmore.Hiswristisholdingupmylimphead,myhairgatheredinhisfist.
“Thisissodisgusting,”Igroaninbetweenheaves.“I’mso—I’mso—”
“Shh,”herepliesandIfallasleep,shudderingandgasping,whilehewipesmyfacewithsomethingcoldanddamp
Theclocksays1:08A.M.whenIsituprightagain.Awetcompressfallsintomylap.Ijerkinfrightattheweightonthebednexttome.
“It’sme,”Joshuasays.He’ssittingagainstmyheadboardwithhisthumbinaSmurfpriceguidebook.He’sgotnoshoesonandhissockedfeetarecasuallycrossedattheankles.Theotherbookshavebeenstackedneatlyonmydresser.
“I’msocold,”Ichatter.Iputmyhandintomyhair;it’sstilldampfrommyshower.Heshakeshishead.“Youhaveafever.It’sgettingworse.”
“No,cold,”Iargue.Istumbleintothebathroom,leavingthedoorajar.Ipee,flush,andthenrealizehowunladylikeIwas.Oh,well.He’sseenandheardalmosteverythingnow.There’snothinglefttodobutfakemyowndeathandstartanewlife.
Iusemyfingertorubsometoothpasteonmytongue.Gag.Repeat.
Ihearcottonunfurling,thesnapofelastic,andthecreakofmattress,andthroughthecrackinthedoorIwatchhimputfreshsheetsonthebed.I’masoggy,disgustingmess,butIstillmanagetowatchhisbent-overbackside.
“HowYouDoing?”Helooksatmeunderhisarmandhaulsthelastcornerofthesheetintoplace.Myluckymattressisbeingmanhandled.
“Oh,justfine.HowYouDoing?”Ifallintobed,andclawtheblanketsupontome.Themattressdepressesheavilybesidemeandhishandisonmyforehead.
“Ah,that’snice.”
HishandfeelslikethesortoftemperatureIshouldbestrivingfor.Everythingwedoistitfortat,soIraisemyhandsupandputthemonhisforehead.
“Okay.”Heisamused.
I’mtouchingmycolleagueJoshuaontheface.I’mdreaming.I’llwakeuponthebuswithhimsneeringatthetrailofdroolonmychin.Butaminuteticksby,andIdon’t.
Islidemyhandsdown,oversandpapergritonhisjaw,rememberinghowhecradledmyfaceintheelevator.Noonehaseverheldmelikethat.IopenmyeyesandIcouldswearheshivers.Itouchhispulse.Ittouchesmeback.
Ihavemyhandsonhisthroatnow,andIrememberhowbadlyIwantedtostranglehimonce.Ispreadmyhandslightlyaroundhisneck,justtocheckthefit,andhenarrowsoneeye.
“Goahead,”hetellsme.“Doit.”
Histhroatiswaytoobigformytinyhands.Ifeelatensionshimmeringthroughhim,atighteninginhisbody.There’sasoundinhisthroat.
I’mhurtinghim.MaybeI’mstranglinghimtodeathrightnow.Colorissweepinguphisneck.Whenhepinsmewithhiseyes,Iknowsomething’scoming.Iamnotpreparedwhenithappens.
Theworldexplodesapartashebeginstolaugh.
He’sthesamepersonIstareateveryweekdaybutlitup.He’spluggedintothemainsandelectric.Humorandlightradiatefromhim,makinghiscolorsglowlikestainedglass.Brown,gold,blue,white.It’sacrimeI’veneverseenthesesmilelinesbefore.Hismouthisinaneasycurve,perfectteethandafaintdimplebracketingeachcorner
Eachlaughgustsfromhiminahusky,breathlessrush,somethinghecannolongerholdin,andit’sasaddictivetomeasthetasteofhismouthorthesmellofhisskin.HisamazinglaughissomethingIneednow.
IfI’deverthoughthewasgood-lookingbefore,inpassingornoticedinirritation,Ineverknewthefullstory.WhenJoshsmiles,heisblinding.MyheartispoundingandIfranticallycatalogthismomentinthehalf-light.It’stheonlyoneI’llget,whiledeliriouswithfever.
IfonlyIcouldholdontothismoment.Ialreadyfeelthesadnessthatwillhollowmeoutwhenitends.Iwanttotellhim,Don’tleaveyet.Myfingersmustbeflexing,becausehelaughsuntilthemattressisshakingbeneathus.Adiamondwetsparkleoflightinthecornerofhiseyeisabullettomyheart.I’llbeabletoreplaythisbeautiful,impossiblemomentinmymemorywhenI’mahundredyearsold.
“Goahead,killme,Shortcake,”hegasps,wipinghiseyewithhishand.“Youknowyouwantto.”
“Sobad,”Itellhim,likeheoncetoldme.I’vegotatighteninginmyownthroatandIcanbarelygetthewordsout.“Sobad,youhavenoidea.”
MYPAJAMASAREsoakedwithsweatwhenIjoltawakeandthereisathirdpersoninmybedroom.AmanI’veneverseenbefore.Ibeginscreaminglikeaninjuredmonkey.
“Calmdown,”Joshsaysintomyear.Iscrambleintohislapandpressmyfaceintohiscollarbone,huffinghiscedarscentsohardIprobablysuckouthisghost.I’mabouttobetakentoascarymedicalfacility,awayfromthesafetyofmybedandthesearms.
“Don’tletthem,Josh!I’llgetbetter!”
“I’madoctor,Lucy.Howlongandwhatsymptoms?”Themanputsonsomegloves.
“Shewasn’tonehundredpercentthismorning.Highcolor,distracted,andshegotworsethroughouttheday.Visiblysweatysincelunchtime,andshedidn’teat.VomitingatfiveP.M.”
“Andthen?”Thedoctorcontinuestoselectthingsfromhiscase,liningthemontheendofmybed.Iwatchsuspiciously.
“Deliriousbyeight.Tryingtostranglemewithherbarehandsbyonethirty.Burningupclosertoonehundredfour,andnowshe’sonehundredfivepointsix.”
Isqueezemyeyesshutwhentheunfamiliarrubberhandsfeeltheglandsinmythroat.Joshrubsmyarmssoothingly.I’msittingbetweenhisthighsnow,feelinghissolidweightbehindmyshoulderblades.Myownhumanarmchair.ThedoctorpresseshisfingertipsintomyabdomenandImakecryingsounds.Mytopispeeledupafewinches.
“Whatinthehellhappenedhere?”Theybothsimultaneouslyletoutasympathetichissofbreath.
“Wehadapaintballdayatwork.Evenmybackisn’tasbadasthis.”Josh’sfingersstroketheskinandIsweatevenmore.“PoorShortcake,”hesaysinmyear.There’snosarcasm.
“Haveyoueatenoutatanyrestaurants?”
Iwrackmybrains.“Thaitakeoutfordinner.Nottoday.Yesterdaymaybe.”
Whenthemanfrownsit’ssofamiliar.“Foodpoisoningisapossibility.”
“Couldbeavirus,”Joshargues.“Thetimeframeisalittlelong.”
“Ifyou’resocapableofdiagnosingher,whyevencallme?”
Theybeginbickeringaboutmysymptoms.Tomyears,theysoundlikeguystalkingaboutsports,andthecity’scurrentvirusesaretheteams.Iwatchthemthroughslittedeyes.Ididn’tevenknowdoctorswoulddohousecalls,especiallyattwothirty-nineinthemorning.He’smidthirties,tall,darkhaired,blueeyed.He’sclearlythrownajacketoverhispajamas.
“You’regood-looking,”Itellthedoctor.Mylostfiltershouldbeasecondarydiagnosis.
“Wow,shemustreallybedelirious,”Joshsaysacridly,wrappinghisarmacrossmycollarbones.Thesqueezerendersmeimmobile.
“Funny,he’susuallycalledthegood-lookingone.”Thedoctorsaysitwrylyashesearchesinakitbagatthefootofthebed.“Oh,calmdown,Josh.”
“You’rehisBROTHER,”Isayinchildlikewonderwhentherustedcogsinmybrainclunkintoplace.“Ithoughthewasanexperimentgonewrong.”
TheylookateachotherandJosh’sbrotherlaughs.“She’ssocute.”
“She’s…”IfeelJoshshakehishead.Headjustsmealittleagainsthischest,andmyfeveredbraininterpretsitasasnuggle.
“I’mpathetic.Hetellsmeconstantly.What’syourname?”
“I’mPatrick.”
“PatrickTempleman.Holyshit.You’retheactualDr.Templeman.”
I’mstillsittinginJosh’slap,myheadinthecurveofhisneck,probablycoveringhiminsweat.ItrytostruggleoffbutI’mheldtight.
“IamindeedDr.Templeman.Oneofthem,anyway.”Theamusementfadesfromhisfaceandhecoughsandbeginstoturnaway.IcatchhissleevetotrytoseehowmuchofJoshisinhisfeatures.Hestillsobediently,buthiseyesflicktoJosh,whoistenseasabrickwallbehindme.
“Sorry,yes.Joshisbetterlooking.”There’sapausebeforebothbrotherslaugh.Patrickisn’tremotelyoffendedandJosh’sarmrelaxes.
“Canyoutellmeembarrassingthingsabouthim?”
“Whenyou’refeelingbetter,youbet.Keepherfluidsup,Josh.She’ssmallenoughthatshe’lldehydrate.”
“Iknow.”Togethertheycoaxmetoswallowasourmedicine.Iamlaidflatagainstthebedandthetwoleavetheroom,shuttingthedoor,buttheirvoicesstillreachme.
“Youwouldhavebeengoodatthis,”Patricksays,rattlinginhismedicalkit.“You’vedonealltherightthingsforher.”Joshsighsheavily.I’msurehe’sjustcrossedhisarms.
“Don’tgetdefensive.So,nexthardtopic.WereyougoingtogivemeanRSVP?Ever?”
“Iwasgoingto.”He’slying.
“Well,youcangivemeonenow.Anddon’tpretendyoudon’tknowthedate;IknowforafactMomgaveyoutheinviteinperson.Wedidn’twantittogo‘missing’liketheengagementpartyinvite.”Josh,youlittleweasel.
Patrickisthinkingthesamething.“RSVPrightnow.Mindyneedstoknow.Forsuchminordetailsascatering.Seating.”
“I’mbusyatthemoment,”Joshtries,butPatrickcutshimoff.
“Imaginehowit’lllookifyoudon’tturnup.”
JoshsaysnothingandPatrickperseveres.“Iknowit’sgoingtobehard.”
“Youexpectmetowalkintherelikenothinghappened?”
Patrickisconfused.“Butyou’dbringLucy,wouldn’tyou?”
Iponderthisinthedark.WhyonearthwoulditbehardforJoshuatoattendhisownbrother’swedding?
“She’snotmygirlfriend.Weworktogether.”Joshsoundsirritated.Iwishthatdidn’tgivemesuchapunchinthegut,butitdoes.
“Youcouldhavefooledme.”
“Yeah,well,she’smoreonthemarketforaniceguy.Aren’ttheyall.”
There’saloadedsilence.“HowmanymoretimesdoIhavetosay—”
“Nomoretimes.”Joshisthekingofshuttingdownaconversation.There’smoresilence.Icanalmosthearthembothlookingatmybedroomdoor.
Patrick’svoiceislowerednowandIcan’thearanythingexcepthuffyarguing.Hatingmyselfdesperately,Iclimbsilentlyoutofbed,carefultokeepmyfeetintheshadows.I’madisgustinglittlesnoop.
“I’maskingyoutocometomyweddingandmakeyourmotherhappy.Makemehappy.Mindyisstressedashellthinkingthere’ssomesortoffamilyfeudhappening.”
Joshsighs,heavyanddefeated.“Fine.”
“So,that’sayes?Yes,please,Patrick,I’dlovetocometoyourwedding?Iacceptyourgraciousinvitation?”
“Yes.That.”
“I’llmarkyoudownwithaplusone.Ifshesurvivesthenight.”
IgripthewallinhorroruntilIhearJoshsaysarcastically,“Ha-ha.”
IT’SNOWSOMEtimebeforedawnandmyroomisiceblue.I’mproppedintoasittingposition,gulpingmessilywhatIrealizeislemonade.Didhegototheconveniencestoreacrosstheroad?Thesweet-sourtasteofchildhoodnostalgiaandhomesicknessmakesmealmostchoke.
Hetakestheglassandeasesmebackdownagainstthepillowswithhisarmbehindmyshoulders.Histouchwasuncertainyesterday,butnowhesmootheshispalmsandfingertipsacrossmewithnohesitation.Helookswreckedwithtiredness.
“Josh.”
Hiseyesflickerwithsurprise.“Lucy.”
“Lucinda,”Iwhisperarchly.Heturnsawaytosmile,butIcatchhissleeve.
“Don’t.I’vealreadyseenit.”I’mnevergettingoverhissmile.
“Okay.”Icantellhe’sconfused.He’snottheonlyone.I’vebeenstaringatJoshuaforsolong,he’sbecomeacolorspectrumuntohimself.He’smydaysoftheweek.Thesquaresonmycalendar.
“White,off-whitestripes,cream,non-gender-specificyellow,disgustingmustard,baby-blue,robin’s-egg,dove-gray,navy,black.”Itickthemoffonmyfingers.
Joshisalarmed.“You’restilldelirious.”
“Nope.Thosearetheshirtcolorsyouhave.HugoBoss.Haven’tyoueverbeentoTarget?”
“Whatthehellisthedifferencebetweenwhiteandoff-white?”
“Ecru.Eggshell.They’redifferent.Therewasonesingletimeyousurprisedme.”
“Andwhenwasthat?”Heasksthequestionasindulgentlyasababysitter.Ikickmyheelintemperagainstthemattress.
Whyaren’tIdrapedinablacknegligeeatleast?Ihaveneverbeenthisunattractive.I’mwearingSLEEPYSAURUS.Ilookdown.I’mwearingaredtanktop.Holyshit.Hechangedme.
“Theelevator,”Iblurt.Iwanttoreroutethismoment,backtoatimeIwashalfwayattractive.“Yousurprisedmethen.”
Helooksatmecarefully.“Whatdidyouthink?”
“Ithoughtyouweretryingtohurtme.”
“Oh,great.”Hesitsback,embarrassed.“Clearlymytechniqueisalittlerusty.”
Isnatchhissleevewithsuperhumanstrengthandsitupalittle.“ButthenIrealizedwhatyouweredoing.Kissing.Ofcourse.Ihaven’tkissedinages.”
Hefrowns.“Oh,really.”Hestaresdownatme.
Ielaboratesoforcefullymyvoiceshakes.“Itwashot.”
“IneverheardfromHRorthecops,so…”Hetrailsoff,lookingatmylips.I’mtwistingmyhandsintohisT-shirt.Itstretchesaroundmyfists.It’ssosoft,Iwanttowrapmyentirebodyinit.
“Ismybedeverythingyouimagined?”
“Iwasn’texpectingsomanybooks.Andit’salittlebiggerthanIpictured.”
“Whataboutmyapartment?”
“It’satinylittlepigsty.”He’snotbeingmeanaboutit.It’strue.
“DoyouthinkMr.BexleyandHelenemakeoutintheelevator?”Aslongashekeepsansweringmyquestions,I’llkeepaskingthem.
“Guaranteed.I’msuretheyhavevicioushate-sexaftereachquarterlyreview.”HiseyesaretippingintoblackandheunravelshisT-shirtfrommyhandsasIcatchaglimpseofhalfaninchofstomach—hardandhair.NowI’msweatingmore.
“Ibetwhenyoushower,waterpoolsrightup…here.”Iputmyfingerintohiscollarbone.“I’mthirsty.I’lldehydrate.”Heletsoutabreathanditblowsrightthroughme.
“Let’sbejustlikethemwhenwegrowup,Josh.Wecouldstartanewgame.Imagine.Wecouldplaygamesforever.”
“Let’stalkaboutitwhenyou’renotcrazywithfever.”
“Yeah,right.WhenI’mnotsickyou’llhatemeagain,butfornowwe’regood.”Itakehishandandputitonmyforeheadtohidemysuddendespair.
“Iwon’t,”hetellsme.Hesmootheshishandaway,overmyhair.
“Youhatemesomuch,andIcan’ttakeitmuchlonger.”I’mpathetic.Ihearitinmyvoice.
“Shortcake.”
“StopcallingmeShortcake.”Itrytorollontomysidebuthepressestheheelsofhispalmslightlyagainstmyshoulders.Istopbreathing.
“Watchingyoupretendtohatethatnicknameisthebestpartofmyday.”
WhenIdon’treply,healmostsmilesandreleasesme.“It’stimetotellmeaboutthestrawberryfarm.”
It’sasorepoint—andit’salsonotthefirsttimehe’sasked.Imightbeabouttogivehimfoddertoteasemewithforalongtime.
“Why?”
“I’vealwayswantedtoknow.Tellmeeverythingaboutstrawberries.”Hissoft,cajolingwhisperwillbethedeathofme.
InmymindI’malmostbackthere,underthebigcanvasumbrellawiththetorncorner,talkingtotouristswhiletheirkidsrunonahead,bucketsclanking.Thealienhumofcicadasfilltheair.There’sneversilence.
“Well.Alpinesarealsocalled‘Mignonette,’andtheygrowwildinFranceonthehillsidesandthey’reasbigasyourthumbnail.Theyhaveamazingflavorintensityfortheirsize.”
“Tellmeanother.”
Iopenmyeyestoslits.“Strawberriesarenotajoke.I’vegottenshitfromalmosteveryoneI’veevermetaboutit.”
“It’ssuchacutethingaboutyou.”
ThewordcutelightsuplikeneoninmydimbedroomandI’msorattledIbeginbabbling.
“Fine.Okay,Earliglows.Theygrowsoquickly.Onedayyou’rewalkingalongatsunsetnexttonothingbutgreen…thenextmorningthey’reallthere.Littleredbuds,gettingbrighter.Bydinnertimethey’redone,likeredChristmaslights.”
WhenJoshsighs,hiseyescloseforasecond.He’sexhausted.“Whichareyourfavorites?”
“RedGauntlets.TheywereintherowsclosesttothekitchenandIwastoolazytogomuchfarther.Ihadabigpinksmoothieeverymorning.”
Hesitsinsilence,andhiseyesaredefinitelynotthemanIknow.They’rewistful,lonely,andsobeautifulIhavetoclosemine.
“Iswear,Icanstillfeeltheseedsbetweenmyteeth.Chandlersaremydad’sfavorite.Hesayshepaidformycollegetuitionwiththem.”
“What’syourdadlike?He’sNigel,right?”
“Youandthatblog.Heworkedsohardtosendmetoschool.Ican’tbegintotellyou.HecriedonthebackporchthedayIleftforcollege.Hesaid…”
Itrailoff.Thesqueezeinmythroatmakesitimpossibletogoon.
“Whatdidhesay?”
Isidestep.“Ihaven’tthoughtaboutthisforsolong.Ihaven’tbeenhomeineighteenmonthsnow.ImissedChristmas,becauseHelenewentbacktoFrancetoseeherfamily,andIwantedtocoverforher.”
“Ididn’tgohomeeither.”
“Oh,yeah.Myparentsmailedmeabigcarepackage,andIateshortbreadandopenedpresentsonthefloorofmylivingroomwatchinginfomercials.Whatdidyoudo?”
“Prettymuchthesame.Whatdidhesaytoyou,then?Yourdad,onthebackporch?”He’sadogwithabone.
Ican’trelaythatentireconversation;I’llstartcrying.Imightneverstop.Mydad,hiselbowsonknees,thetearsmakingcleanlinesdownhistanned,dustyface.Iabbreviatetheconversationintoasanitizednutshell.
“Thathislosswastheworld’sgain.Andmymom,shecouldn’tstopbragging,tellingeveryoneaboutherdaughtergoingofftocollege…She’smakinganewvarietyofstrawberry,andthey’reallcalledLucies.”
“Accordingtotheblog,LucyTwelvewasquitegood.Tellmemore.”
“Idon’tunderstandyourfascinationwiththatblog.Momwasanewspaperwriter,butshehadtogiveitallup.”
“Forwhat?”
“Formydad.Shewasdoingapieceontheeffectsofsomeheavyrainonagriculture,soshewentouttoalocalorchard.Shefoundmydadinatree.Hisdreamwastoownastrawberryfarm,andhecouldn’tdoitalone.”
“Doyouthinkshemadethewrongdecision?”
“Dadalwayssays,Shepickedme.Likeanapple,rightoutofthetree.Ilovethem,butIthinkit’sasadstorysometimes.”
“Youcouldaskhersometime.Sheprobablydoesn’tregretathing.They’restilltogether,anditmeansyou’rehere.”
“DadcallsyouothernamesstartingwithJ,butneveryourrealname.”
“What?”Helooksalarmed.“You’vetoldyourdadaboutme?”
“He’smadatyouforbeingsomean.JulianandJasperandJohn.Onetime,hecalledyouJebediahandInearlypeedmyself.You’dhavetogroveltomydad,that’sforsure.”
JoshlookssodisturbedIdecidetocuthimabreakandchangethesubject.
“WhenI’mhomesickIcansmellwarmstrawberries.Whichisprettymuchallthetime.”Iwatchhimscramblingtotrytounscramblethesenonsensicalstatements.
“Didyouplayoutthereinthefields?Whenyouwereakid?”
“You’veseentheblogpicture.It’sprettyclearIdid.”Iturnmyfaceaway.Me,kneesstainedpinkfromberryjuice,tangledmaneofhair,eyesbluerthanthesky.Wildlittlefarmgirl
“Don’tbeembarrassed.”Hegentlyputshisfingertipsonmyjawandturnsmeback.“Youinyourlittleoverallshorts.Youlooklikeyou’vebeenoutsidefordays.Alldirtyandwild.Yoursmilehasn’tchanged.”
“Youneverseemysmile.”
“Ibetyouhadatreehouse.”
“Idid,actually.Ipracticallylivedupthere.”
HiseyesarebrightwithanexpressionI’veneverseen.Iclosemyeyesforasecondtorestthem.HechecksmytemperatureandwhenhishandliftsawayfrommyforeheadIcomplain.Hetouchesmyhand.
“I’veneverthoughtwhereyoucomefromisinferior.”
“Oh,sure.Ha-ha.StrawberryShortcake.”
“Ithinkwhereyoucamefrom—SkyDiamondStrawberries—isthebestplaceIcanimagine.I’vealwayswantedtogothere.I’veGooglemappeddirections.I’veevenlookeduptheflightandhirecar.”
“Doyoulikestrawberries?”Idon’tknowwhatelsetosay.
“Ilovestrawberries.Somuch,youhavenoidea.”HesoundssokindthatIfeelawaveofemotion.Ican’topenmyeyes.He’llseeIhavetearsinthem.
“Well,it’soutthere,waitingforyou.Paytheladyundertheumbrellaandtakeabucket.Mentionmeforadiscount,butyou’llgetaninterrogationonhowI’mdoing.HowI’mreallydoing.IfI’mlonely,ifI’meatingproperly.WhyIwon’ttakethetimetocomehome.”
Ithinkofthejobapplications,sidebysideinabeigefolder.Awaveofexhaustionanddizzinesshitsme.Iwanttobeasleep,thatlovelydarkplacewheretheseanxietiesandsadnesscan’tfollowme.IstarttofeellikeI’mslowlyspinning.
“WhatshouldItellher?”
“I’msoscared.It’sallgoingtoendsoon,onewayoranother.I’mhangingonbymyfingernails.Ihavenoideaiftheirinvestmentinmewilleverpayoff.AndI’msolonelysometimesIcouldcry.Ilostmybestfriend.Ispendallmytimewithahugefrighteningmanwhowantstokillme,andhe’sprobablymyonlyfriendnow,eventhoughhedoesn’twanttobe.Anditbreaksmyheart.”
Hismouthpressesonmycheek.Akiss.Amiracle.Josh’swarmbreath,fanningmycheek.Hisfingertipsslideintomypalms,andmyfingerscurlintohis
“Shortcake.No.”
I’mtwirlingthroughendlessloops,andItightenmygriponhishands.
“I’msodizzy…”Iam,butIalsoneedthisconversationtoend.
“Ineedtoaskyousomething.”Sometimelater,hisvoicecutsthroughthehazydarkness.
“It’snotfairtoasknow,butIwill.IfIcouldthinkofawaytogetusoutofthismess,wouldyouwantmetodoit?”
I’mstillholdingontohimlikehe’stheonlythingstoppingmefromfallingofftheplanet.“Likehow?”
“HoweverIcould.Wouldyouwantmeto?”Ifhewouldbemyfriendforthedaysleft,itwouldbeenough.Itwouldbewonderfulenoughtoburnawaythenegativity.
Thatsmilewouldbeenough.
“Thisisthepartofthedreamwhereyousmile,Josh.”
Hesighs,frustrated.Heholdsmestill,andasIorbitawayintosleep,Iwhisperitthroughthefogofsleep.
“OfcourseIwould.”Chapter11
Isitupcautiouslyinabedroomlitbrightbysun.Artifactsofillnessarestrewneverywhere.Towels,washcloths,myTupperwarecontainerwashedclean.Glassesandmedicationandathermometer.MySLEEPYSAURUSpajamatopishangingfromthehamper.Soistheredtank.Mypaintballclotheslieinapuddleandneedtobeburned
IsuckthethermometertoconfirmwhatIalreadyknow:Thefeverhasbroken
I’mwearingabluetanktopnow.Iclutchthemattressasvulnerabilitymakesalongoverdueappearance.IfeelmyshoulderandrealizeI’mstillwearingmybra.Ithankallavailablegods.Butstill.JoshuaTemplemanhasseenalltherestofmytorsoskin.
Ipeeroutintothelivingroom.He’sstillhere,sprawledoutonthecouch,onebig-sockedfootdanglingofftheendofthecouch.
Igrabfreshclothesandstumbleintothebathroom.Goodgracious.Mymascaradidn’twashoffproperlyinmyshowerandinsteadmelteddownmyfaceintoanAliceCooperHalloweenmask.IalsohaveAliceCooperhair,whichIcontaininabun.Ichange,washmyfaceasfastasIcan,andgarglemouthwash.AtanymomentIexpectaknockonthedoor
Thisfeelingisworsethanahangover.It’sworsethanwakingupafteranudekaraokeperformanceattheofficeChristmasparty.Isaidtoomuchlastnight.Itoldhimaboutmychildhood.HeknowshowlonelyIam.He’sseeneverythingIown.He’sgotsomuchknowledgethepowerwillfogoutofhimintoxicclouds.Ihavetogethimoutofmyapartment.
Iapproachthecouch.It’sathree-seatsofabuthecan’tremotelyfitonit.HejoltsbeforeIcangetaglimpseofhimsleeping.
“IthinkI’mgoingtobeokay.”
Mymagazinesarestacked.Therearenohighheelsunderthecoffeetable.Joshuahastidiedmyapartment.He’slyingafewfeetfrommyhugewallcabinetfilledwithSmurfs,stackedfourandfivedeep.Heturnedthelightson,andit’silluminatedproofthatI’mmental.Hestandsupandtheroomgetsalotsmaller.
“ThankyouforsacrificingyourFridaynight.Idon’tmindifyouwanttoleave.”
“Areyousure?”Heisfussilypressingthebacksofhisfingersonmyforehead,cheek,throat.Iamdefinitelyfeelingbetter,becausewhenhetouchesmythroatmynipplespinchinresponse.Icrossmyarmsovermychest.
“Yes.I’llbeokaynow.Gohomeplease.”
Helooksdownatmewiththosedarkblueeyesandthememoryofhissmileisoverlaidacrosshissolemnface.HelooksatmelikeI’mhispatient.I’mnolongerelevator-kissworthy.Nothinglikealittlevomittodestroychemistry.
“Icanstay.Ifyoucanmanagetostopfreakingout.”There’sakindofpityonhisfaceandIknowwhy.
It’snotallone-sided—I’veseenahiddenpartofhimtooduringthisendlessnightwe’vesurvived.There’spatienceandkindnessbeneathhisassholefa?ade.Humandecency.Humor.Thatsmile.
Hiseyeshaveflecksoflightintheirdepthsandhiseyelasheslookasifthey’dcurlagainstthepadofmylittlefinger.Hischeekboneswouldfitinthecurveofmypalm.Hismouth,well.It’dfitmejustabouteverywhere.
“Yourhornyeyesareback,”hetellsme,andIfeelmycheeksheat.“Youmustbefeelingbetterifyoucanlookatmelikethat.”
“I’msick.”IsayitprimlyandIhearhishuskylaughasIturnaway.HegoesintomybedroomandItakeseveralgulpsofair.
“You’realittlesickoallright.”Whenhereappearshe’sholdinghisjacket,andIrealizehe’sspenttheentirenightdressedinhispaintballclothes.Andhedoesn’tevenstink.Howisitfair?
“Ineedto…”I’mgettingfrantic.Igrabathiselbowwhenhetoesonhisshoesbythedoor.
“Yeah,yeah,I’mleaving.Youdon’tneedtopickmeupandthrowmeout.Seeyouatwork,Lucinda.”Herattlesabottleofpillsatme.
“Gobacktobed.Twomorenexttimeyouwakeup.”Hehesitatesagain,reluctancewrittenalloverhisface.“Areyousureyou’llbeokay?”Hetouchesmyforeheadagain,recheckingmytemperaturethoughsurelyitcouldn’thavechangedinthirtyseconds.
“Don’tyoudareteasemeaboutthisonMonday.”
ThewordMondayrattlesbetweenus,andhetakeshishandaway.Ithinkthat’sournewsafeword.
“I’llpretenditneverhappened,ifthat’swhatyouwant,”hetellsmestifflyandIfeelasinkinginmygut.ThelasttimeIaskedthatofhimitwasaboutthekiss;hekeptthatpromiseprettywell.
“Don’ttrytouseanythingagainstme.Thejobinterviews,Imean.”
Thelookonhisfaceprobablymeltsthepaintoffthewallbehindme.
“Knowingtheconsistencyofyourvomitwillgivemetheedge.Forfuck’ssake,Lucinda.”
Whenthedoorbangsbehindhimandsilenceexpandstofillmyapartment,IwishIhadthecouragetocallhimback.Tosaythankyou,andtoapologizeforthefactthatyes,he’srightasalways.
Iamcompletelyfreakingout.Toavoidthinkingaboutit,Isleep.
WhenIopenmyeyesagainIhaveanewperspective.It’sSaturdayeveningandthesunsetismakingthewallatthefootofmybedaglorioushoney-peachcandle-glow.Thecolorofhisskin.Mybedroomblazeswiththeforceofmyepiphany.
Istareattheceilingandadmittheastonishingtruthtomyself.
Idon’thateJoshuaTempleman.
IT’SWHITESHIRTMonday,sixthirtyA.M.I’msowashedoutIshouldcallinsick,andHeleneisn’tinanyway,butIneedtoseeJoshua.
Restassured,Ihavemicroanalyzedeverymomenthewasinmyapartment,andIknowIneedtoapologizeforthrowinghimoutlikethat.Hewasnothingbutdecentandkindtome.Wewereteeteringontheedgeoffriendship,andIruinedeverythingwithmysharpmouth.WhenIrecalleavesdroppingonJosh’sconversationwithPatrickIfeelsickwithguilt.Iwasn’tmeanttohearanyofthat.
HowdoIproperlythankacolleagueforhelpingmevomit?Mygrandma’svintageetiquettehandbookswon’thelpmewiththis.Athank-younoteorapoundcakewon’tquitecutitinthisinstance.
Istareatmyselfinthebathroommirror.Theweekend’ssickfesthasbleachedmeofcolor.Myeyesarepuffyandbloodshot.Mylipsarepaleandflaky.IlooklikeI’vebeentrappeddownamineshaft.
Mykitchenisnowasneatasapin.Hehassortedmymailintoatidypileonthecounter.IclawopenthetopenvelopewithonehandwhileIdunkaherbalteabagwiththeother.It’safriendlylittlenotetoadvisemethatmyrentisgoingup.IsquintatthenewmonthlyfigureandmyinhalationprobablyrattlestheSmurfsontheirshelves.MyrashannouncementtoquitB&Gnowfeelsinfinitelymoreterrifying.
HowcanIevenattempttofaceaninterviewpanelatadifferentcompanyandtrytoarticulatewhatmakesmesogoodatmyjob?ItrytothinkofallthethingsIdowell,butallIcanthinkofisprankingJoshua.I’mchildishandsounprofessional.
Isitdownheavilyandtrytoeatamouthfulofdrycerealfromthebox.ThenIwallowinlowspiritsandself-doubtalittlemore.
IopenanInternetbrowserandbeginclickingmywaythroughadepressinglybarrenrecruitmentwebsite.I’mrelievedtobeinterruptedbymyphonebuzzingwithDanny’scallerID.Weird.Maybehehasaflattire.
“Hello?”
“Hi.Howareyoufeeling?”Histoneiswarm.
“I’malive.Barely.”
“ItriedtocallyouafewtimesonFridaynight,butIkeptgettingJosh.Man,he’ssuchanasshole!”
“Hehelpedmeout.”IhearhowstiffmyvoiceisandrealizeI’mbeginningtoprickleindefensiveness.Whatthehellishappening?
HeheldmewhileIthrewup.Andcalledhisbrotherinthemiddleofthenight.Hewashedmydishes.AndI’mprettysurehewatchedmesleep.
“Oh.Sorry,Ithoughtwehatedhim.Areyougoingtoworktoday?”
“Yeah,I’llgo.”
“I’mdownstairsinthelobbyifyou,um,wantmetodriveyou.”
“Really?Isn’ttodayyourfirstdayoffreedom?”
“Well,yeah.ButMitchell’swrittenmealetterofrecommendationandIneedtopickitup.It’snotroubletogiveyouaride.”
“I’llbedowninfive.”Ichecktomakesuremygraywooldressiszippedup.Puttinglipstickonmyhaggardfacewouldlookridiculous.
“Hi,”DannycallswhenIstepoutoftheelevator.He’sholdingabunchofwhitedaisies.Myemotionsbalanceonatightropebetweendelightedandembarrassed.
Itseemshe’sonthetightroperightnexttome.I’dhavetobeblindtonotseethesplit-secondpopofcrestfallensurpriseinhiseyes.AssweatyandgrossasIwasonFriday,Istilllookedbetterthanthis.
Heblinksawayhisreactionandoffersmetheflowers.“Areyousureyoushouldn’tstayhome?”
“IlookworsethanIfeel.ShouldI…”Igestureattheelevator.Itakeanotherlookathim.He’swearingaMatchboxTwentyconcertT-shirt,andthesunglassesonthetopofhisheadhaveuglywhiteframes.Westandawkwardlyandstareateachother.
“Youcouldalwaysputthemonyourdeskatwork.”
“Okay,Iwill.”ItseemslikeabadideabutI’mallflustered.IfItaketheflowersupstairs,I’llhavetoinvitehimup.WewalkouttothepavementandIbreathemyfirstfreshairindays.
Ineedtosnapoutofit.Dannyhasbeennothingbutthoughtfulthismorning.Ishademyeyesfromthesun.MaybeIcantrybeingthoughtfultoo.Maybetheconveniencestoresellsolivebranches?
“Ineedtograbsomething.I’llberightback.”
AsIpayforJoshua’sthank-yougiftplusanoverpricedredadhesivebow,IcanseeDannyleaningpatientlyagainsthiscar.Istuffthepresentintomybagandscurrybackacrossthestreet.
HeopensthedoortohisredSUVandhelpsmein.Iwatchhimroundthehood.Incasualclothes,helooksyounger.Slimmer.Paler.Ashestrapshimselfinandstartsthecar,IrealizeIhaven’tproperlythankedhimfortheredroses.Iamagirlwithnomannerswhatsoever.
“Ilovedtheroses.”Ilookatthelittlebouquetonmylap.
“Thedaisies?”Hepullsintotraffic.
“Yes,thesearedaisies.Agoodchoiceforsomeonerecoveringfromanepicvomitweekend.”
IwishIhadn’tsaidsomethingsogross,buthelaughs.
“So.JoshTempleman.What’shisdeal?”
“Thedevilsenthisonlysontoearth.”Weirdly,Ifeelguilty.
“He’sgotabig-brotherprotectivevibegoingon.”DannyisfishingandIknowit.
Iamnoncommittal.“Hedoes?”
“Oh,yeah.Butdon’tworry.I’lltellhimmyintentionsarehonorable.”Hethrowsmeasidewaysgrinbutasenseofdeepdisappointmentisstartingtoechothroughme.Thesparkylittleflirtatiousfeelinginmychesthasdied.
AmIlikealittlesistertoJoshua?It’snotthefirsttimeaguyhassaidthattome.Ancientembarrassmentsechothroughme.He’dkissedmeintheelevator;thatgoesagainstthistheory.Buthe’dnevertriedagain,somaybeit’strue.Iremembertellinghimhowhottheelevatorkisswasandwince.
“Hedidn’ttellmeyou’dtriedtocall.Thanksforcheckingonme.”
“Ididn’tthinkhe’dpassonmymessages.Butitdoesn’tmatter.I’dliketotakeyououtagain.Dinnerthistime.Youlooklikeyouneedagoodmeal.”
Ihavetoappreciatehisperseveranceinthefaceofmyweirdnessandpresentappearance.JustbecauseIhavedevelopedafascinationwithJoshua,doesn’tmeanIshouldsayno.IlookatDanny.IfI’dthrownatorn-upwishlistintoafireplace,he’stheguyMaryPoppinswouldhavedelivered.“Dinnersometimewouldbenice.”
Heparksinatwenty-minutezoneandIsignhiminasavisitor.AstheelevatordoorsopenIrealizetoolatehehasdeliveredmeallthewaytothetenthfloor.
“Thanks.”
Hestepsoutwithmeandtugsmetoahalt.“Takeiteasytoday.”
Hestraightensthecollarofmycoat,hisknucklesbrushingmythroat.Iresisttheurgetolooktomyleft.EitherJoshuaisathisdesk,witnessingthistableau,orhe’snotinyet.Thetensionofnotknowingisexcruciating.
“Dinner?Whataboutalittledinnertonight?Couldn’thurt?”
“Sure,”Iagreejusttogethimtoleave.Hegivesmethedaisieswithalittleflourish,andImanageasmile.Islowlypivot.
Onceuponatime,thismomentwouldhavebeenatriumph.I’vehaddaydreamslikethis.ButwhenIseeJoshuasittingathisdesk,sharplytappingpaperworkintostraightstacks,IwishIcouldrewindtime.
We’replayinganewgame.WhileIdon’tknowtherules,IdoknowI’vemadeamajormisstep.Ilaythedaisiesontheendofmydesk,andshrugoutofmycoat.
“Hi,buddy,”DannysaystoJosh,whoslouchesdownintohischair.It’saboss-typepowerposehehasperfected
“Youdon’tworkhereanymore.”Joshisn’toneforpleasantries.
“IgaveLucyarideinandthoughtI’dcomebyandmakesureI’mnottreadingonyourtoes.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Josh’seyesgrowknife-sharp.
“Well,Iknowyou’reprettyprotectiveofLucy.ButI’vebeentreatingyouright,haven’tI?”
I’mflounderingundertheircollectivegaze.“Sure,ofcourse.”
ForaguyfacingoffagainstsomeoneJoshua’ssize,Dannycertainlydoeshavearemarkableamountofcourage.Hetriesagain.
“Imean,you’veclearlygotsomekindofproblem.YouwerearealassholeonthephoneonFriday.”
“She’dgotvomitonhertanktop.Ihadenoughtodealwithwithoutbeinghersecretary.”
“Yourprotectivebig-brotherthingissomethingweneedtotalkabout.”
“Voicesdown,”Ihiss.Mr.Bexley’sdoorisopen.
“Well,nooneisgoodenoughformykidsister.”Joshua’svoiceisheavywithsarcasm,butIstilldeflate.Thismorningistheabsoluteworst.
“Andyou’reright.Idon’tworkhereanymore,soI’mfreetodateLucyifIwant.”Dannylookspastmeatmydeskandraiseshiseyebrows.“Well,well.Whatdoyouknow.Romanceisn’tdead.”
Joshuascowlsdarklyandpicksathisthumbnail.“GetoutbeforeIthrowyouout.”
Dannykissesmycheek,andIamalmostcertainhediditbecauseofouraudience.Itwasapettymoveonhispart.
“I’llcallyoulatertodayaboutdinner,Luce.Andwe’llprobablyneedtotalkmore,Josh.”
“Bye,man,”Joshuasaysinafakevoice.WebothwatchDannygetintheelevator.
Mr.Bexleymakesabull-calfbellowfromhisofficeandIfinallynoticetheredroseonmykeyboard.
“Oh.”I’macompleteanduttermoron.
“ItwastherewhenIgotin.”I’vemorethanathousandhoursinthesameroomasJoshuaandthelieinhisvoiceiscrystalclear.Thisroseisvelvet-redperfection.Incomparison,thedaisieslooklikeatangleofweedsgrowinginasewer.
“Theywerefromyou?Whydidn’tyousayso?”
Mr.Bexleybellowsagain,moreannoyed.Joshcontinuestoignorehimandimpalesmewithhisglare.“YoushouldhavehadDannystaywithyou.Notme.”
“He’s…We’rejust…It’s…Idon’tknow.He’snice.”Olympic-levelfloundering.
“Yeah,yeah.Nice.Theultimatequalityinaman.”
“It’srightupthere.Youwerenicetomeontheweekend.Youwerenicetosendmeroses.Butyou’rebacktobeingatotalfuckwit.”Iamhissinglikeagoosebythispoint.
“DoctorJosh,”Mr.Bexleyinterruptsfromhisdoorway.“Myoffice,ifyoucanpossiblysparemeamoment.Andmindyourlanguage,MissHutton.”Hehuffsoff.
“Sorry,boss,I’llberightthere,”Joshuasaysthroughgrittedteeth.We’rebothblazinglyfrustratedandmeresecondsawayfrommutuallystranglingeachother.Hesweepspastmydeskandwhipsawaytherose.
“Whatiswrongwithyou!”Imakeagrabforitandathorndragsacrossmypalm.
“Ionlysentyouthosefuckingrosesbecauseyoulookedsocut-upafterourfight.ThisiswhyIdon’tdonicethingsforpeople.”
“Ow!”Ilookatmypalm.Astingingredlineisforming.I’mholdingdropsofblood.“Youscratchedme!”
Icatchhimbythecuffandsqueezehiswristinadeathgrip.
“Thankyou,NurseJoshua,youwerewonderfullykind.Andthankyourgorgeousdoctorbrother.”
Herememberssomething.“IhaveyoutoblameforthefactInowhavetogotohiswedding.I’dnearlygottenoutofit.That’syourfault.”
“Myfault?”
“Ifyouhadn’tbeensick,IwouldneverhaveseenPatrick.”
“Thatmakesnosense.Ineveraskedyoutocallhim.”
HeexaminesthelineofbloodI’veleftonhiscuffwithalookofcompleteandutterrevulsion.Hestuffsatissueintomypalm.
“Justwonderful,”hetellsme,tossingtheruinedroseinthetrash.“Disinfectthat.”HedisappearsintoMr.Bexley’soffice.
IopenmyinboxandseeourinterviewshavebeenscheduledfornextThursday.Mystomachmakesalittleheave.Ithinkofmyrent.Ilookattheemptydeskoppositeme.
IthenliftupmymousepadwhereIhavehiddenthelittleflorist’scardfromthebunchofroses.I’dpeekedatitlastweekwheneverJoshuawasn’tlooking.
IstareatthecardandwonderhowIcouldhaveeverthoughtitwasfromDanny.It’sJosh’shandwriting;butIdidn’tnoticethewaythelettersslashedandswooped.
You’realwaysbeautiful.
There’soneredpetalonmydeskandIpressitontothepadofmythumbandbreatheitindeepwhilethedaisiesbluratthecornerofmyeye.Mypalmstingsanditches.Joshisabsolutelyright.I’vesomehowinjuredmyselfduetomyowncarelessness.
IsitandbreatheinthescentofrosesandstrawberriesuntilIcantrustmyselfnottocry.Chapter12
IfeelchildishasIlookathisrolled-upwhitecuffs,oneofwhichnowcontainsmyDNA.He’sgloweringathiscomputerscreenandhasnotspokenawordtomeinhours.I’veroyallyfuckedup.
“I’lldrycleanyourshirt,”Ioffer,buthedoesn’tacknowledgeme.“I’llbuyyouanewone.I’msosorry,Josh—”
Hecutsmeoff.“Didyouthinkit’dallbedifferenttoday?”
Ifeelalumpbegintosqueezeinmythroat.“I’dhopedso.Don’tbemad.”
“I’mnotmad.”Hisneckisredagainsthiswhitecollar.
“I’mtryingtotellyouI’msorry.AndIwantedtosaythankyou,foreverythingyoudidforme.”
“Andarethoseprettydaisiesforme,then?”
Iremember.Thismightfixeverything.“Wait,Ididgetyouapresent.”
Ipullthelittleplasticcubetoppedwiththeredbowfrommypurse.IpresentittohimlikeaboxedRolex.Hiseyessparkwithanunidentifiedemotionbeforehereassumeshisfrown.
“Strawberries.”
“Yousaidhowmuchyoulovethem.”Thewordlovehasprobablyneverbeensaidinthisoffice,anditgivesmyvoiceaweirdlittletremor.Helooksatmesharply.
“I’msurprisedyourememberanythingatall.”Heputsthestrawberriesintohisout-trayandlogsbackontohiscomputer.
AfterseveralmoreminutesofsilenceItryagain.
“HowcanIpayyoubackfor…everything?”Thebalancehasshifteddramaticallybetweenus.I’minhisdebtnow.Iowehim.
“TellmewhatIcando.Iwilldoanything.”
WhatIwanttosayis,Speaktome.Engagewithme.Ican’tfixanythingifyouignoreme.
Iwatchhimcontinuetotype,hisfaceexpressionlessasacrashtestdummy.Stacksofsalesfiguresaretohisrightandheslashesagreenhighlighteracrossthem.Meanwhile,IamatcompletelooseendswithnoHelene.
“I’llcleanyourapartmentforyou.I’llbeyourslavefortheday.I’ll…bakeyouacake.”
It’slikeasoundproofpanehasdroppedinbetweenus.OrmaybeI’vebeenerased.Ishouldlethimdohisworkinsilence,butIcan’tstoptalking.Hecan’thearmeanyway,soitwon’tmatterifIsaythisnextthingoutloud
“I’llgowithyoutothewedding.”
“Bequiet,Lucinda.”Sohecanhearme.
“I’llbeyourdesignateddriver.Youcangetdrunk.Youcangetsodrunkandyou’llhavethebesttime.I’llbeyourchauffeur.”
Hepicksuphiscalculatorandbeginstotap.Ipersevere.
“I’lldriveyouhomeandputyoutobed,likeyoudidforme.YoucanvomitintoTupperwareandI’llrinseit.Thenwe’llbeeven.”
Herestshisfingertipsonhiskeyboardandcloseshiseyes.Heseemstoberecitingastringofobscenitiesinhismind.“Youdon’tevenknowwheretheweddingis.”
“Unlessit’sinNorthKorea,I’llgo.Whenisit?”
“ThisSaturday.”
“I’mfree.It’ssettled.GivemeyouraddressandI’llpickyouupandeverything.Namethetime.”
“PrettypresumptuousofyoutoassumeIwon’thaveadate.”
InearlyopenmymouthtoretortthatIknowforafactI’mhisplus-one.Justintime,mycellphonerings.Danny.Iswivelmychairafullonehundredeightydegrees.Hasn’theeverheardoftexting?
“Hi,Lucy.Feelinganybetter?Arewestillonfordinner?”
Idropmyvoicetoawhisper.“I’mnotsure.IhavetogopickupmycarandI’vebeenfeelingprettyshitty.”
“I’veheardsomuchaboutthiscarofyours.”
“Ithinkit’ssilver…that’sasmuchasIcanrememberofit.”
“I’vebookedatableforseventonight.BonitoBrothers.Yousaidyoulikeit?”
There’snotmuchchoiceleftthen.It’shardtogetareservationthere.Itrynottosigh.
“BonitoBrothersisgood.Thanks.Iwon’thaveahugeappetitebutI’lldomybest.I’llmeetyouthere.”
“Seeyoutonight.”
Ihangupandsitfacingthewallforabit.
“DannyFletcherhasaclichédeveninginstoreforyou.Italianrestaurant,checkeredtablecloth.Probablyacandle.He’llpushthelastmeatballtoyouwithhisnose.Seconddate,right?”
“Let’schangethesubject.”Ipretendtostarttyping.Myscreenfillswitherrormessages.
“Mostguyswouldtryforakissontheseconddate.”
Thatstopsmeinmytracks,andthelookinmyeyeisprobablycrazy.TheideaofJoshuamakinganeffortonaseconddateisinconceivable.Joshuaonadate,period.
IimagineJosh,seatedacrossfromabeautifulwoman,laughingandsmiling.Thesamesmileheoncegaveme.Hiseyeslitup,anticipatingagood-nightkiss.I’vegotadarkballofpressureburninginmychest.Itrytoclearmythroatbutitdoesn’twork.
I’mnottheonlyonelookingalittlecrazy.“Justsayit.Youlooklikeyou’reabouttoexplode.”
“Doyourselfafavorandstayhometonight.Youlookterrible.”
“Thankyou,DoctorJosh.WhydoesFatLittleDickcallyouthat,anyway?”
“Becausemyparentsandbrotheraredoctors.It’shiswayofremindingmeI’vefailedtoreachmypotential.”HistoneindicatesIamthetownsimpleton,andhegetstohisfeet.Itrailafterhimdownthehalltowardthecopyroom.Hedoesn’tslowsoIgrabhimbythearm.
“Waitaminute.I’mtryingtofixthis.You’reright,youknow.Ididcomeinheretodayhopingtheselastdaystogethermightbedifferent.”
Heopenshismouth,butIsteamrollahead.He’slettingmeholdhimagainstthewall,butwebothknowhecouldpickmeuplikeachesspieceifhewantedto.
SomeheeledshoesarecloppingtowardussedatelyasaClydesdaleandmyfrustrationmounts.Ineedtoclearthisup,now,orIamgoingtohaveananeurism
Thecleaner’sclosetwillhavetodo.It’sthankfullyunlocked,andIwalkinandstandamongthechemicalsandvacuumcleaners.
“Getinhere.”
HeobeysreluctantlyandIpullthedoorshutandleanonit.Weremainsilentastheheelsroundthecornerandcontinuepast.
“Thisiscozy.”Joshkickshistoeagainstabulkquantityoftoiletpaper.“Well?What?”
“I’vescrewedup.IknowIhave.”
“There’snothingtoscrewup.You’vepissedmeoff.Thestatusquoismaintained.”
Heleansanelbowonashelftodraghishandtiredlythroughhishair,andhisshirtslidesupaninchorsooutofhistrouserwaistband.We’resocloseIcanhearthefabricstretchandslideoverhisskin.
“Ithoughtmaybethewarmightbeover.Ithoughtwemightbefriends.”
Hiseyesflashwithdisgust,soImightaswellputitalloutthere.“Josh,Iwanttobefriendswithyou.Orsomething.Ihavenoideawhy,becauseyou’reawful.”
Heholdsupafinger.“There’saninterestingcoupleofwordsinamongwhatyoujustsaid.”
“Isayalotofinterestingwords.Andyouneverhearanyofthem.”Iballmyhandsuntiltheknucklescrack,andtherealizationhitsmeacrossthehead.
Thereasonformyrisingdistressisthis:Iwillneverseehishiddensoftnessagain.Ithinkofhishandsbracedoneithersideofmypillow,talkingmethroughthefever.Hishandspassingeasilyovermyskin.
Rightnowhelookslikehe’dburnmeatthestake.Hewasmyfriendonce,foronedeliriousnight,andit’sallI’lleverget.
“Orsomething,”heuseshisfingerstoaddquotations.“Yousaidyouwantedtobefriends,orsomething.Whatexactlydoesorsomethingentail?Iwanttoknowmyoptions.”
“Itprobablyentailsnotcompletelyhatingeachother.Idon’tknow.”ItrytositonastackofboxesandtheycrushunderneathmesoIstandbackup
“So,whatishe,yourboyfriend?”Hehashandsonhipsandthesmallroomshrinkstomicroscopic.
He’sclosetomenow.WhateverdivinesoapJoshuses,Ineedsome.I’llkeepabarofitinmytopdrawertoscentmylingerie.Ifeelmycheeksbeginningtoheat.
“Youcouldn’tcarelessifIdateDanny.Youcan’tbelieveanyguywouldwanttobewithme.”
Insteadofreplying,heholdsouthishand,palmup.Hisshirtsleevesarestillrolled,andIlookatthestrongtendonsandcordsinhiswrists.Inoticeforthefirsttimehehasthosemuscly-guyraisedveinsinhisinnerarms.
“TouchingatworkisagainstHRpolicy.”Mythroatisbonedry.Nottouchingmeshouldbeillegal.
HestaresexpectantlyatmeuntilIslidemyhandintohis.It’shardtoresistsomeoneholdingouthishandthisway,andit’scompletelyimpossibleifit’sJoshua.Iregistertheheatandsizeofhisfingersbeforeheturnsovermyhandtoinspectthescratchonmypalm,handlingmyhandlikeaninjureddove.
“Seriouslythough,didyoucleanthis?Rosethornscanhavefungusonthem.Thescratchcangetinfected.”Hepressesaroundthewound,fussingandfrowning.Howcanhebethesetwodifferentmen?Asecondrealizationhitsme.PerhapsIamadeterminingfactor.Theconceptisscary.TheonlywayIcangethimtodrophisguardistodropmine.MaybeIcanchangeeverything.
“Josh.”
Whenhehearsmeshortenhisname,hefoldsupmyfingersandgivesmemyhandback.It’stimetotrythis.IprayI’mnotwrong.
“IwantedyouthereonFridaynight.You,andonlyyou.Andifyoudon’twanttobefriendswithme,I’lltrytoplaytheOrSomethingGamewithyou.”
There’salongpauseandhedoesn’treact.IfI’vemisjudgedthis,Iwillneverliveitdown.Myheartispulsinguncomfortablyfast.
“Really?”Heisskeptical.
IpushhimagainstthedoorandfeelathrillwhenIhearthethudofhisweightagainstit.
“Kissme.”Iwhisperitandtheairgetswarmer.
“SotheOrSomethingGameinvolveskissing.Howinteresting,Lucinda.”Hepasseshisfingersthroughmyhair,rakingitgentlyawayfrommyface.
“Idon’tknowtherulesyet.It’saprettynewgame.”
“Areyousureaboutthat?”Helooksdowntowatchmyhandspreadoutoverhisstomach.
Ipushatthehardflesh.Itdoesn’tremotelygive.“Areyouwearingabullet-proofvest?”
“I’vegottointhisoffice.”
“Ireallyamsorryforhurtingyourfeelings,andforthrowingyououtofmyapartment.Josh.”WhenIusehisshortenedname,it’salittlepeaceoffering.It’sanapology.
Frankly,it’sapleasure.Itletsmeimaginehe’smyfriend.Myfriend,wholetsmerunmypalmsuphistorsoinacleaner’scloset.Iwishhe’drunhishandsupmine.
“Apologyaccepted.Butyoucan’texpectmetobeaniceguywhenanothermanwalksyouintotheoffice,andkissesyouandgivesyouflowers.It’snotthewaythisgameworksbetweenyouandme.”
“Ihaveneverhadthefaintestclueonhowitworks.”Iswallowheavily.Hetoucheshisfingersunderneathmychin,raisingmyfacetohis.
“Ithoughtyouweresoclever,Lucinda.Imustbewrong.”
Iriseontiptoesandwhenmyhandsslideontohisshouldersandgrip.WhenIpressmyfingernailsintohim,histhroatconstrictsinaswallowandImanagetolandoneglancing,openmouthedkissacrossit.Icanfeeltheeffectithas;hishandsflex,hishipstilttowardme.Somethingheavypressesintomystomach.
ThisisthebestgameI’veeverplayedinmyentirelife.
HishandsettlesonmylowerbackandIarchagainsthimandmanagetogetonehandonthenapeofhisneck.
“Isthereanyreasonwe’renotkissingyet?”
“Theheightdifference,mainly.”He’stryingtoconcealthefacthe’sgotanerectionhardenoughtodentatincan.It’sanimpossibletask.Ismileandtrytotughimdowntomymouth.
“Well,don’tmakemeclimbupthere.”
Hismouthbelongsonmine,buthedoesn’tmovedownfarther.Hisfacetightenswithindecisionandrestrainedlust.Iimaginehe’smullingovertheworkimplications.
“We’rebarelyworkingtogetherforanothertwoweeks.Sowhatdoesitmatter?”Icongratulatemyselfonmycasualtone.
“Whataromanticproposition.”Histongueemergesandlicksthecornerofhismouth.Hewantsto.It’sobvioushedoes.Butyethestillresists.
“Putyourhandsonme.”
Insteadofgrabbingme,heputsouthishands,offeringthemtomelikeIjustdidtohim.Thenhejuststandsthere.Hischestrisesandfalls.
“Putthemonyourself.”
NothingevergoesthewayIexpectitwill.Itakeoneofhishandsandlayitonmyside.Theother,Idecidetoslidearoundtomybutt.Bothsqueezeme,buttheydon’tmove.Basically,I’mfeelingmyselfup,hardlyaidedbyhimatall.
“IsthistogetaroundtheHRrules?NomoreHRthreats.It’sacompletewasteofbreathatthispoint.”Sayingitwasawasteofmybreath.IneedalltheoxygenIcanget.Theheatofhishandsonmeburnsthroughmyclothes.
Ipushhishanddowntowheremybuttmeetsthigh.Hehastobenddownalotanditgetshismouthmuchcloser.Now,Ipullhisotherhandupfrommyribstothesideofmybreast.Helookslikehe’sabouttopassout.Myegoisnearlytoobigtofitinthisroom.
“Sothisiswhatsexwithyouwouldbelike.”Ican’tresistteasinghim.“Iwashopingyou’dparticipatealittlemore.”
Hefinallysayssomething.“I’dparticipate.Sowell,youwouldn’twalkstraightthenextday.”
Morefootstepspass.I’minaroomsmallerthanajailcellandJoshhashishandsonme.Tooboldformyowngood,Ilifthishandandpresshisfingertipsintomycleavage,justtoseewhathappens.
“That’sokay,walkingisoverrated.”
Whatevercontrolhehasonhimselfslipssignificantlyandhishandregainsitsautonomy.Heputsahandundermykneetoliftmyleg.Hisfingertipsstrokeupunderthehemofmydress,makingasmoothlineupmyouterthightothesideofmyunderwear.HisfingertiptouchestheelasticandIshiver.Betweenmybreasts,hisfingersdipandstroke.Thenheputsmyfootbackontheground,andbothhishandsinhispockets.
“Iwantyoutodosomethingforme.IwantyoutohaveyourcutelittledatewithDanny,andIwantyoutokisshim.”
Evenashesaysit,hismouthtwistsindistaste.Idropbackdowntomyregularheight.We’vesaidsomefuckingunbelievablethingstoeachotherrecently,butthatwascompletelyoutofleftfield.
“What?Why?”Idropmyhandsfromhisshoulders.
Thesinkingfeelinghasstarted.He’sbeenmessingwithmeallalong.Heseesthealarminmyeyesandhaltsmyretreatwithahandonmyelbow.
“Ifit’sbetterthanourelevatorkiss,caseclosed.Datehim.PlanaspringweddinginagazeboatSkyDiamondStrawberries.”
Ibegintoprotestbuthecutsmeoff.“Ifitisn’tasgood,youhavetoadmitittome.Tomyface.Verbally.Honestly.Withnosarcasm.”Everyloopholeisneatlyclosed.
“It’sweirdyouwantmeto.”Itakeastepbackandknockoverabroom.
“TheOrSomethingGamedoesn’tresumeuntilyoutellmethatnoonekissesyoulikeIdo.”
“CanIjusttellyounow?”Itiptoeupagainbuthewon’thaveabarofit.
“NowayamIgoingtobeyourlittleexperimentbeforeyouchooseMr.NiceGuy.Soyes,IwantyoutokissDannyFletchertonightandreportbackontheresult.Ifitgoesgreat,thengoodlucktoyou.”
“Youcertainlyarebiasedagainstniceguys.”
Headdsonemorecaveat.“Onelastthing.Ifkissinghimisn’tasgoodaskissingme,youcan’tkisshimagain.”Heopensthedoorandpushesmeout.Mr.Bexleyisclompingalongsullenly,soIpullthedoorshutquicklybehindme.Hedoesadoubletakewhenheseesmecomeoutofthejanitor’scloset.
“Iwaslookingforsomeglasscleaner.Therearefingerprintsallovertheoffice.”
“HaveyouseenJosh?He’snotanywhere.Everything’sfallingapartandhe’sgone.”
“He’sgonetogetyoucoffeeanddonuts.You’vebeensobusy.Promiseyou’llactsurprised.”
Mr.Bexleyperksup,puffs,andgrumblesallinonegutturalsound.ThenhelooksatmydressanditscontentswithsuchaleisurelyperusalIputmyhandsonmyhipsinannoyance.Hedoesn’tnotice.
“You’relookingalittleflustered,MissHutton.Idon’tmindayoungladylookingabitpinkinthecheeks.Youshouldsmilemore,though.”
“Oops,myphoneisringing,”Isay,eventhoughitisn’t.“Remember,actsurprisedwhenJoshgetsback.”
“Icanbesurprised,”hetellsmeandheadstothemen’sbathrooms.He’sgotanewspaperinonehand.Joshcantakealeisurelymeanderdownstairsnow.
IkeepmycomposureuntilIgetbacktomydesk,butthenIletmyselfdowhatI’vedesperatelyneededto:Ipantforair.IhufflikeI’verunahalfmarathon.Sweatisbeadingonthebackofmyneckandmyfaceisdewy.Myfingersareburninghotfromtouchingthecottoncoveringhisskin.IfoguphalftheshinysurfacesofthetenthfloorbeforeIamcomposedenoughtoevensit.
I’msoturnedonIwishIcouldknockmyselfunconsciousuntilitpasses.
Joshuareturnstwentyminuteslater,bearingdonutsandcoffee.HestillbeatsMr.Bexleybackfromthebathroom.
“Nicesave,”Joshuatellsme,puttingahotchocolateandastrawberrydonutbesidemymousepad.“Impressivethinkingonyourfeet.”
Istareatthegorgeouspinkdonutlikewe’vefallenthroughawormholewhilehedisappearsintohisboss’soffice.Inthespaceoftwentyminutesself-doubthasbeguntoerodemyconfidencethatIcanhandletheOrSomethingGame.He’stoobig,tooclever,andmybodylikeshimwaytoomuch.I’mdesperatetotrytolaysomekindofgroundrules.Whenhesitsathisdeskandsipshiscoffee,itallcomesoutinavulgarblurt.
“IftheOrSomethingGameinvolvessex,it’llbeaone-timedeal.Once.Onemeaninglesstimeonly.”Iclapmyhandovermymouth.
HenarrowsaneyecynicallyandbeginseatingthestrawberriesIgavehim.It’smesmerizing.Ineverseehimeatanything.
“One.”Iholduponefinger.
“Justonce?You’resure?Wouldyouatleastbuymedinnerfirst?”Heleansbackinhischair,enjoyingthisexchange.Hebites,chews,swallows,andIhavetolookawaybecausefrankly,it’ssexyashell.
“Sure,wecanhitthedrive-thruforaHappyMeal.”
“Gee,thanks.Aburgermealandtoybeforewewentanddidit.Once.”Hesipsathiscoffeeandlooksattheceiling.“Couldn’tyouatleastspringforafancyItalianrestaurant?Ordoyouwantmefeelingcheap?”
“Once.”IputseveralknucklesintomymouthandbitethemuntilithurtsShutyourmouth,Lucy.
“Canyoudefinewhatonetimewouldinvolve?”Herestshischinonhispalmandcloseshiseyes,yawning.You’dthinkweweretalkingaboutaworkpresentation,notanaked,dirtygameinmybed.
“Didyourparentsnevergiveyouthebirdsandbeestalk?”Isipmyhotchocolate.
“I’mtryingtounderstandtherulesupfront.Youmakeupanawfullotasyougoalong.Couldyouemailthemtome?”
Mr.Bexleywalksbetweenus,breakingthemoment,andmakesanunconvincingsoundofsurprisewhenheseeshiscoffeeanddonutsonhisdesk.
“I’llbein,oneminute,”Joshuacallstohim.
Tomehesays,“Once,huh?You’drestrainyourself?”Iseetheedgeofhismouthliftinalittlesmile,andhebeginstoclickonhiscomputerscreen
“Don’tlooksoself-satisfied,”IhissasquietlyasIcan.“It’snotaguaranteeit’lleverhappen.”
“Don’tactlikeit’sonlymewhowantsthis.Thisisn’tsomefavoryou’dbedoingme.It’stheprettybigfavoryou’dbedoingyourself.”
Hedoesn’tseemtobemakingasleazyreferencetowhatliesbeneathhiszipper,butIlookthereanyway.Ican’tseemtostoptalking.
“Tokilloffthisweirdsexualtensionbetweenus,thenyes,itwouldbeonlyonce.LikeIsaid,whatdoesitmatter?”
Heblinkshard,openshismouthtospeak,thenseemstoreconsider.Foraguywho’sjustbeentoldbyawomanshe’sconsideringhavingsexwithhim,helooksalittledisappointed.
“ThenIguessI’dbettermakeitcount,Shortcake.”Apromiseandawarning.IbitemydonutnearlyinhalfsoIdon’thavetoreply.
Igottheupperhand,definingthetermsalittle.Hestandsandpicksuphiscoffee.It’sasignalofretreat.Butthenheslamsthetennisballbackintomycourt,forcingthedecisionbackontomesosquarelyIhavetoadmit,I’mimpressed.
HewritessomethingonabluePost-itnote.Hisspikyblacklettersswoopandslash;inkspreadingalittleintotheveinsofpaper.
HewritesdownsomethingIneverdreamedI’deverknow.Ihavenoideaifit’sforthepurposeofpickinghimupbeforethewedding,orsomething.Ican’taskbecausemymouthissofull.
Hesticksitontomycomputerscreen.Hishomeaddress.Chapter13
Ikeephalfexpectingyourbigbrothertostorminhereanymoment,andhaulyouoff.You’reoutonaschoolnightandall,”DannysaysasIslushmyspoonhalfheartedlyinlemongelato.
“I’msurehe’sidlinghiscaroutfront,readytorunyouover.”Itonlycomesouthalflikeajoke.Thewaitresscomestocheckonus.Again,wereassureherofhowdeliciouseverythingis.Everything’sflippin’perfect.Checkedtableclothandcandles.Romanticmusicandmecleanedupnicelyinareddressandlipstick.TheonlythingkeepingmefromdozingoffisthelittlesharpnervousfeelinginmystomachwhenIthinkofthenear-inevitablekisstonight.
“Ineedtoask.Areyou…single?Available?I’mgettingavibe.Youandhearen’t…?”
“Yes,no.No!Novibe.Absolutelynovibe.I’msingle.”ThenIrepeatitacouplemoretimes.Danny’sexpressionisdoubtful.Theladydothprotestway,waytoomuch.
Asliceofpanicopensinmygut.IfanyonesuspectedmeandJoshofbeinginvolvedinanyway,there’dberepercussions.Reputation-wise.HR-wise.Dignity-wise.Iremembertheamusedlooksandnudgesatthepost-paintballmeetingandcringetothinkthehorsemayhavebolted.
“There’sbeenheapsofofficehookups.SamanthaandGlen.Phew,thatwasadisaster.”Dannygrins.He’sagossip,Icantell.Heraiseshiseyebrows,hopingI’llhavemyownjuicyscandaltoshare,butIshakemyhead.
“Noonetalkstomeatwork.TheythinkI’llsnitch.”
“IsittrueJoshcompletedfirst-yearmedicalschool?”
“Idon’tknow.Hisparentsandbrotheraredoctors,though.”
“Wealwayslivedinhopehe’dquitBexleyBooksandgobeaproctologistorwhatever.”
Ihavetolaugh.
“So,didyouhaveabadbreakupinthepastorsomething?”Dannylooksgenuinelycurious.“IguessI’mtryingtoworkoutwhyyou’resingle.”
“Ihaven’thadanytimetodateandIhaven’tputinenoughefforttomakenewfriendsafterlosingtouchwithpeoplefromGaminafterthemerger.Myjobhastakenovermylife.WorkingforaCEOisn’tyourtypicalnine-to-five.”
“So,whatwasthatroseonyourdesk?”Heraiseshiseyebrowsexpectantly
“Itwasajoke.”
HewaitsformetoelaboratebutwhenIdon’t,hegivesupandchangesthesubject.“Didyougetyourapplicationinforthenewexecposition?”
“It’sin.Interviewsarenextweek.”
“Isthereabigfield?”
“Theshortlistforinterviewsisjustme,acoupleofexternals,andmygoodbuddyJoshuaTempleman.Fourapplicantsintotal.”
“You’vebeenwaitingalongtimeforthis,”Dannysurmises.MaybeI’vegotmycrazy-intenseeyesonagain.
“Helenehasbeenbigondevelopingme.WhenwewereGaminPublishing,Iwasearmarkedtotransferintotheeditorialteamafterayearofworkingforher.”Ihearhowbittermyvoiceis.
Dannyconsiders.“It’snotuncommontogetintopublishinganywayyoucan.Evenifitmeanstakinganadminrole.Halfthepeopleheredidn’tstartoutintheirdreamjob.Itwassmarttojumponanyopeningyoucould.”
“No,that’snotmyissue.IreallyamgladI’vemovedintoabusinessrole.”
“Butthenthemergerhappened.”
“Yes.Somanypeoplelostjobs;Iwasluckytokeepmine.Evenifit’smeantstayinginthesamerole.Ilostmybestfriend.”Imakeitsoundlikeshe’sdeadnow.
“ChiefofoperationswilllookprettyimpressiveonyourCV,especiallyatyourage.”
“Yes.”Ibreathe,imaginingitinArialfont.ThenIimagineitonJoshua’sCV,andthedeliciousdaydreamturnssour.“I’mpreparingapresentationfortheinterview.It’ssomethingI’vebeenthinkingaboutforalongtime.Ihaven’tbeeninthepositiontobeasinfluentialasI’dlike.Thetiming’salwaysbeenoff.Iwanttosetupaformalprojecttogetthebacklistintoebookformat.Repackagingthewholebook,covers,theworks.IthinkgettingthisnewrolewillgivemetheleverageI’vebeenlacking.”
“Soundslikeyou’llbeneedinglotsofsupportintermsofcoverdesign.Keepmeinmind,”Dannysays.Herummagesinhispocketandgivesmehisnewbusinesscard.Aladyatthenexttablelooksathimsidewayslike,Whatadouche.
Hesignalsforthecheckandhandsoverhiscreditcard.
“Oh,thankyou,”Isqueakawkwardlyandhesmiles.
Wewalktomycar.“SorryItalkedsomuchaboutwork.”
“It’snoproblem.Iusedtoworkthere,remember.So.Thisisit.Yourcar.”Dannystops,frameshishandsaroundthecar.“It’sincredible.”
“Isn’tshe?”Ileanonthedoor.“Freeatlast,freeatlast.”
“DidyoujustquoteMartinLutherKingJr.inrelationtoyourcar?”
“Um.Yes,IguessIdid…”
Heburstsoutlaughing.“Man,you’reawesome.”
“I’manidiot.”
“Don’tsaythat.I’dliketokissyou.Please,”headdscourteously.
“Okay.”Welockeyes.Webothknowthisisit.Themomentoftruth.EitherDannyblowsmymind,orIhavetopumpupJosh’sego.
WelooklikeaprettylittleValentine’scard.Theroadisslickedwithrain;astreetlightringsusinwhite.Myredpartydressisthefocalpoint,andamanwiththeangelicwhite-blondcurlsisbendingmebackalittle,hispaleblueeyesdroppingtolookatmymouth.Hisheightmeansweclinchtogetherperfectly.
Hisbreathislightandsweetfromhisdessert,andhishandsspreadrespectfullyatmywaist.Whenhislipstouchmine,Iimploremyselftofeelsomething.Iwishoneverysingleshootingstaroverhead.Iprayforthefirstdizzyingkickoflust.IkissDannyFletcheragainandagainuntilIrealizelustisnevercoming.
Hismouthtipsmineopenalittle,althoughhekeepshistongueinhismouthlikethegentlemanheis.Iputmyhandonhisshoulder.Hisframe,whichlookedsofitandmuscularatfirstglance,feelsaslightandinsubstantialaschickenbones.Ibethecouldn’tevenliftmeofftheground.
Webothpullback.
“Well.”MyhopesareabsolutelydashedandIthinkheknowsit.Hestudiesmyface.Itwaslikekissingacousin.Allwrong.Iwanttodoitagain,tobesure,andwhenImoveforwardhetakesahalfstepbackanddropshishandsfromme.
“Ienjoyspendingtimewithyou,”hebegins.“You’reagreatgirl.”
Ifinishhissentenceforhim.“Canwejustbefriends,though?I’msorry.”
Hisfaceshowsdisappointmentthathedidn’tgettosayitfirst,reliefandalittlesliceofirritationthatmakesmelikehimless.
“Sure.Ofcourse.We’refriends.”
Itakemycarkeyout.“Well,thanksfordinner.Goodnight.”
Iwatchhimwalkaway,hishandraisedinfarewell.Heflipshiscarkeysintohispalm,hisstridealittleslow.Anexpensivemealexchangedforabadkiss.
Well,youwintheKissCompetition,JoshuaTempleman.Iwasafraidyouwould.
Atinythundercloudisbrewinginsideme.Thiswasalimp,dull,wasteofanevening.
Buttheworstpart?IfJoshuadidnotexist,itwouldhavebeenafinedatebymystandards.Perfectlyagreeable.I’vehadworsedatesandfarworsekisses.Eventhoughthechemistrywasn’tideal,wecouldhavebuiltonit.TheonlyopportunityI’vehadinrecentmemoryanditwasruined.
ItwaslikeJoshuawassittingatathirdchairatourromanticlittletable,watching,judging.RemindingmeofallthethingsIwasmissing.WhenIlookedatDanny’smouth,Ibeggedmyselftofeelsomething.
Whenthestreetsgettoounfamiliar,IpulloverandspendcountlessminutesbattlingwithmyGPSsettings,myclumsyfingerspressingallthewrongbuttons,abluesquareofpaperbetweenmyteeth.
IcalltheGPSwomantheworstnamesIcanthinkof.Ibeghertostop.Butshedoesn’t.Likeatotalbitch,shedirectsmetoJosh’sapartmentbuilding.
I’mdefinitelynotgoingintohisbuilding.I’mnottotallypathetic.Iparkonasidestreetandlookupatthebuilding,wonderingwhichglowingsquarerepresentshim.
Josh,whyhaveyouruinedme?
Myphonebuzzes.It’sanameI’vebarelyeverseenonmyscreen.
JoshuaTempleman:Well?Suspense,etc.
IlockmycarandpullmycoattighterasIwalk.Itrytothinkofhowtoreply.I’vegotnothing,frankly.Myprideisridiculouslywounded.Ishouldhavetriedhardertonight.Convincedmyselfalittlemore.ButI’msotiredoftrying.
Icomposeareply.Itisanemoticonofasmilingpoo.Itsumseverythingup.
Idecidetomakeonefulllapofhisapartmentbuilding,prayingI’mnotabductedinthemeantime.Idon’tneedtoworrytoomuch.Therainhasclearedthestreetsofallbutthemostdedicatedofstalkers.MyredheelsecholoudlyasIcompletemyreconnaissance.
It’sstrange,walkingalong,tryingtolookatthingsthroughsomeoneelse’seyes,letaloneyourswornenemy’s.Ilookatthecracksonthepavement,andwonderifhetreadsonthesewhenhetakesawalkdowntothatlittleorganicgrocerystore.IwishIlivednearastorelikethat;maybeIwouldn’teatsomuchmacaroniandcheese.
I’vealwayssuspectedpeopleinourlivesareheretoteachusalesson.I’vebeensureJosh’spurposeistotestme.Pushme.Makemetougher.Andtoacertaindegreeit’sbeentrue.
Ipassapaneofglass,andpause,studyingmyreflection.Thisdressisascuteasabutton.I’vegotcolorbackinmycheeksandlips,mostofitcosmetic.Ithinkoftheroses.Istillcan’treconcileit.TheywerefromJoshuaTempleman.Hewalkedintoaflorist,ofhisownvolition,andwrotethreewordsonacardthatchangedthestateofplay
Hecouldhavewrittenanything.Anyofthefollowingwouldhavebeenperfect.
I’msorry.Iapologize.Imessedup.I’mahorribleasshole.Thewarisover.Isurrender.
We’refriendsnow.
Butinstead,thosethreelittlewords.You’realwaysbeautiful.ThestrangestadmissionfromthelastpersononearthI’dexpect.IletmyselfthinkthethoughtI’vebeenblockingsoadmirably.
Maybehe’sneverhatedme.Maybehe’salwayswantedme.
Anotherchirpfrommypocket.
JoshuaTempleman:Whereareyou?
Where,indeed.Neveryoumind,Templeman.I’mskulkingbehindyourbuilding,lookingatDumpsters,tryingtodecideifthat’syourregularcafeacrossthestreetorifyoueverwalkinthetinyparkwiththelittlefountain.I’mlookingatthewaythelightshinesoffthepavementandlookingateverythingwiththesebrand-neweyes.
WhereamI?I’monanotherplanet.
Anothertext.
JoshuaTempleman:Lucinda.I’mgettingannoyed.
Idon’treply.What’stheuse?Ineedtochalktonightupasanotherawkwardlifeexperience.Ilookdownthestreetandcanseemycarattheendoftheblock,waitingpatiently.Acabcruisespast,slows,andwhenIshakemyheaditspeedsoff.
Isthishowstalkingbegins?Ilookupandseeamothcirclingastreetlight.Tonight,Iunderstandthatcreaturecompletely.
OnepassalongthefrontofhisbuildingandI’mdone.I’llturnmyheadtolookatwherethemailboxesare.PerhapsImightwanttoleavehimadeaththreat.Orananonymousdirtynote,wrappedinapairofunderpantsthesizeofanavalflag.
Ilengthenmystridetopassbythefrontdoors,catchingaglimpseofthetidylobby,whenIseesomeonewalkingaheadofme.Aman,tall,beautifullyproportioned,handsinpockets,temperandagitationinhisstride.ThesamesilhouetteIsawonmyfirstdayatB&G.TheshapeIknowbetterthanmyownshadow.
Ofcourse,onthisnewplanetI’vetraveledto,thereisnoonebutJosh.
Heglancesoverhisshoulder,nodoubthearingmyinsanelyloudshoesstopintheirtracks.Thenhelooksagain.It’sadoubletakefortherecordbooks
“I’moutstalking,”Icall.Itdoesn’tcomeoutthewayI’dintended.It’snotlightheartedorfunny.Itcomesoutlikeawarning.I’monescarybitchrightnow.IholdmyhandsuptoshowI’mnotarmed.Myheartisracing.
“Metoo,”hereplies.Anothercabcruisespastlikeashark.
“Whereareyouactuallygoing?”Myvoiceringsdowntheemptystreet.
“Ijusttoldyou.I’mgoingoutstalking.”
“What,onfoot?”Icomecloserbyanothersixpaces.“Youweregoingtowalk?”
“IwasgoingtorundownthemiddleofthestreetliketheTerminator.”
Thelaughblastsoutofmelikebah.I’mbreakingoneofmyrulesbygrinningathim,butIcan’tseemtostop.
“You’reonfoot,afterall.Stilts.”Hegesturesatmysky-highshoes.
“Itgivesmeafewextrainchesofheighttolookthroughyourgarbage.”
“Findanythingofinterest?”Hestrollscloserandstopsuntilwehavemaybetenpacesbetweenus.Icanalmostpickupthescentofhisskin.
“PrettymuchwhatIwasexpecting.Vegetablescraps,coffeegrounds,adultdiapers.”
Hetipshisheadbackandlaughsatthetinystarsvisiblethroughtheclouds.Hisamazing,exhilaratinglaughisevenbetterthanIremembered.Everyatominmybodytrembleswiththeneedformore.Thespacebetweenusisvibratingwithenergy.
“Youcansmile.”It’sallIcansay.
Hissmileisworthathousandofanyoneelse’s.Ineedaphotograph.Ineedsomethingtoholdonto.IneedthisentirebizarreplanettostopspinningsoIcanfreezethismomentintime.Whatadisaster.
“WhatcanIsay?You’refunnytonight.”ItfadesoffhisfaceasItakeastepback.
“SogivingyoumyaddresswastheonlythingIneededtodotofindyououthere?MaybeIshouldhavegivenittoyouonourfirstday.”
“What,soyoucouldrunmeoverwithyourcar?”
Icreepalittlecloseruntilwemeetunderastreetlight.I’vespentovereighthourslookingathimtoday,butoutoftheofficecontext,helooksbrand-newandstrange.
Hishairisshinyanddampandthereisaglowonhischeekbones.ThecottonT-shirthe’swearingisawashed-outnavy,probablysofterthanababy’sbedsheets,andthecoldairisprobablynippinghisbareforearms.ThoseoldjeanslovehisbodyandthebuttonwinksatmelikeaRomancoin.Thelacesonhissneakersarelooseandnearlyundone.Heisanabsolutepleasuretolookat.
“Datedidn’tgosowell,”hesurmises.
Tohiscredithedoesn’tsmirk.Thosedarkblueeyeswatchmepatiently.Heletsmestandthereandtrytothinkofsomething.HowcanIgetmyselfoutofthissituation?Embarrassmentisstartingtocatchupwithmeagain,nowthatthejokingbetweenusisfadingaway
“Itwentokay.”Icheckmywatch.
“Butnotgreat,ifyou’reoutsidemybuilding.Orareyouheretoreportgoodnews?”
“Oh,shutup.Iwantedto…Idon’tknow.Seewhereyoulive.HowcouldIresist?Iwasthinkingaboutputtingadeadfishinyourmailboxoneday.YousawwhereIlive.It’sunfairanduneven.”
Hewon’tbedistracted.“Didyoukisshimlikeweagreed?”
Ilookatthestreetlight.“Yes.”
“And?”
WhileIditherheputshishandsonhishipsandlooksdownthestreet,apparentlyathiswit’send.Iwipethebackofmyhandacrossmylips.
“Thedateitselfwentfine,”Ibegin,buthestepscloseandcradlesmyjawinhishands.Thetensioniscracklinglikestatic.
“Fine.Fineandgreatandnice.Youneedsomethingmorethanfine.Tellmethetruth.”
“FineisexactlywhatIneed.Ineedsomethingnormal,andeasy.”Iseedisappointmentinhiseyes.
“That’snotwhatyouneed.Trustme.”
Itrytoturnmyfaceaway,buthewon’tallowit.Ifeelhisthumbtraceacrossmycheek.Itrytopushhimawaybutenduptugginghimcloser,hisT-shirtinmyfists.
“He’snotenoughforyou.”
“IhavenoideawhyI’mevenhere.”
“Youdoknow.”Hepressesakisstomycheekbone,andIrisetomytiptoes,shivering.“You’reheretotellmethetruth.Onceyoustopbeingalittleliar.”
He’sright,ofcourse.He’salwaysright.
“Noonecankissmelikeyoudo.”
IhavetherareprivilegeofseeingJosh’seyesflashbrightfromsomethingotherthanirritationoranger.Hestepscloserandpausestoassessme.Whateverheseesinmyowneyesseemstoreassurehim,andhewrapshisarmsaroundmeandliftsmeclearoffmyfeet.Hismouthtouchesmine.
Webothletouttwinsighsofrelief.There’snopointinlyingaboutwhyI’mhereonthewetpavementoutsidehisbuilding.
Itstartsasnothingmorethanbreathingeachother’sair,untilthepressureofourlipsbreaksintoanopen-mouthslide.Isaidearlier,Whatdoesitmatter?Unfortunatelyforme,thiskissmatters
ThemusclesinmyarmsbegintoquiverpatheticallyathisneckandheholdsmetighteruntilIcanfeelhe’sgotme.Myfingerscurlintohishair,andItugthesilkythickness.Hegroans.Ourlipssinkluxuriouslyintokisses.Slip,tug,slide.
Theenergythatusuallylashesineffectivelyinsideeachofusnowhasaconduit,formingaloopofelectricitybetweenus,cyclingthroughme,intohim.Myheartisglowinginmychestlikeabulb,flashingbrighterwitheachmovementofhislips.
Imanagetotakeabreathandourslow,sexyslideiscutintoaseriesofbroken-upkisses,likegentlebites.He’stesting,andthere’sashynesstheretoo.IfeellikeI’mbeingtoldasecret.
There’safragilityinthiskissIwouldneverhaveexpected.It’sthesameastheknowledgethatonedaythismemorywillfade.He’stryingtomakemerememberthis.It’ssobittersweetmyheartbeginstohurt.JustasmymouthopensandItrytoslidemytongue,heendsthekissonachastenote.
Wasthatalastkiss?
“Mysignaturefirst-datekiss.”HewaitsforaresponsebuthemustseefrommyfaceI’mnotcapableofhumanlanguagerightnow.
Hecontinuestoholdmeinacomfortablehug.IcrossmyanklesandlookathisfacelikeI’veneverseenthispersonbefore.Theimpactofhisbeautyisalmostfrighteningupthisclose,withthoseeyesflashingbright.Ournosesbrushtogether.Thesparksareinmymouth,desperatetoreconnectwithhis.
Ipicturehimonadatewithsomeoneelse,andapunchofjealousygetsmerightinthegut.
“Yeah,yeah.Youwin,”IsayonceIregainmybreath.“More.”
Ileanforwardbuthedoesn’ttakethehint.Asgorgeousasitwas,itwasonlyafractionofwhathe’scapableof.Ineedtheintensityoftheelevator.
Amiddle-agedcouplewalkingarminarmpassusby,breakingourlittlebubble.Thewomanlooksbackoverhershoulder,herheartinhereyes.Weclearlylookflippin’adorable.
“Mycaristhatway.”Istarttosquirmandpoint.
“Myapartmentisthatway,”hepointsupwardandcarefullyputsmeonthegroundlikeamilkbottle.
“Ican’t.”
“Tiny.Little.Chicken.”He’sgotmynumber,allright.Myturntotryoutsomescaryhonesty.
“Fine.Iadmitit.I’mscaredshitless.IfIcomeupstairs,webothknowwhatwillhappen.”
“Praytell.”
“OrSomethingwillhappen.ThatonetimeIwastalkingabout.Wewon’tmakeittotheinterviewsnextweek.We’llbothbecrippledinyourbed,withthesheetsinrags.”
HismouthliftsinwhatIthinkisgoingtobeonehellofaheart-explodingsmilesoIturnandpointmyselfinthedirectionofmycar.Iliftonefootandbegintorun.Chapter14
Noyoudon’t,”hetellsme.Hewalksintothebuildinglobbywithmeunderhisarmlikearolled-upnewspaper.Heevencheckshismailbox.
“Relax.I’mjustgoingtoletyouseemyapartment,sothatwe’reeven.”
“Ialwaysthoughtyou’dliveundergroundsomewhere,neartheearth’score,”Imanagetosayashehitsthebuttonforthefourthfloor.Watchinghisfingergivesmeflashbacks.Ilookattheredemergencybuttonandthehandrail.
Itrytodiscreetlysmellhim.IbypassdiscreetandpressmynoseagainsthisT-shirtandsuckintwobrimminglungfuls.Shamefuladdict.Ifhenoticeshedoesn’tcomment.
“UncleSatandidn’thaveanyapartmentsavailableinmypricerange.”
It’sabigelevatorandthere’snoreasonformetoremainunderhisarmlikethis.Butfourfloorsissuchashortdistance,there’shardlyanypointinremovingmyarmsfromhiswaist.He’sgothisfingertipsinmyhair.
Ispreadmyhandsslowly,oneacrosshisback,theotheracrosshisabdomen.Muscleandheatandflesh.I’mpressingmynosebackagainsthisribs,inhalingagain.
“Creep,”hesaysmildly,andwearewalkingdownthehall.HeunlocksadoorandIamteeteringinthedoorwayofJoshuaTempleman’sapartment.Hestripsoffmycoatlikeabananapeel.Ibracemyself.
Hehangsmycoatnearthedoor.“Comein,then.”
Iamnotsurewhattoexpect.Somekindofgraycementcellmaybe,devoidofpersonality,ahugeflat-screenTV,andawoodenstool.Avoodoodollwithblackhairandredlipstick.AStrawberryShortcakedollwithaknifethroughherheart.
“Where’sthedartboardwithmypictureonit?”Ileaninalittlefarther.
“It’sinthespareroom.”
It’smasculineanddark,lusciouslywarm,allthewallspaintedinchocolatesandsand.There’sazingyscentoforange.Abigsquashycouchsitscenterstageinfrontofeverymale’sprerequisitegiantflatscreen,whichhehadn’teventurnedoff.Hewasinabighurry.Istepoutofmyshoes,immediatelyshrinkingalittlemore.HedisappearsintothekitchenandIpeeraroundthecorner.
“Haveasnoop.Iknowyou’redyingto.”Hebeginstofillashinysilverkettle,settingitonthestovetop.Iletoutashakybreath.I’mnotabouttoberavished.Nooneboilswaterbeforehand,exceptmaybeintheMiddleAges
He’srightofcourse.I’mdyingtolook.It’swhyIcamehere.TheJoshuaIknowisnolongerenough.Knowledgeispower,andIcan’tgetenoughatthispoint.Asilent,exhilaratedsquealislodgedinmythroat.Thisissomuchbetterthanonlyseeingthesidewalkoutsidehisbuilding.
There’sabookcaselininganentirewall.Bythewindowthere’sanarmchairandanotherlamp,withastackofbooksilluminatedbeneathit.Evenmorebooksonthecoffeetable.I’mintenselyrelievedbythis.WhatwouldIhavedoneifheturnedouttobeabeautifulilliterate?
Ilikehislampshades.Istepintooneofthebigbottle-greencirclesoflighttheycastontheorientalrug.Ilookdownandstudythepattern;vinesofivycurvingandtwisting.Onthewallinhislivingroomisaframedpaintingofahillside,likelyItalian,maybeTuscany.It’sanoriginal,notaprint;Icanseethetinydabsmadebyapaintbrush,andthegoldframeisornate.Therearebuildingsclusteredonthehill;churchdomesandspires,andadarkeningpurple-blackskyoverhead.Afrecklingofthefaintestsilverstars.
Therearesomebusinessmagazinesonthecoffeetable.Thereisafancy,prettycushiononthecouchmadeofrowsandrowsofblueribbons.It’sallso…unexpected.Notintheleastbitminimal.It’slikearealhumanliveshere.Irealizewithajoltthathisplaceisfarlovelierthanmine.Ilookunderhiscouch.Nothing.Notevendust.
IspotalittleorigamibirdmadeofnotepaperIonceflickedathimduringameeting.Itisbalancedontheedgeofthebookshelf.Ilookathisprofileinthekitchenashearrangestwomugsonthecounterinfrontofhim.Howstrangetoimaginehimputtingmytinyfoldedscrapinhispocketandbringingithome.
OnthenextshelfdownisasingleframedphotographofJoshandPatrickposedinbetweenacouplewhoIassumearehisparents.Hisfatherisbigandhandsome,withagrimedgetohissmile,buthismotheralmostglowsoutofthepicture.She’sclearlyburstingattheseamstohavetwosuchbighandsomesons.
“Ilikeyourmother,”Itellhimasheapproaches.Helooksatthephotograph,andhislipspresstogether.Itakethehintandmoveon.
He’sgotalotofmedicaltextbooksonthebottomshelf,whichlookprettydated.There’salsoanarticulatedanatomystatueofahand,showingallofthebones.Ifoldthefingersdownuntilonlythemiddleoneremainsraised,andsmirkatmycleverness.
“Whydoyouhavethese?”
“They’refrommyotherlife.”Hedisappearsintothekitchenagain.
IhitMuteontheTVremoteandthesilencedrenchesus.Icreeppasthimintohiskitchen.It’ssparklingcleanandthedishwasherishumming.Theorangescentishisantibacterialcounterspray.InoticemyPost-itnotewiththekissonitstucktothefridgeandpointatit.
Heshrugs.“Youputsomuchhardworkintoit.Seemedashametowasteit.”
Istandthereinthelightbulbglowofhisrefrigeratorandstareateverything.There’sarainbowofcolorinhere.Stalks.Leaves.Whiskeryroots.Tofuandorganicpastasauce.
“Myfridgeisnothingbutcheeseandcondiments.”
“Iknow.”Iclosethefridgeandleanagainstit,magnetsdiggingintomyspine.Iputmyfaceupforakissbutheshakeshishead.
Alittlecrestfallen,Ilookinhiscutlerydrawerandstrokethearmofthejackethangingbythedoor.InthepocketIfindagasstationreceipt.Forty-sixdollarspaidincash.
Everythingisneat,everythinginitsplace.Nowondermyapartmentbrokehimoutinstresshives.
“MyplaceislikeaCalcuttaslumincomparisontothis.Ineedabasketformygymgeartoo.Where’sallyourjunk?Where’syourtoo-hardpile?”
“You’veconfirmedyourworstfears.I’maneatfreak.”
I’mthefreakasIspendatleasttwentyminuteslookingatpracticallyeverythingheowns.IviolatehisprivacysobadlyImakemyselffeelabitill,buthestandsthereandletsme.
It’satwo-bedroomplaceandIstandinthemiddleofwhatissetupasastudy,handsonhips.Hugecomputermonitor,somehugedumbbells.Aclosetfilledwithheavywintersportswearandasleepingbag.Morebooks.Ilooklustfullyathisfilingcabinet.Ifhewasn’thereI’dreadhiselectricitybills.
“Areyoudone?”
Ilookdownatmyhand.I’mholdinganoldmatchboxcarIfoundinoneofthenarrowdrawersofabureau.I’mclutchingitinmyhandslikeacrazyoldpickpocket.
“Notyet.”I’msoscaredIcanbarelysayit.
Joshpoints,andIwalkovertotheremainingdarkeneddoorway.HesnapsonthelightswitchnearmyearandImakeastrangledgaspofdelight.
Hisroomispaintedtheblueofmyfavoriteshirtofhis.Robin’s-eggblue.Paleturquoisemixedwithmilk.Ifeelastrangeunfurlinginmychest,likeasenseofdeepdéjàvu.LikeI’vebeenherebefore,andIwillbeagain.Ihugthedoorframe.
“Isthisyourfavoritecolor?”
“Yes.”There’stensioninhistone.Maybehe’sbeenteasedbefore.
“Iloveit.”Isoundreverent.It’ssuchanunexpectedpopofbrightagainstthedarkchocolatesandtaupes,andIthinkhowJoshitis.Somethingunexpected.Paleprettyblue.Thedarkbrownheadboard,plushlyupholsteredinleather,savestheroomfromfemininity.He’sbehindme,closeenoughtoleanagainst,butIresist.Thescentofhisskinisfoggingmybrain.Hisbedismadeandthelineniswhite,andIseemtofindthatlittledetailprettysexy.Hisbathroomispolishedtoahighshine.Redtowelsandaredtoothbrush.ItlookslikeanIkeacatalog.
“Iwouldneverhavepickedyouassomeonewhoownsafern.Ihadonebutitwentbrownandcrunchy.”
IgobacktoJoshuaTempleman’sbed.Itouchmyfingertotheedgeofhispillowcase.
“Okay,you’regettingbeyondweirdnow.”
Itrytorattletheheadboardbutit’ssolid.
“Stopit.Sitonthecouch.Imadeyoutea.”
Iscuttlesidewayslikeacrabintothelivingroom.“Howcouldyoustandthereandwatchmesnoop?”
Itakethefancycushionandstuffitinthesmallofmyback.HegivesmeamugandIholditlikeaweapon.
“Isnoopedthroughyourapartment.It’syourturn.”
I’mflustered,buttrytohideitwithajoke.“DidyoufindallthepicturesIhaveofyouwithyoureyesscratchedout?”
“No,Ineverdidfindyourscrapbook.Idoknowyou’vegottwenty-sixPapaSmurfs,andyoudon’tfoldyourbedsheetsproperly.”
He’sattheotherendofthecouch,headrolledgentlytotheside,loungingcomfortably.HelollsinhisofficechairalotbutI’veneverseenhisbodymakesuchstretched-out,looseshapes.Ican’tstoplookingathim.
“Sheetsaretoohard.Myarmsaren’tlongenough.”
Hesighsandshakeshishead.“It’snoexcuse.”
“Didyoulookinmyunderweardrawer?”
“Ofcoursenot.I’vegottosavesomethingfornexttime.”
“CanIlookinyoursnow?”I’mlosingmywits.ThethresholdtohisapartmentiswhereIleftmysanity.Isipthetea.Itislikenectar.
“Now,Shortcake.We’regoingtodosomethingabitunusual.”
HeunmutestheTVandtakesasipfromhismugandstartswatchinganoldrerunofERlikewedothiseverynight.Isitwithapoundingheartandtrytoconcentrate.Hey,thisisnobigdeal.I’msittingonJoshuaTempleman’scouch.
Irollmyheadtothesideandstareathimfortheentireepisode,watchingthetensesurgeryscenesandwardconflictsreflectedinhiseyes.
“AmIbotheringyou?”
“No,”herepliesabsently.“I’musedtoit.”
Wearenotnormal.TheminutestickpastandhedrinkshiscoffeeandIcontinuetostare.He’sgotashadingofstubbleIdon’tseeduringworkinghours.Mychestistightwithanxiety.MybodyandbrainareconditionedforcombatwheneverI’minhisimmediateradius.Whenhelooksover,Ijerkback.Heputshishandbetweenusonthecouch,palmup,andthenlooksbackattheTV.
It’slikehe’sputoutadishofseedandisnowsittingverystill,waitingforthecowardlylittlechickentomakeamove.Anditdoestakemeawhile.Itentativelypickuphishandandlacehisfingersintomine.Forascarymomenthedoesn’treact,butasthewarmthofhishandbeginstoglowintomypalm,hegivesmeadeep,delicioussqueeze.Helaysourjoinedhandsbackdown,picksuphismugwithhisotherhand,andnodsatthescreen.
“Iwatchmedicaldramastospitemydad.Theydrivehiminsane.Youcouldneverhavethisonintheirhouse.”
“Why?Aretheyinaccurate?”I’mgladtobeabletofocusmyattentiononsomethingotherthanthisstrangehand-relateddevelopment.
“Oh,yeah.They’recompletefiction.”
“IpreferLawandOrder.IlovewhenarestaurantworkerfindsabodyinaDumpster.”
“OradogwalkerinCentralPark.”Hegesturesatthescreenwithhiscoffee.“Thatso-calleddoctorisn’tevenwearinggloves.”Hescowlsatthescreenlikeheisoffendedtohiscore.
Theartofholdinghandsisunderratedandit’sembarrassinghowmuchthissimpleacthasmenearlybreathless.Thepadsofeachofhisfingertipsreachacrossthebacksofmyhandstomywrist.
Largemenhavealwaysintimidatedme.WhenImentallylineupmyex-boyfriends,they’veallbeendefinitelyonthejockeyendofthescale.Easiertodealwith.Moreofanevenmatch.There’sneverbeenanyoftheastoundingmasculinearchitectureI’msittingnexttonow.
Theroundedcapsofmuscleonhisshouldersbalanceonsmoothlycurvingbiceps.Hiselbowandwristjointsarelikesomethingfromahardwarestore.Howwoulditfeeltolieunderneathamanasbigasthis?Itwouldbestaggering.
JoshwatchesERandyawns,notatallsuspectingI’mtryingtoestimatehowbighisribcageislikeameat-eatingpredator.
It’spossibleoursizemismatchhasaddedafrictiontoourinteractionsduringourworkinghours.I’vealwaystriedtomakemyselfstrongerintheonlywayIcan:mymindandmymouth.Ithinkhe’sconvertedme.IthinkI’mintomusclesnow.I’vestartedtobreathealittlehard,andhelooksatme.
“What’swiththeweirdeyes?Relax.”
“Iwasthinkinghowbigyouare.”
Ilookatourjoinedhands.Hecarefullystrokesthelengthofmypalmwithhisthumb.Whenwelookateachotheragain,hiseyesarealittledarker.
“I’llfityoujustright.”
Goosebumpsscattermyskin.Ipressmythighstogetherandaccidentallymakealittlepony-snort.I’msexyashell.Ican’tresist;Ilookovermyshoulderathisbedroom.It’ssocloseitwouldtakemaybefivebigstridestobepushedbackwarddownontohismattress.Histonguecouldbeonmyskininunderthirtyseconds.
“Ifyou’regoingtofitmesowell,showme.”
“Iwill.”
Ourpalmsareslick.Thebackofmyneckfeelshotundermyhair.Ineedtobekissedagain.Thistime,I’mgoingtoslidemytongueagainsthisuntilhegroans.Untilhepressessomethinghardagainstme.Untilhetakesmeintohisbedroomandtakesoffhisclothes.
Theendcreditsofhistory’slongestepisodeofERbegintoroll.Myheartisthreateningtopoplikeaballoon.
HemutestheTVominouslyandturnshisheaduntilwe’replayingtheStaringGame.Iwatchhiseyestipintoblack,breathlessforwhateverisabouttohappen.Icanfeelapulsepointinallthesensitivepartsofmybody.Betweenmylegsisheavyandwarm.Ilookathismouth.Helooksatmine.Thenhelooksatourjoinedhands.
“Whathappensnow?”
Heslantsmealook.Thenextwordoutofhismouthislikethelashofawhip.“Strip.”
IflinchandhelaughstohimselfandturnstheTVoff.“I’mkidding.Comeon,I’llwalkyoudowntoyourcar.”
Iamgettingdangerouslyhighoffhissmiles.Thisismythirdonenow?I’mstuffingtheminmypockets.I’mcrammingthemintomymouth.
“But…”Myvoiceisplaintive.“Ithought…”
Hiseyebrowspinchtogetherinafakedisplayofincomprehension.
“Youknow…”
“It’sratherhurtfultoonlybewantedformybody.Ididn’tevengetthedatebeforehand.”Helooksdownatourhandsagain.
“FromwhatIcansee,you’vegotafabuloussetofbones.WhatelseshouldIwantyoufor?”Istartholdingandsqueezingsomeofhisarmjoints.It’stheworstseductionroutineimaginable,buthedoesn’tseemtomind.Hiselbowistoobigtofitinmyhand.MydresshelpfullyslipsdownalittlewhenIreachforhim,andhiseyestraildowntotherevealedcleavage.
Whenwemakeeyecontactagain,IrealizethatI’vesaidthewrongthing.
Heswiftlyconcealsitbyfrowning.“We’renotdoingthistonight.”
InearlysnapbackbutasIwatchhiseyelidscloseandhetakesadeepbreath,IrealizehowbadlyIdon’twantthiseveningtoend.“IfIaskyouaquestionaboutyourself,willyouanswer?”
“Willyoudothesame?”He’sregainingcomposure,likeIam.
“Sure.”Everythingwedoistitfortat.
“Okay.”HeopenshiseyesandforamomentIcan’tthinkofanythingtoaskthatwon’tberevealingtoomuchofmyselfintheprocess.
Whatdoyoureallythinkofme?Isthisallsomeelaborateplantomessmeup?HowbadlyhurtwillIbe?
Itrytosoundlight.“Let’smakeitagame,likeeverythingelsewedo.It’seasier.TruthorDare.”
“Truth.Becauseyou’redyingformetosaydare.”
“Whatarethepencilcodesinyourplanner?IsitforHR?”
Hescowls.“What’sthedare?”
Hisscentisfoggingspicilyaroundme.Theplush,warmcouchconspirestotipmeclosertohislap.
“Youevenneedtoask?”
Hestandsup,andstandsmeuptoo.MyhandscurlintothewaistbandofhisjeansandIfeelnothingbutfirmmaleagainstthebacksofmyknuckles.Mymouthisnearlywatering.
“Wecan’tstartthistonight.”Hetakesmyfingersoutofhisjeans.
“Whynot?”IthinkI’mbegging.
“I’mgoingtoneedalittlemoretime.”
“It’sonlytenthirty.”Ifollowhimtothefrontdoor.
“You’vetoldmewe’llonlydothisonce.I’mgoingtoneedalongtime.”Ifeelaflutterypinchbetweenmylegs.
“Howlong?”
“Alongtime.Days.Probablylonger.”
Mykneesknocktogether.Hiseyescrinkle.
“Let’scallinsicktomorrow.”Iaminfatigableinmyquesttogethisclothesoff.Helooksattheceilingandswallowshard.
“LikeI’mgoingtowastemyonebigchanceonagenericMondaynight.”
“Itwon’tbeawaste.”
“HowcanIexplainit?Whenwewerekids,PatrickwouldalwayseathisEastereggstraightaway.Icouldmakeminelastuntilmybirthday.”
“When’syourbirthday?”
“Junetwentieth.”
“Whatstarsignareyou?Cancer?”
“Gemini.”
“Andwhywouldn’tyoueatitstraightaway,exactly?”Wow,Isureknowhowtomakethingssoundfilthy.
Hestrokesmyhairawayfrommyshoulder.“ItmadePatricksweat.He’dgointomyroomandobsessoverit.He’daskmeeverydayifI’deatenit.Itdrovehiminsane.Itdrovemyparentsgoddamninsane.Eventhey’dbegmetoeatit.WhenIfinallydid,ittastedbetter,knowinghowbadsomeoneelsewantedit.”
Heslidestheshoulderofmyreddressahalfinchtotherightandlooksdownattheskin,beforeleaningdownandbreathingmein.IfeeltheticklingsuckofhisinhaleandfeeladeepstabofempathyfortheheavenlytorturehisEastereggssuffered.
“It’spervertedtobeturnedonbyachildhoodstoryabouttwobrothers,isn’tit?”
Hepresseshismouthtomyshoulderandlaughs.Itvibratesthroughmyentirebody.Ilookoverathisbeautifulbedroom,alllitupwiththelightstillburning.Blueandwhite,likeagorgeousTiffanybox.Agiftwitharibbon.AroomIwanttospenddaysin.AroomI’llprobablyneverwanttocomeoutof
“Didyoueatitabiteatatime,ordidyousnaponedayandgorgeonit?”
“Iguessyou’llfindout.Eventually.”
HepicksuphiskeysandstandsjinglingthemwhileIputmycoaton.Wedon’ttouchintheelevator.Hewalksmeoutsideinsilence,overtomycar.
“Bye.Thanksforthetea.”Embarrassmenthascaughtupwithme.I’veactedlikeatotalnuttonight.WhyisitIcanactlikeanormalhumanwithaguylikeDanny,butwithJoshIendupdorkingout?SomethingissharpinmyhandandIlookdown.Ohshit,I’mstillholdingthematchboxcar.
“I’mafreak.”Iputmyfaceinmyhandsandtinywheelsrollacrossmycheek.
“Yes.”Heisgentlyamused.
“Sorry.”
“Keepit,it’sapresent.”
Thefirstthinghe’severgivenmeasidefromtheroses.I’mhonoredbeyondwordsandstudyitafresh.IthastheinitialsJTscratchedontothebottom
“Isitachildhoodtreasure?Itlooksold.”Idon’tthinkI’dgiveitback,evenifhechangedhismind.
“Maybeit’sthestartofyournewcollection.Ithinkwe’vedonesomethingkindofmonumentalforus.Wehadaceasefire.ForthefulllengthofaTVepisode.”
“Yousurearegoodatholdinghands.”
“I’mprobablynotgoodatalotofthings,butIwilltrytobe,”hetellsme.It’sthestrangestthingtosayandIfeelanothercrackforminginthewallbetweenus.
“Well,thanks.I’llseeyoutomorrow.”
“Noyouwon’t.I’vegotadayoff.”Henever,evertakesadayoff.
“Doinganythingspecial?”Ilookupattheapartmentsaboveandawaveoflonelinesshitsme.
“Ihaveanappointment.”
JustwhenIthinkI’vegotahandleonthiskaleidoscopeofweirdfeelings,ittwistsandsomethingnewsurprisesme.IfeellikeI’vebeentoldChristmasiscanceled.NoJosh,sittingacrossfrommelikealways?Ihavetobitemyliptosilencemyself.
Please,Ibegmyself.PleasehateJoshagain.Thisistoohard.
“You’renotgoingtomissme,areyou?YoucanmanageonelittleTuesdayonyourown.”Hetouchesthelittletoycarinmyhandandspinsthewheelsalittle.
Itrytobenonchalant,butheprobablyseesthroughit.
“Missyou?I’llmisslookingatyourprettyface,butthat’saboutit.”
Ihopeitlandedsomewhereinthevicinityoffaintsarcasm.Ihaulmyquiveringbodyintomycar.Hetapsthewindowtomakemelockthedoor.Ittakesmeseveralattemptstogetthekeyintotheignition.
Joshstandsmotionlessinmyrearviewmirroruntilhe’saspeck,onepersonamongbillions,butIcannottearmyeyesawayuntilhedisappearsaltogether.
WhenIgethome,IstillhavetheMatchboxcarinmyhand.Chapter15
I’msittingatmydesk,eyelidsdryandtight,andI’mstaringatJosh’semptyseat.Theofficeiscold.Quiet.Aprofessionalhaven.Anyofthecubicleinmatesdownstairswouldkillforthiskindofsilence.
Joshissupposedtobesittingacrossfrommeinanoff-whitestripedshirt.Heshouldbeholdingacalculator,tapping,frowning,tappingagain.
Ifhewerehere,he’dlookatme,andwhenoureyesconnectedaflashbulbofenergywouldpopinsideme.I’dlabelitannoyance,ordislike.I’dtakethelittleflashandcallitsomethingIdon’tthinkitis.
Ilookattheclock.Iwaitforasmalleternity,andaminuteticksby.Toamusemyself,IrollmynewMatchboxcarbackandforthacrossmymousepad,thentakeoutthefloristcardfromunderneath.
You’realwaysbeautiful.
Ilookatmyreflectionintheridiculousprismofglasssurroundingme.Ilookatthewall,theceiling,analyzingmyappearancefromdifferentangles.Thosethreewordsnowaren’tenoughtosateme.He’screatedamonster.
Iturntheflorist’scardoverandnoticetheaddress.Ihavethebestideaandcackleoutloud.Grabbingmypurse,Iwalkdowntothecornertotheexactsameflorist.BeforeIlosemynerve,Iarrangetohaveabunchofoff-whiterosessenttohimwithacard.IbarelyknowwhatI’mgoingtowrite,untilmyhandwritesoutthefollowingforme:
Iwantyouformorethanyourbody.IwantyouforyourMatchboxcars.—Shortcake
InstantlyIhaveawaveofself-doubt,butthefloristhasalreadytakenthecardandcarriedthebouquetouttotheirbackroom.
It’sajoke,that’sall,theseflowers.Hediditformeandwehatebeinguneven.Islidemycreditcardbackintomypurseandimaginehimopeninghisdoor,andthelookonhisface.I’mbasicallycannonballingintosomethingIshouldn’t.
OnthewalkbackIbuytakeoutcoffeeandknockgentlyonHelene’sdoor.
“Hi.AmIinterrupting?”
“Yes,thankGod,”sheexclaims,throwingherglassesdownsovigorouslytheybounceontothefloor.“Coffee.You’reasaint.SaintLucyofCaffeine.”
“Andthat’snotall.”Itakeoutaflatboxoffancymacaronsfromundermyarm,labeledMadeinFrance.I’vehadtheminmydrawerforawhileforanemergency.I’msuchakiss-ass.
“DidIsaysaint?Imeantgoddess.”Shereachesintothecabinetbehindherandfindsaplate;itisdelicate,paintedwithflowersandedgedingold.Ofcourse.
“It’ssoquietouttheretoday.Icanhearapindrop.Itfeelsstrangetonotbeglaredat.”
“Getusedtoit.Hedoesstarealotatyou,doesn’the,darling?I’venoticedinthelastfewall-staffmeetings.Thosedarkblueeyesofhisareactuallyratherlovely.How’stheinterviewpreparationcomingalong?”
Sheopenstheboxofmacaronswithhersilverletter-openerandI’mgratefulshe’smomentarilydistracted.Sheshakestheboxgentlyontotheplateandweeachchoose.Ipickanoff-whitevanillaone,liketoday’smissingshirt,becauseIamtragic.
“I’masreadyasI’lleverbe.”
“I’mnotontheinterviewpanelsoitwouldn’tbeaconflictofinterestifwedidsomepracticetogether.How’syourpresentationcomingalong?”
“I’dlovetoshowyouwhatI’vegot.”
“Bexleyhasbeenmakingallsortsofcomments.Idon’tknowwhatI’lldo,Lucy,ifforsomereasonyoudon’tgetthejob…”Shelooksoutthewindow,expressiondarkening.Shepassesahandthroughherhairanditsettlesbackintoaperfectshiningcap.Iwishmyhairwassoobedient.
“Hecouldeasilygetthejoboverme.Joshhasamoneybrain.I’mmoreofabookbrain.”
“Hmm.Idon’tnecessarilyagree.Butifyouwant,wecouldbreedyoutogetherandcreatethenext-generationultimateBandGemployee.I’veneverheardyoucallhim‘Josh’before.”
Ipretendmymouthisincrediblyfull.Ichewandpointtomymouthandshakemyheadandbuymyselftwentysecondsoftime.Ihopethephonerings.
“Oh,well,youknow.That’s…hisnameIguess.Joshua.Er,JoshTempleman.JoshuaT.”
Shemunches,staringwithavidinterestatmyface.
“You’vegotarathereerieglowaboutyoutoday,darling.”
“NoIdon’t.”She’sontome.MymessingaroundwithJoshiscatchinguptome.
“You’reallconfusedandbunny-in-the-headlights.It’sthesedates.”
“It’sallabitconfusing.Dannyisnice.Hereallyis.”
“AllmyfavoriteboyfriendswhenIwasyoungweren’tparticularlynice.”
There’sabangonthedooradjoiningMr.Bexley’sofficetoHelene’s.I’mdeeplygratefultoFatLittleDickforthisinterruption.
“Enter,”shebarks.Heburstsinandstopsdeadwhenheseesmeandtheboxofmacaronsonthedesk.
“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Nevermind.”Helingers,eyesonthedesk,untilsheheavesasighandholdstheplateinhisdirection.Hetakestwo,fingershesitatingonathird.IswearIseethefaintesthintofamusementinhereyeswhenhewalksbackoutandshutsthedoorwithoutaword.
“Lord,couldthatmansmellthesugar?Igavehimsometoencouragethediabetes,darling,nootherreason.”
“Whatdidhewant?”
“He’slonelywithoutJosh.He’sgoingtohavetogetusedtoit.”
“Whenshouldwedoapracticepresentation?”
“Notimelikethepresent.Wowme,darling.”
Afterdeliveringmyintroduction,IcanseeIhaveherattention.“MypresentationistoproposeanewBacklistDigitalizationproject.I’vetakenasampleofthecombinedtoponehundredbookspublishedbyGaminandalsobyBexleyin1995,justasanexample.Onlyaboutfifty-fivepercentareavailableindigitalformat.”
“iPadsareafad,”Mr.Bexleyinterjectsfromtheopenadjoiningdoor,chewing.“Whowouldwanttoreadoffasheetofglass?”
“Thefactis,thelargestgrowingmarketfore-readersarethoseoverthirty,”Iexplain,tryingtokeepmycool.Howlonghashebeenstandingthere?Howdidheopenthedoorsosilently?IfocusonHeleneandtrytoignorehim.
“Thisisahugeopportunity,forallofus.It’sachancetorenewcontractswithauthorsthathavegoneoutofprint.It’sgrowthwithinthecompanyforpeoplewhohavetheskillstopullthecontentintoebook,thecoverdesigners,andtogetolderBandGreleasesbackontobest-sellerlists.Publishingisconstantlyevolving,andweneedtokeepup.”
“Pleaseleave,”HelenesaysoverhershouldertoMr.Bexley.Thedoorcloses,butIswearIcanstillseetwoshadowsofhisfeetunderthedoor.
Therisingpanicisnowfullyfledged.IfherevealsmystrategytoJosh,hecouldscrewme.Iclicktomylastslide.
“IfI’msuccessfulinwinningthisposition,Iwouldseektocreateaformalprojecttogetthedeepbacklistintoebook.Ihavecreatedaninitialbudget,whichI’llgettoinafewslidestime.Theseebookswillallneedtoberepackagedwithnew,updatedcovers.Therewillbecostsinvolvedwiththreenewcoverdesignersoverthecourseofthetwo-yearproject.”
Iclickthroughmyprojectproposal.Helenequestionsmeonseveralpoints,andIcananswerherquestionsandjustifymyrequirementseasily.Eventually,I’matmylastslide.HelenestaresatthescreenforsolongIchecktoseeifshe’sblinking.
“Darling.Very,verygood.”
Idroptokneelbesideherchair.Tearsareforminginhereyesandshetakesthetissuesfrommyhand,sighinglikeshefeelssilly.
“I’vebeenselfishinkeepingyououtthere,”shesaysquietly.“Ijust…Ican’tdowithoutyou.ButIseenowhowwrongI’vebeen.Ishouldhavedonemoretogetyouintoeditorialafterthemerger.Youweresoupsettoo,aboutlosingyourfriend.”
Ican’tsayanything.Idon’tknowwhattosay.
“ButeverytimeIstartedtothinkaboutrecruitingforyourjob,I’dthinkabouthowgoodyouareatit,howyoubasicallykeepthisofficerunningandkeepingmesane.ThenI’dsay,maybeanothermonthwon’thurt.”
“Ionlydomyjob,”Isay,butsheshakesherhead.
“Anothermonth.Andanothermonth.Anditdidhurtyou,Lucy.You’vehadambitions,andthingsyou’vewanted,andideas,butIcouldn’tbeartoletyougo.”
“Sothepresentationwasokay?”
Shelaughsandwipeshereyes.“Itisgoingtogetyouthispromotion.AndwearegoingtogetBandGbackintothegamewiththis.Together.Iwanttoberightbesideyou,workingascolleagues.MentoringyoumightbeoneofthebestthingsIeverachieveinmycareer.”
Shelooksatthelastpresentationslideandpauses.
“Ihavetoknow,though.Iftherewerenointerviews,nonewjob,wouldthisideahavestayedlockedupinsideyouforever?Whykeepthistoyourself?”
Isitbackonmyheelsandlookatmyhands.“Goodquestion.”
Howmanyotherthingshasthispromotionunlockedinsideme?
“Ithoughtyouknewyourideaswereimportant.”She’sstartingtofret.
“IthinkmaybeIwaswaitingforthetimingtoberight.OrIdidn’thaveconfidence.NowI’mbeingforcedtogowithit.It’sagoodthing,Ithink.EvenifIdon’tgetthejob,thiswholethinghas…wokenmeup.”
Ithinkoflastnight,kissingJoshunderastreetlight,andthenremember.
“WhatifMr.BexleytellsJoshaboutmypresentation?”
“Letmedealwithhim.Ifheturnsupdeadintheriveryou’llknowtokeepyourmouthshutandprovidemeanalibi.Focusonnextweek.Idohaveasuggestion.”
“Great.”ItaketheUSBandsitoppositeheragain.“Hitme.”
“It’salittlelightinsomeplaces.Whynothaveanebookreadyforthepresentation?Getsomethingfromthedeepbacklistcatalogintoe-format,andhaveabreakdownofhowmanyman-hoursittook,salarycosts.Theactualcostofcreatingit.Itwillproveyourbudgetisright.”
“Yes,goodidea.”Igulpmylukewarmcoffee.
“YouthinknumbersareJosh’sstrength,yes?Here’syourchancetoproveyou’reeverybitascapableofcreatingabaselinebudgetforthisnewproject.”
I’mnoddingandscribblingnotes,mymindracingahead.
“Buttokeepthingsfair,youcan’tusecompanyresourcesonthis.Getcreative.Useyourcontacts.Maybesomeonewhocanfreelance.”There’snomistakingthatshemeansDanny.
Ijotdownafewnotesformyselfassheturnsofftheprojector.
“I’mgoingtogetthis,”Itellherwithanewcertainty.
“Nodoubtaboutit,darling.”Helenelookstotheadjoiningdoor,andIseehermouthstarttoquirkwithmischief.
“DidyougivesomemorethoughttoyourrecentbattleswithJosh?Ihaveaninterestingtheory.”Alittlecackleescapesher.
“I’mnotsureI’mreadytohearthis.”Ileanonherdesk.
“It’sinappropriatebutheregoes.Joshthoughtyouwerelyingaboutyourdatebecausehecan’timagineyouwithanyonebuthimself.”
“Oh.Um.Ah.”Itryallvowelcombinations.Heatissweepingupmychest,upmythroat,face,intotherootsofmyhair,untilIamcompletelyred.
“Thinkonthat,”shesaysandpopsanotherentiremacaroninhermouth.
Iopenmymouth,hesitate,closeit,thendoitafewmoretimes.Shestandsupanddustsoffcrumbs,lookingatmeshrewdly.
“I’vegottorun,Ihavethehot-watermancomingatthree.Whydotheyalwayscomeatthemostinconvenienttimes?Gohometoo,darling.Youlookabitlikeafish.”
Isitatmydeskaftersheleaves.Thepathwayisasclearasday.IshouldbeonthephonetoDannytotalkabouthimfreelancingonmyebook,buteverytimeIpickupthephoneIputitdownagain.TokeepthingsprofessionalIdigouthisbusinesscardandemailhimameetingrequestfortomorrow.Ihavenoideawhathechargesbutit’sallornothingatthispoint.
Ihaveatext.Mystomachfreefalls.Myheartsoars.
JoshuaTempleman:Gladtohearit.
Hegottherosesthen.Ihugthephonetomychest.
Thisinterviewistheworstkindoflimbo.Somanypeoplehavewishedmegoodluckinthehallways.ImaginingtheirsympatheticawkwardnessifIfailisunbearable.
IfJoshgetsthisjob,Ihavetowalkaway.
Ilookatthecrossinmyplannerthatsymbolizesnextweek’sinterview.Asmuchasmymockpresentationboostedmyconfidence,Ialsoneedtoplanouttheworst-casescenario.It’sgoodbusinessplanningtohaveanexitstrategy.I’vegotsomemoneysavedinasacredaccountthatInevertouch.I’dwantedtotakeavacationthisyear,butIguessit’sgoingtobemysafetynet.MaybeI’dhavetogoandsitundertheumbrellaatthefrontgatesofSkyDiamondStrawberries.Myparentswouldprobablyhugandjumpandscreamindelight.Theywouldn’tevenhavethedecencytobedisappointedinme.
IfJoshgetsthisjob,andIresign,willmybitternessoutweighthoselittleflickersinsidemychestwhenhelooksatme?Couldourweird,fragilelittlegamesurviveoutsidethesewalls?MyfriendshipwithValdidn’tsurvive.
CouldweseeeachotherwhileIhearabouthissuccessesatB&GandI’minthejobqueue?Ontheotherhand,wouldhebehappyformysuccesswhilehe’spaperingthiscitywithhisCV?HisprideissomethingIcan’timaginehe’dlaydownlightly.
I’mnotcompletelyoutofoptions.I’vegotsomecontactsatsomesmallerboutiquepublishersthatIcouldpossiblyapproach,butI’dfeeldisloyaltoHelene.IcouldaskHeleneforatransferintoanotherB&Gteam.Maybeitistimetostartatthebottomoftheeditorialteam.ButifIremainatB&G,thatwouldalmostcertainlymeanthatJoshwasthenewCOO.
Needlesstosay,anychanceofeversittingonhiscouchagainwouldbecompletelygone.
LifewouldbeeasierifIcouldjusthateJoshuaTempleman.Ilookathisemptychair,andthenclosemyeyes,theblueofhisbedroomwashingthroughme
I’mabouttolosesomethingthatIneverhadtobeginwith.
IGOHOMEearlyasperHelene’ssuggestion,andlookforsomethingtooccupymyself.
Everythingistidy,thankstoJosh.IcheckonlineforanynewSmurfauctions,anddoalittlestocktakeofmycurrentcollection.IcountthePapaSmurfs.
Ilookinmyemptyfridge,andthinkofhisrainbowoffruitandvegetables.Idecidetomakeacupofteaandhavenone.Icouldgoouttothestore,butinsteadIdrinkaglassofwater.Ifeelcoldandbundlemyselfinacardigan.
NowthatI’veseenhisapartment,Ican’tstoplookingatmyownwithneweyes.It’ssodrab.Whitewalls,beigecarpet,thecouchanondescriptcolorinbetween.Nopatternedrugsorframedpaintings.
Ishowerandputonmakeup,whichisridiculous.WhywouldIsprayperfumeintomycleavage?Orputonmynicejeans?There’snooneheretoseeme,orsmellme.I’vegotnowheretogo.It’sbeensolongsinceI’vehadsomeoneinthecityIcouldcall.
Isitdownandmykneeisbouncing.Myinsidesarecrawling.Ifeellikeamagnet,shakingwiththeneedtomove.Isthishowaddictsfeel?Iambeginningtorealizewhat’shappening,butIcan’tadmitittomyself,notyet.
Hasholdingaphoneandlookingatacontactnameeverbeenthisterrifying?
JoshuaTempleman
Ishouldbesittingherelookingat
DannyFletcher
IshouldbegivingDannyacall,askinghimtomeetmeforamovieorabitetoeat.Wecouldplotandplanmyproject.He’smynewfriend.He’dmeetmewhereverIaskedintwentyminutes.Ibethewould.I’mdressed.I’mready
ButIdon’t.Instead,IdosomethingIdon’tthinkI’veeverdone.
IhittheCallbutton.
ImmediatelyIhangupandthrowmyphoneontothebedlikeagrenade.Iwipemydamppalmsonmythighsandletoutawheezingbreath.
Myphonebeginstoring.
Incoming:JoshuaTempleman
“Oh,hi,”ImanagetosaylightlywhenIanswer.Igrindtheheelofmyhandintomytemple.Ihavenodignity.
“Ihadamissedcall.Itrangonce.”
There’sloudpulsingmusicinthebackground.He’sprobablyswillingliquorinabar,surroundedbytallmodelsinstretchywhitedresses.
“You’rebusy.I’lltalktoyouaboutittomorrow.”
“I’matthegym.”
“Cardio?”
“Weights.Idoweightsatnight.”
Theresponseimplieshedoescardioanothertime.Hemakesafaintgrunt,andthenIhearaheavymetalclang.
“Sowhat’sup?Don’ttellmeyoupocket-dialedme.”
“No.”There’snopointinpretending.
“Interesting.”There’samuffledclothingsound,maybeatowel,andthenadoorcloses.Theobnoxiouspulsingmusicgetsquieter.
“I’moutsidenow.Idon’tknowifI’veeverseenyournameonmycallerID.Somethinghappenatwork?”
“Iknow.Iwasthinkingthattoo.”Thereisaloadedpause.“No,it’snotworkrelated.”
“That’sashame.IwashopingBexleyhadafatalembolism.”
Imakeanamusedhonk.ThenIfidget.“Iwascallingbecause…”
Ihaven’tseenyoutoday.I’vebeenfeelingmixedupanddesperatelysad,andforsomereasonseeingyoumighthelptheweirdpaininmychest.Idon’thavefriends.Exceptforyou.Exceptyou’renot.
“Yes…”HeisnothelpingmeoutatALL.
“I’mhungryandIhavenofood.AndIhaven’tgotanytea,andmyapartmentiscold.AndI’mbored.”
“Whataverysadlittlelife.”
“You’vegotlotsoffoodandtea.Andyourheatingisbetterthanmine,andI…”
Thereisnothingbutsilence.
“I’mnotboredwhenI’mwithyou.”I’mmortified.“ButI’dbetterjust—”
Hecutsmeoff.“Bettercomeoverthen.”
Relieffloodsthroughme.“ShouldIbringsomething?”
“Whatwouldyoubring?”
“Icouldgrabsomefoodontheway.”
“No,it’sokay,I’vegotsomethingtocook.Doyouwantmetopickyouup?”
“I’dbetterdrivemyself.”
“Probablysafer.”Webothknowwhy.It’dbetooeasyformetostaythenightotherwise.
I’malreadyholdingmypurse,coat,andkeys.Myfeetareinshoes.I’mlockingmydoorandjoggingdownthehalltotheelevator.
“Willyoushowmethemusclesyouworkedon?”
“Ithoughtyouwantedmeformorethanthat.”Icanhearacarstart.AtleastI’mnottheonlyimpatientone.
“Raceyouthere.Iwanttoseeyouallsweaty.Weneedtogeteven.”
“Givemehalfanhour.No,anhour.”He’salarmed.
“I’llwaitforyouinthelobby.”
“Donotleavenow.”
“Seeyousoon,”Ireplyandhangup.
IstartlaughingwhenIstartmycarandpulloutintotraffic.It’sanewgame,theRacingGame,withtwocarsatdifferentpointsonacitygrid,speedingtowardacentrallocation.It’sscaryhowIwanttobeinhisapartmentonhiscouchsobadlyI’mjigglingmykneeimpatientlyatredlights.I’dbetanythinghe’sdoingthesame.
WhenI’mjoggingupthesidewalktotheentrancetohisbuilding,I’vebasicallyexhaustedallofmyweakexcuses,caveats,reasoning,andwe’redowntothis.Irunintothelobby.
Ihaven’tseenJoshallday,andImisshim.
Theelevatorhasanuparrowaboveit.Iholdmybreath.Itbings.
Hecouldn’timagineyouwithanyonebuthimself.
Thedoorssnapopenandthereheis.Chapter16
He’sruffledandsweaty,weigheddownbygymgear.Hisbrowcreaseswhenhespotsme,hiseyesunsure.Heputsahandouttoholdtheelevatordoor.
My.Heart.Bursts.
“Iwon!”IscreamasIrunathim.HehasenoughtimetoputouthisarmsasIjump.HehitsthebackwallwithagruntasImanagetogetmyarmsandlegsaroundhim.Thedoorsslideclosedandhemanagestohitthebuttonforhisfloor.
“IthinktechnicallyIwon.Iwasinthebuildingfirst.”Ihearhimsayovermyhead.
“Iwon,Iwon,”Irepeatuntilhelaughsandconcedes.
“Okay.Youwon.”
Hissweatsmellslikerainwaterandcedar,leavingafaintrosemary-pinetingleinmynostrils.Ipressmyfaceagainsthisneckandbreathein,againandagainuntiltheelevatorbings,andwe’reonthefourthfloor.Itrytomusterupthestrengthtolethimgo,buttheaddictivepressofourbodiestogetherisstrongerthanmywillpower.
“Okaythen.”Hebeginstowalkdownthehallway.I’mclinginglikeakoalatohisfront,coatflapping,mybagbumpingagainsthisgymbag.Ihopehedoesn’tbumpintoanyneighbors.Ileanbackenoughtoseehisfaceandseeamusementshininginhiseyesasheputsdownhisbagbesidehisdoorandbeginssortingthroughhiskeys.
“Everymanshouldgetawelcomehomelikethat.”
“Don’tmindme.Goaboutyourbusiness.”
Ihugharder.Hiscollarbonefitsnicelyundermycheekbone.He’swearingahoodieandhisbodyfeelshumidanddamp.
Ihearhimdrophisgymgearintothebasket.Hetoesoffhissneakers,whichseemsalittlebitmoredifficult,andhetakesmybag.Hepressesabuttonontheheatingcontrol.
“Seriously,justpretendI’mnothere.”
Hewalksusintothekitchenandbendstolookintherefrigerator,makingmegriptighter.HefillsaglassandIpressmyeartohisnecktolistentohimswallow.
Itightenmylegsaroundhim,andheslidesahandtomybuttandsqueezesitonceinafriendlyway.Thenhegivesitaslap.“Ow,what’sinyourpocket?”
“Oh.”Iremembernowandfeellikeanerd.Islitherdowntomyfeet.“It’snothing.”
“Ithurtmyhand.”Hepullsthelumpyshapeoutofmypocketandcranestoseewhathe’sfound“It’saSmurf.Ofcourse.Whatelsewouldyoufillyourpocketswith?Whydoesithaveabowonit?”
“Ihave,like,tenofhim.It’sGrouchySmurf.”
“IfIdidn’tknowhowmuchyouadoreSmurfs,I’dbeinsulted.”HismouthquirksandIknowI’vepleasedhim.“Sowhat’swiththeSmurfs,anyway?”
“Mydadhadaregulardeliveryoverthestateline.He’dleavebeforedawnandbebackafterIwenttobed.HealwaysboughtmeaSmurfatthegasstationonthewayhome.”
“Sotheyremindyouofyourdad.That’snice.”
“Itmeantthathewasthinkingofme.”Ishuffleonthespot.
“Well,thankyouforthinkingofme.”
“Well,yougavemesomethingofyours,so.We’reeven.”
“Isthatsoimportant?Beingeven?”
“Ofcourse.”Inoticehehasalittlewhiteboardwithaweeklymealplan.He’ssuchafreak
“Okay,wellyou’reclean,andI’mnot.Ineedashower.”
“Howdoyousmellsogoodafterthegym?”Igointothelivingroomandthrowmyselfdownontothecouchwithagroan.Isinkintoitlikeit’smadeofmemoryfoam.Hello,Lucy,thecouchtellsme.Iknewyou’dbeback.
“Ididn’tthinkIdid,”herepliesfromthekitchen.I’mhearingwaterboilingandthefridgeopeningandteaspoonclinking.
“Youdo.”Ipataroundfortheribboncushion.“Likeamusclypinecone.”
“Ithinkit’smysoap.Momgivesittomeinbulk.Shelikesmakingcarepackages.”
Heappears,upsidedown,andIseeasliceofheavybareshoulderrevealedbyhishoodieslidingoff.He’swearingatankunderthere.Mymouthpuddleswithdrool.Heputsamugnearmeandhandsmethecushion.
“Takethehoodieoff.Please.I’llonlylookwithmyeyes.”
Heputshisfingeronthezip,andIbitemylip.Thenhezipsituptohisneckashighasitwillgo,andIhowl
“Drinkyourtea,youlittlepervert.”Hetossessomethingonmystomach.HeshutshisbedroomdoorandafteraminuteIheartheshower.Iholdupabox.It’sapackagedMatchboxcar.Ican’thelpfeelinglikeit’sareproach.Isn’tbeingwantedforhisbodyaman’sdream?
Iputtheribbonpillowundermyneck.It’salittleblackcarthistime,quitesimilartohis.Isthiswhathedidonhisdayoff?Goandbuymeatoy?Iopenthepackanddrivethetinycaronmystomachforawhile.IimaginehimintheshowerwithhisbarofsoaplikethelittlepervIam.
Aspredictablyasnightfollowsday,Ibegintofretastheminutespass.Idon’tknowwhyI’mhereagain.AllIknowisthiscouchismynewfavoriteplaceonearth.Ishouldputmyshoesonandleave.Itouchthesideofmymug.Notcoolenoughtodrink.
Ineedtostartbehavingnormally.Igotalittleoverexcited.Ithinkaboutwhatkindofgirlsheprobablydates.Tall,coolblondes.Ifeelitinmytinyundersizedbrunettebones.IrememberoncegoingtoaclubwithVal,backinthedaywhenIactuallydidthings,beforethemerger,beforetheloneliness
Wesawthesebored,beautifulicygirls.Theywerestandingbesidethebar,ignoringallthemenwhoapproachedthem.ValandIspenttherestofthenightimitatingthemonthedancefloor,strikingaloofposesandmakingeachotherlaughwithfierce,steelyglances.Imighttryitnow.
Whenhisbedroomdooropensandheappearsagain,Iamamatureyoungwoman,legselegantlycrossed,flippingthroughamedicaltextbook,sippingmytea.He’sgotonsomesoftblacksweats,ablackT-shirt,andnicebarefeet.Can’thehaveaflaw?
Hesitsontheedgeofthecouch,hishairdampandruffledineverydirection.Iturnthepageandunfortunatelyaluriddiagramofanerectpenisglaresupatme.
“Iamtryingtobeabitmorenormal.”
Helooksatthepage.“How’sitworkingoutsofar?”
“I’mgladthisisn’tapop-upbook.”
Hehuffsinamusement.Ifollowhimtothekitchenandwatchhimcutvegetablesintoridiculouslyneatlittlesticks.
“Omeletokay?”
Inodandglanceathiswhiteboard.Tuesday:OMELET.Ilookatwhat’sfordinnerfortherestoftheweek.IwonderhowIcanscoreaninvitationback.
“CanIdoanything?”
HeshakeshisheadandIwatchhimcracksixeggsintoametalbowl.
“So,howwaswork?Youclearlymissedme.”
Iputmyhandsonmyfaceinembarrassmentandhejustlaughsabittohimself.
“Itwasboring.”It’sthetruth.
“Noonetoantagonize,huh?”
“Itriedabusingsomeofthegentlefolkinpayrollbuttheygotallteary.”
“Thetrickistofindthatonepersonwhocangiveitbackasgoodastheycantakeit.”Hetakesoutapanandbeginstofrythevegetablesinasingle,stingydropofoil.
“SonjaRutherford,probably.ThatscaryladyinthemailroomthatlookslikeanalbinoMorticiaAddams.”
“Don’tlinemyreplacementuptooquick.You’llhurtmyfeelings.”
Thereminderofthelikelyoutcomeofthisentirescenariomakesmedecidetoleanagainsthim.Themiddleofhisbackisthemostperfectlyergonomicplacetohidemyface.
Whenitallcomestoanend,I’mgoingtorememberthis.
“Yougottatellmewhyyou’rehere.”
“Igotabit…sadtoday,thinkingabouteverythingchanging?”
“DoctorJoshdiagnosesyouwithStockholmsyndrome.”
“Iknow,right.”Isnugglemycheekintothemuscle.
“Maybeyoufearchange,ratherthantheprospectofsittingaloneinthere.”
Iappreciatehehasn’tautomaticallysaidI’dbeoutjobhunting.
“Ikeptthinkingaboutyourbluebedroom.Ifeellikethisissomethingweneedtodiscuss.Beforetimerunsout.”
Ihearthedeepsizzleoftheeggbeingaddedtothevegetables.Hecoversthepanandturns.
“You’rethesortofpersonwhoneedstobeeasedintothingsslowly.”
Iopenmymouthtoprotest,buthesilencesme.
“Iknowyou,Luce,andyoudo.Yourfreak-outsareprettyimpressive.Imaginewehavesexrightnow.Righthere,onthecounter.”Heslapshishanddownfirmlyonit.
“You’dbesoawkwardafterward,you’dneverspeaktomeagain.You’dquitaheadoftheinterviewsandgoandliveintheforest.”
“Whywouldyoucare?I’dliketoliveinaforest.”
“Ineedyoutocompetewithme.Andmaybewecanfindascenariothatdoesn’tinvolverunningoutoftime.”Hesighsandcheckstheomelet.“Doyouhaveone-nightstands?Like,doyougotoclubsandpickoutsomehotguyandtakehimhomewithyou?”
Evenasheasksthequestion,hisfacegrimaces.MaybeI’mnottheonlyonewhocanimaginefacelesssuitors.
“Ofcoursenot.Unlessyoucount.AndIcan’tevengetonenight.”
Helightlyrubshispalmacrossmyshoulders,askindlyasafriend,andallthewiringholdingmymusclestogethergetsaninchlooser.Istepcloserandleanallmyweightagainsthim.WhenIpressmycheekonhischest,hisheatglowsagainstme.
“I’mtryingtomakesurethatwhenwedo,youdon’thaveanyregrets.”
“IdoubtIwould.”
“I’mflattered.”Hepeeksinattheomelet.“Gobacktothecouch,puttheTVon.”
Idropmyselfintotheplushperfectionofhiscouch.I’mgoingtotransformmyigloointoasafe,warmlittlestrongholdtoo.Ineedlamps,rugs,moreshelves,andapaintingofTuscany.Ineedbucketsofpaintandapalebluebedroom.Whitelinenandafern.
“Where’dyougetthiscouch?Iwanttogetthesameone.”
“It’stheonlyoneonearth.”Hisdryvoicefloatsoutfromthekitchen.
“CanIbuyitfromyou?”
“No.”
“Whataboutthisribboncushion?”
“Oneofakind.”
“IthinkIseeyourstrategy.”IwatchTVforabitandJoshhandsmeaplateandafork.
“I’mlikealittleduchesswhenI’mhere.Youdon’thavetowaitonme.”Ikickmyshoesoffunderhiscoffeetable.
“Somehorriblemonsterssecretlyenjoyspoilinglittleduchesses.Shouldweaimforatwo-hourcease-fire?Startingnow?”
“Sure,let’sdoit.Yum,thislooksgood.”Icansmellfreshbasil.Howishestillsingle?
Wewatchthenewsandhetakesmyemptyplate.Thenhegivesmeabowlofvanillaicecream.Hedoesn’thaveoneforhimself.
“Whyevenbotherkeepinganyinyourfreezer?”
“IncaseIhaveunexpectedsweet-toothvisitors.”
Ican’thelpbutgrinatthethought.“Itwouldn’tdestroythoseabstohaveonelittlespoonful.It’sprotein,right?”
Helooksatthebowl,andsighs.Hetakesmyspoonfrommeandstealsahugemouthful.“Oh,lord.”Hiseyelidsflutter.
“Youshouldtreatyourselftosomethingsmalleachnight.Nopointinbeingcrueltoyourself.”
“Somethingsmall,huh?”Helooksatmepointedly.“Okay.”
Itakeanothermouthfuloficecream.Thespoonslidesagainstmytongueandtheintimacyofitisobscene.Histongue,mytongue.Ilickitandhewatchesme,chestexpanding,breathleavinghiminarush.
HeunfoldsafluffygrayblanketovermeandIlietherelikeaspoiledchild.Hesitsatthefarend,nearmyfeet,andIstareathissideprofileasheleansforwardontheedgeofthecouchandpicksupthemedicaltextbook.
“Youlooksad.”
“I’m…happy.”Hisexpressionchangestofaintsurprise.“Weird.”
“Whydoyoustillhavethosetextbooks?Thisonehassomanydicksinit.”
“Iwasoriginallygoingtogointothefamilytrade.Ihaven’tmanagedtopartwiththem,Iguess.Andalotofthemaremymother’s.They’reprettyold,butshewantedmetohavethem.”
Heflipstotheflyleafandtraceshisfingeracrossherhandwrittenname.Iwanttoaskabouthisparents,butifIknowJosh,he’sonthevergeofshuttingdown.
“DoctorJosh,MD.Youwouldhavebeenasexydoctor.”
“Oh,definitely.”Hediscardsthebookandclicksaroundwiththeremote.
“Allyourladypatientswouldhavehadpoundingheartrates.”
Hetakesmyemptybowl.HekissesthelittlehingeofmyjawuntilIgasp,andthenfindsthepulsepointinmywristexpertly.
“Let’ssee.Thinkaboutmeinawhitecoat,slidingastethoscopeintotheneckofyourblouse.”
Icanalmostfeelthefreezingcolddiscpressedagainstme.IshiverandIfeelmynipplesbegintopinch.
“You’regivingmeabrand-newkink.”Isayitlikeasmartass,buthesmiles.
“Icouldprobablyworkwiththat.”
Mymindleapstowhatourtheoreticalsexlifewouldbelike.We’replayinggameswitheachotherallday;itstandstoreasonthey’dcarryoninbed.TheimagehitsmesopowerfullyIfeelmybodysqueeze,emptyandwanting.
Hisvoiceagainstthebackofmyearaswestandinthedoorwaytohisbeautifulbedroom.
Whatshallweplaynow?
“I’dpretendtobesickeverysinglenight.”
“Everynight?”He’sstillcheckingmypulse,staringathiswatch,hislipsmovingashecounts.It’ssosexyIknowitbeatsfaster.Eventually,hereleasesme.
“Quiteapoundinglittleheartyougotthere.AndaragingcaseofHorny-Eye.Ithinkit’squiteserious.”
“WillIdie?”
“Iprescribecompletecouch-restundermysupervision.Butit’stouchandgo.”
“I’dmakeasleazyjokeaboutyourbedsidemannerbutitwouldbealittleredundantatthispoint.”Isnugglebackdownundermyblanket.
“Canyouevenimaginemybedsidemanner?I’dbetheworst.I’dscarepeopleintohealth.”
“Isthatwhyyoudidn’twanttobeadoctor?Becauseyouhatepeople?”
“Itdidn’tworkout.”Hisvoicegetshard.
“Wasthereanythingyouenjoyedaboutit?”
“Ienjoyedmostofit.Iwasgoodatthetheorycomponent.I’vegotagoodmemory.AndIdon’thateallpeople.Just…mostpeople.”
“Whataboutthepracticalcomponent?Didyouhaveabadexperience?Didtheymakeyouputyourfingerupsomeone’sbutt?”
Helaughsevenashisnosewrinklesindistaste.“Youdon’tstartonlivepeople.Andyoudon’tstartonbutts.Whatkindofmindthinksofthat?”
“Cadavers!Ibetyousawcadavers.Whatwasitlike?”IthinkofalltheautopsyscenesinLaw&Order
“Thisonetime,mydad…”Hehesitates,lookingaway,considering.
Idon’tpushhim,andafteralongsilencehecontinues.
“Mydad,inhiswisdom,decidedtosetmeuponabitofinformalworkexperienceathishospital,inthebreakbeforeIstartedcollege.Someofitwasokay.MainlyIwaspassedaroundbyafewdoctorswhoallseemedtooexhaustedtosaynotohim.Butoneafternoonheslapsmeontheback,introducesoneofthecoroners,andleavesustoit.”
Iamstartingtofeelterrible.“Youdon’thavetotellmeifit’shard.”
“No,it’sokay.Iguessitwastheultimatebaptismoffire.ImadeitthroughaboutfiveminutesbeforeIthrewup.Thesmellofdeadperson,andchemicals,itleftatasteinmymouth.ProbablywhyIstartedeatingallthesemints.SometimesIcan’tgetthesmelloutofmynoseandit’sbeenyears.”
Heliftsmyarmandpressesmywristtohisnose.
“Yourskinsmellslikecandy.Upuntilthatpoint,itwasagivenI’dstudymedicine.Mygreat-great-grandfatherwasadoctorandit’salwaysbeentheTemplemanchosenvocation.Butafterseeingsomeone’sribcagegetjackedopen,itwasthebeginningoftheend.”
“Youmanagedtostayfortherestoftheautopsy?”
“Imanagedtostayforanotheryear.AndthenIquit.”Helooksdistressedbythememoryanddefaultstodefensiveness.“Soyoucameovertogrillmeonmylifechoices?”
Icatchhisfingertipsandholdhishandbetweenmine.
“Ididn’twanttobeanywhereelsetonight.Iwascrawlingoutofmyskin.”
I’mproudIhadthecouragetosayit.
Heturnsbacktomeandtheexpressioninhiseyesissofter.
“Mylegwasjigglinglikethis.”Idemonstrateandhegrins.“Youshouldhaveseenmedrivinghere.IwaslaughinglikeI’dbrokenoutofprison.Iwascompletelyderanged.”
“Doyouthinkyou’vefinallycrackedyoursanity?”
“Forsure.Theweirdneedtostareatyourprettyfacecompletelyoverwhelmedme.Ihadtheenergyoftwentyatombombs.”
“WhydoyouthinkIgotothegymsomuch?”
Abigbubbleofhappinessfillsme.Istruggleuprightandleanagainsthim,myheadfallingeasilyintotheperfectcradleofhisneck.It’strue;hefitsmeeverywhere.
“Youneverhavetoexplainyourchoices.Nottome,nottoanyone.”
Henodsslowly,andIcoverhimintheblankettoo.
IcouldneverhaveimaginedonedayI’dbesittingonacouch,mymouthtastinglikevanilla,withmyheadonJoshuaTempleman’sshoulder.It’sgoingtoendindisaster.Iclosemyeyesandbreathe.
“Iwanttoknowwhyyouweresosadtoday,Shortcake.”It’suncannyhowhesensesshiftsinmymood.
“Ijustwas.Iwasthinkingabouteverythingatstakeforme.”
“Tellme.”
“Ican’t.You’remynemesis.”
“You’reawfullysnugglywithyournemesis.”It’strue.I’msnuggling.
“Idon’twanttotalkaboutme.Wenevertalkaboutyou.Iprobablydon’tknowanythingaboutyou.”
Helaceshisfingersintomineandrestsourhandsonhisstomach.Imovemyfingertipsintinycirclesandhesighsindulgently.
“Sureyoudo.Goon,listeverything.”
“Iknowsurfacethings.Thecolorofyourshirts.Yourlovelyblueeyes.Youliveonmintsandmakemelooklikeapigincomparison.Youscarethree-quartersofBandGemployeesabsolutelysenseless,butonlybecausetheotherquarterhaven’tmetyouyet.”
Hesmirks.“Suchabunchofdelicatesissies.”
Ikeeptickingthingsoff.
“You’vegotapencilyouuseforsecretpurposesIthinkrelatetome.YoudrycleanonalternateFridays.Theprojectorintheboardroomstrainsyoureyesandgivesyouheadaches.You’regoodatusingsilencetoscaretheshitoutofpeople.It’syourgo-tostrategyinmeetings.Yousitthereandstarewithyourlaser-eyesuntilyouropponentcrumbles.”
Heremainssilent.
“Oh,andyou’resecretlyadecenthumanbeing.”
“Youdefinitelyknowmoreaboutmethananyoneelse.”Icanfeelatensioninhim.WhenIlookathisface,helooksshaken.Mystalkinghasscaredtheever-lovingshitoutofhim.Unfortunately,thenextthingIsaysoundsderanged.
“Iwanttoknowwhat’sgoingoninyourbrain.Iwanttojuiceyourheadlikealemon.”
“Whydoyouevenwanttoknowanythingaboutme?IthoughtIwasgoingtobeyouronegloriousboutofhatesextocrossoffyourlistbeforeyousettledownwithsomeMr.NiceGuy.”
“IwanttoknowwhatsortofpersonI’llbeusingandobjectifying.What’syourfavoritefood?”
“Vanillaicecream.Eatenfromyourbowl,withyourspoon.Andstrawberries.”
“Dreamvacationdestination.”
“SkyDiamondStrawberries.”
WhenIlevelafrustratedlookathim,herelents,andpointsattheframeonhiswall.
“ThatexactTuscanvilla.”
“Iwanttoclimbinsidethatpainting.Whatwouldyoudothere?”
“Swiminapoolwithatilemosaiconthebottom.”Hesmilesathowmuchthatimagedelightsme.
“Doesthepoolhaveafountainsomewhere?Likealittlelionspittingwater?”
“Yes,itdoes.Aftertheswim,Ilieintheshadeeatinggrapesandcheese.ThenI’dhaveabigglassofwineandfallasleepwithabookonmyface.”
“Basicallyyou’vejustdescribedheaven.Whathappensthen?”
“Iforgottomentionthatabeautifulgirlswaminthatpoolwithmeandsleptinthatsuntoo.She’sstarving.I’dbettertakeheroutforpasta.Carbohydratesandoil,coveredincheese.”
“I’menjoyingthisfoodfantasy,”Imanage.IwanttobethatgirlsobadlyIcouldhowl.
“We’dwalkbacktothevillainthedark,andI’dpulldownthezipofherreddress.I’dfeedherchampagneandstrawberriesinbedtokeepherstrengthup.”
“Howareyoucomingupwiththisstuff.”I’msoenrapturedI’malmostslurring.Ifthisiswhathisholidaydaydreamislike,Iwouldn’tsurvivehisbedroom.
“ThenI’dwakeupanddoitallagainthenextday.Withher.Forweeks.”
Istareatthepaintingandimaginestandingwithhimundertheglitteringdarkpurplesky,theheadlightsoffarawaycarsilluminatingtherowsofpoplartreesliningtheroad.
Ihavetosaysomething.Anything.He’slookingatme,clearlyentertained
“Luckybitch.”
Helaughsoutloudatthat.Ifireoffmynextquizquestion.
“You’reshipwreckedontoanuninhabitedisland.Whatthreethingswouldyoutakewithyou?”
“Aknife.Atarpaulin.”Hethinksforalongtimeonthelastitem.
“Andyou.Toannoyyou,”heamends
“I’mnotanobject.Idon’tcount.”
“ButI’dbesolonelyontheisland,”hepointsout.Ithinkofhimsittingaloneintheall-staffmeeting.
“Okay.Sowe’recrawlingupthebeachandI’mcursingyournameforpullingmeawayfromcivilizationandhair-careproductsandlipstick.Whatthen?”
Myshiverfromthemovementofhislipsonmyearlobeshakesthecouch.WhenIfeelthepressofhismouthtomythroat,Igroanoutloud.
HeturnstheTVoff,andforamomentI’mcertainhe’sabouttowalkmeout.Orpickmeupandthrowmeonhisbed.It’shardtotell.Heraiseshishandsintomyhair,softlytrailinghisfingertipsthroughit,untilhereachesmyscalp.Myeyelidsflutter.
“I’dbuildyouashelterandfindyouacoconut,andthenwe’dpassthetime.”
“How?”Myvoiceisbarelymorethanawhisper.
“Probablylikethis.”Hepresseshismouthtomine.Chapter17
Webothsuckinabreathandtheroomhasnooxygenleft.
Lastnighthepickedmeupunderastreetlightandgavemeakissthatwascalculatedtoleavemewantingmore.NowIknowwhatmyproblemhasbeentoday.I’vebeencraving.
ImagesofusinanotherlifeinTuscanyarestillbehindmyeyelidsashekissesmymouthopen,touchesmytonguewithhis,andbreathes.Hesighs.He’swantedthis.He’sbeencravingasbadlyasIhave.Mymouthisvanilla,hisismint,andtheycombinetocreatesomethingdelicious.
Amiraclehasoccurred,andIdon’tknowwhen,butIknowitnow.JoshuaTemplemandoesnothateme.Notabit.There’snowayhecouldwhenhekissesmelikethis.
Heloosensonehandfrommyhairandspreadsitacrossmyjaw,strokingmyskin,cuppingandtiltingmyface.It’ssocompletelysweet,evenasourtonguesbegintogetfilthy.
Islidemykneeoverhislap,feelingmyinnerthighsstretch.
“IsworetomyselfIwouldn’tcomeheretonight.”
“Yethereyouare.Interesting.”
Webothlookdownatmythighsonhis,andIcan’tstopmyselffromslidingmyhipsforward.
Thisnewpositionsplicespowerandadrenalineintomyblood.Iputmyhandsonhiscollarbonesandlookhimover.Hishairisstillalittledamp.Icupthenapeofhisneckinmypalmandpressmyhandagainsthisheart.
Istartaslowslidedowntohischest,ribs,testingthedensityofflesh.He’ssofirmIcantracethelinesbetweeneachmuscle,eventhroughaT-shirt.Itrytotugupthebottomoftheshirtbutit’spinnedundermyknees.
Impatienceripscleanthroughme.InearlytearhisshirtoffbutIforcemyfingerstoloosen.Hemustseethisflashofviolentcavewoman,becausehecloseshiseyesandhisthroathumsinagroan.
“Sometimesyoulookatmelikeyou’re…”
HeforgetswhathewassayingwhenIbegintokisshisjaw.Hishandsliepalms-uponeithersideofmycalves.He’slettingmecontrolthisandIlikeit.IfeelhimsmilewhenInibbleagainsthisbottomlip.
Thecouchgivessoftlyunderneathmyknees,andasourclothesbegintomakeawarmfriction,Ifeelhisarousal,hardandblunt,pressingintothebackofmythigh.
“Ineedit,”Itellhimandwatchhiseyesgoviciouslyblack.Itakehugehandfulsofhisclothesandwekissagain.
Irollmyhipsslowlyinhiswidelapandhishandsslidedownmybodyinaseriesofslow,squeezingpauses.Shoulders,underarms,thesidesofmybreasts.Ishiver,andheslideshishandslower.Ribs,thecurveofmywaist.Hips.Butt.
Hishandsslidedownmythighs,hislongfingersdraggingdowntheouterandinnerseamofmyjeans.Hetraceshisfingersalongmycalves.WhenIdropmyfacetohisneck,hishandstightenonmyankles,alittlereminderhecouldtakecontrolifhewantedto.
“Ilikehowlittleyouare.”Hesuresoundslikehelikesmybodyashetakesanotherslow,strokingtour.
AsIslidemytongueintohismouth,Ibeginthinkingaboutaboardmeetingwe’dbeenin,afewweeksback.He’dbeensittingbythewindowandIrememberwatchingthesunslowlyslidealongthewindowsill,acrossthefloor,acrosstheboardtableastheafternoondraggedon.
He’dbeenwearinganavysuitIdon’tseehimwearoftenandthepaleblueshirt.I’dsatthereoppositehim,watchingthewaythesunslowlycreptuphisbodylikearisingtide.I’dbreathedinthescentofthefabricwarmingonhisbody.
Irememberhowhe’dcuthisdarkblueeyestomeduringthemeeting,andithadflusteredme,mademystomachtwistinhalf.He’dsmirkedandresumedhispatientstaringatthePowerPointpresentation,nottakingasinglenotewhereasmyscribblinghandwascramping.
Thoseeyes,flashingtomyface,mademejumpoutofmyskin.Ihadn’tknownwhy.NowIdo.
“Iwasrememberingtheboardmeetingafewweeksback.”Myheadrollstoonesideashekissesunderthehingeofmyjaw.Ihaveafull-bodyshiver.Hishandspreadsacrossmyribs,thumbnudgingtheundersideofmybreast.Mytotalfocusnarrowsdowntothishalfinchofcontact.
“Yes,whataboutit?I’mnotdoingsowellifyou’rethinkingaboutitnow.”
Hereturnshismouthtomineanddialsitupalittle.It’sminutesbeforeIcanspeakagain.Possiblyhours.Mybreathisinlittlegaspingpants,andhebitesdowngentlyontomybottomlip
Histhumbslidesup,nudgesmynipplesoftlyandcontinuesuptomyjaw.Ijoltandquiver.
Ihavetoexplainmyselfproperly.“Youlookedatmeand…AndIthinkIwantedtokissyou.Ionlyjustrealized.”
“Oh,really.”
Iamrewardedbyhisotherhandslidingupthebackofmytop.Skinagainstskin.Fingersplayinglanguidlywithmybrastrap.
“Iwasrememberinghowyougavemethislook.”
“LikeIwasthinkingaboutsomethingdirty?Iwas.Youwerewearingyourwhitesilkshirtwiththepearlbuttons.Andthissoft-lookingcardiganforthefirsthalfofthemeeting.Hairup,redlips.”
Heleansbackandtrailshisfingertipsdownmythroattothetopofmycleavage.Hisfingertipsdipin,IshudderouttheonlythingIcanthinkof.
“It’sacashmerecardigan.”
“YoulikeDoctorJosh…IlikeprissyretrolibrarianLucy.Silk-cashmereLucy.That’smykink.Apencilinyourhair,grillingadepartmentheadonabsenteestatsforlastquarter.”
Hecontinueshisslidedownmytorso,fingerspressingintomyribs.
“Whataspecifickink.Ican’tbelieveyoucanrememberwhatIwaswearing.Buthey,Icanrollwiththis.Icouldgetsomenerdglassesandscoldyou.”Ifrownsternlyandholdmyfingertomylips.“Bequiet.”
Hegroanstheatrically.“Icouldn’ttakeit.”
“Canyouevenimaginehowitwouldbebetweenyouandme?Allday,everynight?”
HeknowsexactlywhatImean.“Oh,yeah.”
“Likeyousaidjustbefore:Thetrickistofindsomeonewho’sstrongenoughtotakeit.Thatonepersonwhocangiveitbackasgoodastheyget.”
“Canyou?”Hiseyeslooklikehe’sondrugs.Pupilsinked,iriseshazy.
“Yeah.”
Wekisswithanewintensity,sparkedbyoursharedboardroomfantasies.LucyandJoshstarringingraphic,sweat-slickedpornography.
Hearchesagainstme.Hishard-onispressingsohardagainstthebackofmylegmyhamstringfeelsbruised.
Hebreaksthekiss.“Slowup.Iwanttoaskyousomething.”
Hesitsbackalittleandwestareintoeachother’sblackeyes.Hismouthissoftened,pinkandIwantitalloverme.Lickingandbitingmouthfulsofmyflesh.MybreathingissoloudthatIalmostcan’thearwhathesaysnext.
“Whenyoucalledmetonight,didyounearlycallDannyinstead?”Istarttoprotestbuthesmootheshishanddownmyarm.
“I’mnotbeingajealouspsycho.I’mjustinterested.”
“Youalreadywonthatcompetitionwithhim.He’smyfriendnow.Weareonlygoingtobefriends.”
“Youhaven’tanswered,though.”
“He’sthesensibleoption.I’mnotdoingmanysensiblethingswithmyeveningsthesedays.I’mgladIdidn’tcallhim.I’dprobablybesittinginamovie,insteadofhere.”Ibouncealittleonhislap.
Joshtriestosmile,butitdoesn’tquitework.“I’dgotoamoviewithyou.Look,it’sgettinglate.”
Hishandsslidedownmybacktogripmybutt.Hetiltsme,anddragsmedownthehardnessofhisarousal.Thenheliftsmeoffandsetsmeaside.
Hesitsforwardontheedgeofthecouchandputshisfaceinhishands.He’sbreathingasheavilyasIam.Itdoesmyegonoharm.
“Fuck.”Hesighsit.“Iamsoturnedon,”hesayswithanembarrassedhalflaugh,andIcompletelyunderstandhisdesperation.
He’ssurelygottobewonderingwhyhe’ssubjectinghimselftothis.He’sanadultman,reducedtoteenagemake-outsessionswithhisweirdcolleague.
“DoyouwanttohearhowturnedonIam?”
“I’dbetternot,”hemanages.
“IguessIshouldgohome.”Iprayhetellsmetostay.Hedoesn’t.
Hetalksthroughhishands.“Givemeaminute.”
Itakeourmugsandmybowlintothekitchenandrinsethebowl.Ilookatthefryingpanandputitinthesinkandfillitwithhotwaterandsuds.Mylegsaretremblinganddoingapoorjobofholdingmeupright.
“I’lldoit,”Joshsaysbehindme.“Leaveit.”
Myeyesbadlywanttodropbelowhiswaist,butbecauseIamaladyIresist.
Hefeedsmyarmsintomycoatandwebothputourshoeson.Wecarefullystandontheoppositeendsoftheelevator,butwestareateachotherlikewe’reonesecondawayfromslammingtheelevatortoanemergencystoptoputourselvesoutofourmisery.
“IfeellikeyourEasteregg.”
Hecatchesmyhandatthecurbandwalksacrossthestreetwithme.Whenwereachmycar,Itiltmymouthuptohis.Hecarefullytakesmyfaceinhishandsandhekissesme.Asimultaneousshockedgasprocksus.It’slikewehaven’tkissedinaneternity.HepressesmeagainstthecardoorandIwhimper.Tongues,teeth,breath.
“YoutastelikemyEasteregg.”
“Please,please.Ineedyousobadly.”
“I’llseeyouatworktomorrow,”hereplies.Heturnsmeinhisarms,andpresseshismouthagainstthebackofmyneck.Eventhroughmyhair,theheatofhisbreathmakesmeinhalesohardit’smoreofasnort.
“Isthisanassholecontrol-freakthing?”Iwrigglefree.
“Possibly.Soundsconsistentwithmycharacter.”
Ihaveathought.“Areyouplanningonsexingmecomatoseonthemorningoftheinterviewsoyoubeatme?”
Joshputshishandsinhispockets.“It’sworkedforeveryotherpromotionI’vegotteninmylife.Whystopnow?”
“YouwanttomakesureI’malloveryoulikearashatthewedding.”
Somethingaboutthelookonhisfacemakesmestepbackandpressmybacktothecolddoorofmycar.
“Youhaven’tliedandtoldthemallaboutthebrainsurgeonyou’rebetrothedto?”
Hesmiles.“Dr.LucyHutton,MD.She’sbrilliant,yetunorthodox.”
“I’mserious.Answerthequestion.I’mcomingasme,aren’tI?I’mnotsupposedtobeacting?”
“No.”
Ibitemythumbandlookdownthestreet.WhydoIfeellikehe’slying?
“Well,I’mbeginningtothinkyou’releavingmehornytomakesureI’llkeepcomingbackhere.I’mlikeacat.You’releavingoutasaucerofcream.”
Joshlaughs,abigproperlaughlikeI’mhilarious.Delighted,irritatedelectricityfloodsme.I’mcracklingwithit.Inthismoment,I’mmorealivethanI’veeverbeen.
Fightwithme,kissme.Laughatme.Tellmeifyou’resad.Don’tmakemegohome.
“We’llhavetoseeifit’strue.Ifyou’rebacktomorrownight,I’llconcedeit’spartofadeliberatestrategy.”Helooksdownatmewithundisguisedpleasure.
Thethoughtofreturningdidn’tproperlyoccurtome.Thefollowingdaynowglowswithpromise.
“Onemore.”
HekissesmycheekandIgroaninmisery.
“Getouttahere,Shortcake.Andremember,Idon’twanttoseeyoufreakingouttomorrow.”
Ican’tgetmyseatbeltonproperly.I’msowiredit’slikeI’mhavingdrugwithdrawals.Hetapsmywindowtomakemelockthedoor.
I’mhalfwayhomewhenascarythoughtcrystallizes.
Ican’twaitforworktomorrow.
TODAYHISSHIRTisthecolorofasaucerofcream.
Actnatural,Lucy.Walkintherelikesexonlegs.Noawkwardness.Go.
Helooksatme,myanklewobbles,andIdropmyhandbag.Thelidofmylunchboxpopsoffandatomatorollsacrossthefloor.Idroptomyhandsandkneesandmystilettoheelgetscaughtonthedanglingbucklebeltofmycoat.
“Crap.”Itrytocrawl.
“Smooth.”Joshgetsupandwalkstome.
“Shuddup.”
Heunhooksmycoatandgathersupmylunch,beforeholdingahanddowntome.IhesitateminutelybeforeItakeit,lettinghimhaulmeup.
“CanIrewindmyentrance?”
Hepullsthecoatfrommyshouldersandhangsitupforme.
Mr.Bexley’sdoorisopenandthelightsareon.Helene’salatestarter.She’sprobablystillinbed.
“Howwasyourevening,Lucinda?Youlooktired.”
MystomachsinksindismayathisimpersonaltoneuntilIlookathisfaceandrealizehiseyesarelitwithmischief.IfMr.Bexleyiseavesdropping,he’llhearnothingoutoftheordinary.
Thisisadangerousnewgame,theActNaturalGame,butI’llgiveitatry.“Oh,itwasniceenough,Iguess.”
“Nice.Hmm.Getuptoanythinginteresting?”He’sgotthepencilinhishand.
“Isatonthecouch.”
HeshiftsinhischairandIlookathislap.
“Serialkillereyes,”Imouthathim.Isitontheedgeofmydesk,takeoutmytubeofFlamethrowerandbegintoapply,usingthewallnearestmeasamirror.HelooksatmylegswithsuchnakedlustInearlysmudgeit.“Andwhatdidyougetupto,Josh?”
“Ihadadate.Atleast,Ithinkitwas.”
“What’sshelike?”
“Clingy.Shereallythrewherselfatme.”
Ilaugh.“Clingyisnotanattractivetrait.Ihopeyoukickedherout.”
“IguessIsortofdid.”
“That’lllearnher.”Ibegintogathermyhairintoahighbunbeforesmoothingdownmydress.It’safinecreamwoolknit,stretchyandwarm,andIadmitIworeittomatchhisshirt.HelikesprissylibrarianLucy?He’sgotittoday.
Hewatchesmyhands.Iwatchhis.They’rewhite-knuckled.
“NotsureifI’llseeheragain,though.”Hesoundsbored,andhe’sclickinghismouseonhiscomputer.Whenhiseyescutsidewaystomine,Iflashtolastnightandmyinsidesclench.
“Maybetakehertoyourbrother’swedding?Alwaysgratifyingtowalkintooneofthosesituationswithahotdate.”
Webothlookateachother,andIeasemyselfslowlyintomychair.TheStaringGamehasneverfeltsodirty.Thephonerings.IlookatthecallerIDandthewordFUCKlightsupinneoninmybrain.
Joshtakesonelookatmyface.“Ifit’shim,I’mgoingto—”
“It’sJulie.”
“Abitearlyforher,isn’tit?You’regoingtohavetobefirmwithher.”Thephonecontinuesringing,andringing.
“I’llletitgotovoicemail.I’mtootiredtodealwiththisnow.”
“Youwillnot.”Hedialsstar-nineandanswersmyextension.Theyteachcallcenteroperatorstosmilewhentheyansweracall.Peoplecanhearasmileinyourvoice.Joshuaneedstolearnthis.
“LucindaHutton’sphone.Joshuaspeaking.Hold.”Hehitsabutton,andpointsatmewithhisreceiver.“Doit.I’mwatchingyou.”
Webothwatchtheholdlightflashing.
I’mstillthatsmilinggirlinthestrawberrypatch.Lookatme,I’magoodgirl.I’mthesweetlittlething,adoredbyeveryone.Nothingistoomuchtrouble.
“Iwanttoseeyoubeasstrongwithotherpeopleasyouarewithme.”
Ipresstheflashingbutton.“Hi,Julie,howareyou?”Myearnearlyburnsfromherdeepsigh.
“Hi,Lucy.I’mnotwell.I’mincrediblytired.Idon’tevenknowwhyIcamein.I’vejustsatdown,andalreadythescreeniskillingme.”
“Sorrytohearthat.”
IlockeyeswithJosh.Heintensifieshiseyesintonarrowedscarybluelasers.He’simbuingmewithhispowers.IamNOTgoingtocarewhatexcusesorrequestsshe’sgoingtomake.“WhatcanIdoforyoutoday,Julie?”Professional,butahintofwarmthinmytone.
“I’msupposedtobeworkingonthisthingforAlan,whichhe’sgoingtopolishupandsenduptoyou.”
“Oh,yes.Ineeditbycloseofbusiness.”
Joshgivesmeasarcasticthumbs-up.
“Well,I’mhavingabitoftroublefindingsomeoftheoldreportsinthenetworkdrive.Itkeepssayingshortcutmoved.Anyway,I’vetriedabunchofthingsandIthinkIneedtostepaway,youknow?”
“AslongasIgetitbyfive,it’sfine.”Joshlooksattheceilingandshrugs.IthoughtIwasbeingfirmthere,buthe’sunimpressed.
“Iwashopingtogohomeandgetitdonefirstthingtomorrow,whenI’mfresher.”
“Didn’tyoujustgethere?”AmIgoingcrazy?Irechecktheclock.
“Icameinquicklytocheckmyemail.”Hertoneisthatofanabsolutetrooper.
“AlansaiditwouldbeokayifIcleareditwithyoufirst.”She’sjinglinghercarkeysinthebackground.
Isteelmyselfwithblue-laserstrength.“I’msorry,that’snotgoingtoworkforme.Ineeditbyfive,please.”
“I’mawareofthedeadline,”shecounters,voicesharpeningbyonedegree.“I’mtryingtoletyouknowAlanisnotgoingtohaveittoyouontime.”
“Butit’sreallyyouwhoneedstheextension,notAlan.”ThereisalongpausewhileIwaitforhertospeak.
“Ithoughtyou’dbeabitmoreflexibleonthis.”Hertoneisslippingfurtherintoanimpressivecombinationofpetulanceandice.“Iamunwell.”
“Ifyoudoneedtogohome,”IbeginasIwatchJoshua’sbrowtransformintoascowl,“you’llneedtotaketodayassickleave,andbringadoctor’snote.”
“I’mnotgoingtothedoctorfortirednessandaheadache.He’lltellmetosleep.That’swhatIwanttogoanddo.”
“I’msympatheticifyou’refeelingunwell,butthat’stheHRpolicy.”Joshsmootheshishandoverhismouthtohidehisgrin.I’mplayingtheHRGamewithJulie.
“Sympathetic?Iwouldn’tcallthissympatheticatall.”
“I’vebeenfairwithyou,Julie.I’vegivenyouextensionsalotoftimes.ButIcan’tkeepstayinglatetofinishthesereports.”
Joshcircleshishandintheair.Ikeepgoing.“Ifit’slate,Ienduphavingtostayback.”
“Youdon’thaveanyfamilyhere,oraboyfriend,doyou?Latenightsdon’taffectyouliketheydoforpeoplewithhusbandsand…well,peoplewithfamilies.”
“Well,I’mnotgoingtogetmyselfahusbandoralifeifIkeepstayinguntilnineo’clockatnight,nowamI?I’llexpectthereportfromAlanatfive.”
“You’vespenttoomuchtimeinthecompanyofthathorribleJoshua.”
“Apparentlyso.Also,Ican’tdotheinternshipforyourniece,it’snotconvenientforme.”Iterminatethecall.
Joshualiesbackinhischairandstartslaughing.“Well,shit.”
“Iwasamazing,wasn’tI.Didyouseeme?”IpunchtheairandmimegivingJulieanuppercut.Joshrestshisfoldedhandsonhisstomachandwatchesmeshadowboxmyreflection.
“Takethat,Julie,andyourlifeandhusbandandyourphonysleepdisorder.”
“Letitallout.”
“Takethat,Julie,andyourme-graines.”
“Youreallywereamazing.”
“Takethat,Julie,andyourFrenchmanicure.”
“Okay.”He’ssmilingatme,openly,inthisexactofficethatwasonceabattlefield,andIflopbackdownintomychairandclosemyeyesandfeeltheglowofhispleasurefromacrossthemarblesuperhighway.Sothisiswhatitfeelslike.Thisiswhatitcouldhavebeenlike,allthistime.Itwasn’ttoolate.
“Nomorelatenightsforme.I’veprobablytotallydestroyedmyrelationshipwithher,butitwassoworthit.”
“You’llhavealifeandahusbandinnotime.”
“Notimeatall.Probablybynextweek.Ihopehe’ssupernice.”IopenmyeyesandthewayhelooksatmemakesmewishIhadn’tsaidit.Webothhesitate,andhiseyesflicksideways.I’veinterruptedourflow.
“Please,letmeenjoythismoment.JoshuaTemplemanisofficiallymyfriend.”Ilinkmyfingersandstretchmyarmsovermyhead.
“I’mgoingformybreakfastmeeting.Josh,Ineedthosefiguresbylunch,”Mr.Bexleysays,walkinginbetweenus.Ithinkweallknowthisbreakfastmeetingiswithaplateofbacon.
“They’realreadydone;I’llemailthemthroughnow.”
Mr.Bexleyharrumphs,Isupposehisbestattemptatthanksorpraise,andthenturnstome.
“Goodmorning,Lucy.Nicedressyou’vegotonthere.”
“Thanks.”
Ugh.
“Gotyournailssharpened,doyouthen?Interviewscomingsoon.Ticktock.”Heamblestotheedgeofmydeskandperusesmefromtheneckdown.Iresisttheurgetocrossmyarmsovermyself.Idon’tknowhowMr.Bexleyhasn’tnoticedJosh’smurderousglarerefracteddozensoftimes.Hecontinueshisusualgimlet-eyedassessmentofmyappearance.
“Don’t,”Joshsaystohisboss,voicemetallic.
“I’mprettywellpreparedfortheinterview.”Ilookdownatmyfront.“Mr.Bexley,whatareyoulookingat?”
IcalmlylevelmyeyesatMr.Bexley,andhephysicallyjolts.Hequicklyavertshiseyesandbeginstocombhisfingersthroughhissparsehair,hisfaceburnishedred.
Man,Ikickasstoday.
JoshclencheshisjawandlooksdownathisglassdesksoangrilyI’msurpriseditdoesn’tshatter.
“FromthelittlesneakpeekIhadinHelene’soffice,Idothinkyou’rewellprepared.DoctorJosh,wemayneedtodiscussstrategy.”
Holyshit.He’sgoingtotellJoshuaaboutmyproject.IswingmypanickedstaretoJosh,wholooksathisbosslikeheisanabsoluteidiot.
Andthenheremindsmethatno,heisnotmyfriend,andnomatterhowmuchkissingwedoonhiscouch,we’restillinthemiddleofourbiggestcompetition.
“I’mnotgoingtoneedanyhelpbeatingher.”Chapter18
He’scoldasiceandthetonegivesmeflashbacks.Hesaysitlikeitisthemostridiculousthinghe’severheard.SillylittleLucyHutton,impossibletotakeseriously,andabsolutelynomatchforJoshuaTemplemaninanyarena.I’majoke.I’mnotgettingthejob,becausewhywouldI?Ihavetobecoachedthroughaphonecall.
“Maybenot,”Mr.Bexleymuses.Clearlypleasedtohavekickedovertwobeehives,heplodsoff.Ashewaitsfortheelevator,helooksbackatus.
“Butthenagain,DoctorJosh,youmaywanttorethinkthat.”
TheelevatordoorclosesasJosh’ssilentlymouthedFuckyoufragmentsaroundus.Thenhelooksatme.
“Iwaslying.”
Thesilenceringslikecrystalwineglassestouchedtogether.
“Well,you’requiteagoodactor.Isurebelievedit.”Ipickupmybottleofwaterandsip,tryingtoeasetheangrytightnessinmythroat.I’mactuallygratefultohim.ThisiswhatI’vebeenmissing.We’retworacehorsespoundingtowardthefinishline.I’vebeenflagging,butI’vejustfeltthefirstlashofthewhip.IneedtoholdontothisfeelinguntilIwalkoutoftheinterview.
“Ialwayshavebeen.Iwasmadathimforlookingatyoulikethatanditcameoutwrong.I’vegotabadhabitofsnapping.Lookatme,Luce.”
WhenIdo,herepeatshimselfslowly.“Ididnotmeanit.”
“It’sallright.It’swhatIneeded.”Iusethesameflat,icytonethathe’djustusedwithBexley.IhavenoideahowIcanmakemyvoicesocoldwhenangerfeelslikeablowtorchinmychest.I’magoodactortoo.
Hisforeheadhashistrademarkcreaseofconcern.“Youneededthat?Mebeinganasshole?It’sallyouseemtogetfromme.”
“You’vejustgivenmewhatIneededtohear.”
Lifeisallaboutperspective,andifIchoosetobelieveI’vejustreceivedaboosttomymotivationfrommycompetitor,Icanignoremybruisedpride.Iamgoingtokeepmyfocusforward.Myfocusisnowalaserbeamthathehasgivenme.
Mycomputerchimes.FiveminutesuntilIhavemymeetingwithDannytodiscussworkingonmyebookproject.
“Wait.Weneedtoclearthisup.Ican’tquiteexplainityet,though.”Hisfacetwistsinagitation.“Thetimingisalloff.Ididn’tmeanitthewayitsounded.”
“I’mgoingout.”Ibegingatheringmybagandcoat.
“Andwhereareyougoing?IncaseHeleneasksme,”heamends.Helooksmiserable.“Areyoucomingback?”
“I’mmeetingsomeoneforcoffee.”
“Well,”Joshsaysafterasecond.“Ican’tstopyou.”
“Thankyouforallowingmetodomyjob.”Afterspitefullypushinghisin-trayscrookedImarchtotheelevator.
IwalktotheStarbucksacrossthestreet.ThethingaboutbeingincombatwithJoshuaTempleman?Inevertrulywin.That’swhatissodeceptiveaboutitall.ThemomentIthinkI’vewon,somethinghappenstoremindmeIhaven’t
Please,letmeenjoythismoment.JoshuaTemplemanisofficiallymyfriend.
It’snothingbutwin,thenlose,lose,lose.
Danny’salreadyataseatbythewindow.ThefactI’mlateisanothernailinmyprofessionalism’scoffin.
“Hi.Thanksformeetingme.SorryI’mlate.”
Iordercoffeeandthenbrieflyoutlinemyidea.
“I’vegottimethisweekend,”Dannyoffersnobly.He’sbeenlookingatmewithundisguisedinterest;mytied-uphair,mybarethroatandtheredofmymouth.Ihaveabadfeelinghe’shopingourbadkisswasablip.
“I’dbepayingyououtofmyownpocket.Canyougivemeanideaofhowmuch?”
Dannydoesn’tlookconcerned.“Whydon’twemakeadeal.Creditmyworkintheinterviewandmentionmynewself-publishingsoftwaretoHelene.Theremaybesomecross-functionalitiesthatcouldsuityourproject.And…threehundredbucks.”
“That’sfine,andofcourseIwill,”Irushtoassurehim.ThisissomethingIcando.Givehimalittleexposuretotheexec,andhelpbuildhisbusiness.
AcoupleofB&Gpeoplearequeuingforcoffeeandlookatuswithspeculativeglances.Anotherwalkspastonthestreetandwavesatme.I’msittinginabigglassfishbowl.MycheeksstarttoburnwhenIthinkabouteverythingI’vesaidanddonewithJoshuaonthetopfloor.Thebarbs,theinsults,thecircuit-fryingkisses.Inourownisolatedlittleworld,everythingseemedsonormalandacceptable.
“Thanksforthinkingofmeonthis.”Dannysipshiscoffee.
“Well,afterourdinneronMondayIknewIcouldtrustyouwithmylittlesecret.Andlikeyousaid,IneededsomehelpandyouwerethefirstpersonIthoughtof.”
“Oh,soit’sasecret?”
“Heleneknows,ofcourse.Mr.BexleyknowsabouttheprojectconceptbutnottheactualfinishedproductI’mhopingtopresent.”
IwishIdidn’thavetosaythisnextpart,andI’msadathowmessedupthissituationhasgotten.
“Ineedtoaskyoutoplease,don’tsayanythingtoJosh.Iknowyouwon’tseehimagain,butlet’skeepitbetweenus.He’ssosurehe’sgettingthejob.It’smoreimportantthaneverIbeathim.”
“Iwon’t.But,actually,he’soverthere.”
“What?”Inearlyscreamit.Ican’tturnaround.“Actbusinesslike.”IdrawadiagramonmynotepadandDannydrawssomeslashylinesonit.
“Whatishisdeal?Healwayslooksfurious.”Dannyshakeshisheadatmynotepadandwedoabitmorebusiness-miming.
“That’shisface.”
“Youguyshaveaweirddynamicgoingon.”
“There’snodynamic.Nodynamic.”Ibeginswiggingatmycoffee.It’stoohotandaterribleidea.
“Butyouknowhe’sinlovewithyou,right?”
Iinhalemyhugemouthfulandbegintodrownondryland.Dannyleansoverandthumpsmebetweenmyshoulderblades.Tearsarestreamingdownmyface.Iwishhe’dletmedie.
“He’snot,”Iwheeze.Iuseanapkintowipemyface.“ThatisthestupidestthingI’veeverheard.Ever.”
“Asyourfriend,”Dannyarticulateswithalittlesmile,“I’mtellingyouheis.”
“What’shedoing?”
“Scaringthecashiershitless.Peopleareconcernedabouthowthingswillbeifhegetsthejob.Weknowhowgoodatcuttingstaffheis.AfewguysindesignarebrushinguptheirCVs,incase.”
“I’msurehe’dbefinetoworkfor.”Imustermydiplomacy.Iwon’tstooptoJosh’slevel.Istandupandgathermythings.
“Let’ssayhitohim,”DannysaysandI’mprettysurehe’smessingwithme.Hismouthisliftedintoahalfsmile.
“No,we’regoingtoclimboutthebathroomwindow.Quick.”
Helaughsandshakeshishead.Onceagain,I’mimpressedbyhisbravery.Everyoneelsetriestoavoidthemonsterintheirmidst.ButIdoknowasecretaboutJosh.Ithinkofhimlastnight,takingmypulse,countingeachbeatofmyheart.Coveringmewithablanket,tuckingmyfeetin.It’squiteremarkablehowhe’smanagedtomaintainthisfrighteningfa?adeforsolong.
“Hi,”webothsayinunisonasweapproach.
“Well,hello,”Joshsaysarchly.
“Quitstalkingsomuch.”Mytoneissoaggrievedthatthegirlatthecoffeemachinelaughsoutloud.
Joshfixeshiscuff.“Missedeachother,didyou?”
IamlaseringthewordSECRETintoDanny’sbrain.Iraisemyeyebrowsandhenods.Joshwatchesthisexchange.
“Lucy’stalkingtomeaboutan…opportunityto…workwithher.”Dannyisagenius.Nothingismorebelievablethanthetruth.
“That’sright.Danny’shelpingmewithmy…presentation.”Wecouldn’tseemmoreshadyifwetried.
“You’reworkingonyourpresentation.Right.Okay.”Joshtakeshiscoffeewhenhisnameiscalledandgivessuchanaccusinglookmyfacenearlymeltsoff.“Andwerewedoingthattoo,Lucinda?Lastnightonmycouch?”
Danny’sjawhitsthefloor.Iamnotamused.Ifthisgotout,myreputationwouldbeinshreds.It’stoojuicy.Danny’sstillincontactwithtoomanypeopleindesign.Andhe’salsoasticky-nosedgossiphound.
“Inyourdreams,Templeman.Ignorehim,Danny.Walkbackwithme.”
ItugDannyaheadsohedoesn’tgettossedintooncomingtraffic.Joshfollowsatalanguidpace,sippinghiscoffee.I’mholdingDanny’sarmsotightlyhewincesasIdraghimacrosstheroad.
“Evenifhekidnapsandtorturesyou,don’ttellhimwhatyou’redoingforme.He’lluseeverybitofinformationhecantoscrewme.”
“Wow,youguysreallyaremortalenemies.”
“Yep,tothedeath.Pistolsandswordsatdawn.”
“Sohe’sdoingthistotrytofindoutyourinterviewstrategy?”Dannysayshitoacolleagueandcheckshisphone.
“Exactly!”Iletoutanervouswhinny.Ithinkeverythingiscoveredup.“I’llcallyouafterworkonceI’veworkedoutwhatbookIwantyoutoformatforme.”
Joshisnearlyuponus.I’mbeginningtothinkImighttossDannyintooncomingtrafficmyselftoendthisagonizinglittletableau.
“Okay,talktoyoutonight.Bye,Josh.Goodluckinyourinterview.”Dannycontinuesalongthefootpath.
JoshandIdon’tsayawordtoeachotheraswegetintotheelevator.He’ssolividit’savisceralthing.Meanwhile,I’mstillpartiallydeceasedbywhatDannysaid.Youknowhe’sinlovewithyou,right?
“He’ssonice.Whataniceguy.IthinkIgetwhatyouseeinhim.”HespeakssosharplyIbumpbackward.“Imusthavehadavividdreamlastnight.”
“Hey,whatcanIsay?Ilied.I’magoodactor.”Ispreadmyarmswideandpushaheadtomydesk.
“So,you’reembarrassedofme?”
“No.Ofcoursenot.Butnoonecanknow.Ithinkhe’sagossip.Oh,don’tgivemethatsourpussface.Peoplewilltalkaboutus.”
“Newsflash,peoplehavealwaystalkedaboutus.Andyoudon’tcareifpeopletalkaboutyouandhim,butnotyouandme?”
“YouandIworktenfeetfromeachother.It’sdifferent.Iwanttoreestablishsomelevelofprofessionalisminthisoffice.”
Joshpinchesthebridgeofhisnose.“Fine.I’llplayityourway.Ifthisisthelastpersonalconversationweeverhaveinthisbuilding,thenI’lltellyounow.BringyourbagonFriday.”
“What?What’shappeningonFriday?”
“Bringinyourstuffforthewedding.Yourdressandstuff.”
Atmywalleyedstare,heremindsme.“You’recomingtomybrother’swedding.Youinsisted,remember?”
“Wait,whyamIbringingmydressonFriday?TheweddingisonSaturday.Istherearehearsal?Ididn’tagreetogototheweddingtwice.”
“No.TheweddingisatPortWorthandwehavetodrivethere.”
Ilookathim,doubtful.“That’snottoofaraway.”
“Farenoughawaythatweneedtoleaveafterwork.Momneedsmyhelpwithafewthingsthenightbefore.”
I’mfilledtothebrimwithannoyance,terror,hurtfeelings,andabsolutecertaintythisisgoingtobeadisaster.Westareintoeachother’seyes.
“Iknewyouwouldn’tbehappybutIalsowasn’texpectingsuchcompletehorror.”Joshleansbackinhischairandassessesme.“Don’tfreakout.”
“We’veneverevengonetoamovietogether,ortoarestaurant.Iwasnervousgettingarideinyourcar.Andnowyou’retellingmeI’mdrivingseveralhourswithyouandtobringmypj’s?Wherearewestaying?”
“Probablyaseedyhotel.”
Iamclosetohyperventilating.Iamthisclosetorunningdownthefireescape.I’vehadafairideawe’datsomepointgetaroundtoplayingtheOrSomethingGame.Iimagineditinhisbluebedroom,orwhilehissinghurtfulinsultsathiminthecleaner’scloset.Buttoomuchhashappenedtoday.
“Iwaskidding,Lucy.Ihavetotalktomymomaboutwherewe’restaying.”
“Ididn’tproperlythinkaboutmeetingyourparents.Look,I’mnotcoming.Youwerearealassholetomejustnow,remember?Youdon’tneedhelpbeatingme,remember?I’dhavetobecrazytohelpyounow.Gobyyourselflikeabigloser.”
“Youmadethecommitment.Youpromised.Youneverbreakyourword.”
Ishrugandmymoralfibersstrainuncomfortably.“LikeIcare.”
Hedecidestoplayhisacecard.“You’remydesignatedmoralsupport.”
Itisthemostintriguingthinghecouldhavegonewith.Ican’tresist.
“Whyexactlydoyouneedmoralsupport?”Hedoesn’tanswer,butshiftsuncomfortablyinhisseat.
Iraisemyeyebrowsuntilherelents
“I’mnotdraggingyoualongasmysexslave.Iwon’tlayafingeronyou.Ijustcan’twalkinwithoutadate.Andthat’syou.Youoweme,remember?Ihelpedyouvomit.”
HelookssogrimIhaveachillofforeboding.
“Moralsupport?Willitbesobad?”
Hiscellbeginstoring,andhelooksbetweenitandme,torn.
“Theissuehereistiming.Ihavetotakethis.”
Hewalksdownthehallway,andIresignmyselftolookinguptheroute,becauseunfortunatelyit’strue.Ipromised.
ONCE,ATINYeternityago,Icouldlieonmycouchlikeanyotherperson.IcouldwatchTV,eatsnacks,andpaintmynails.IcouldcallValandwe’dgotryonclothes.ButnowthatI’manaddict,Ihavetohangontothecushionswithmychippedfingernailstostopmyselffromstandingup,puttingshoeson,andrunningtoJosh’sbuilding.Theeffortismakingmeache.Iweighmyselfdownwithmylaptoponmychestandhalfheartedlyflickbetweennewssites,myinterviewpresentation,Smurfauctions,andmyfavoriteretro-dorkclothingsite.
Igetapop-upnotificationthatmyparentshavejustloggedintoSkype,andIdialsoquicklythatit’salittleembarrassing.Mymotherappearsonscreen,frowningandtooclose.
“Stupidthing,”shemutters,andthenbrightens.“Smurfette!Howareyou?”
“Fine,howareyou?”Beforesherepliesthescreenfillswiththeflyofherjeansasshestandsupandcallsoutrepeatedlytomydadforoneverylongminute.Nigel!Nigel!Eventhefamiliartoneandcadencehervoicetakeshasmeshrivelinginhomesickness.Finally,shegivesup.
“Hemuststillbeoutinthefield,”shetellsme,sittingbackdown.“He’llwanderinsoon.”
Welookateachotherforalongmoment.It’ssoraretohavehertomyself,withoutmydad’sgale-forcepersonalitypropellingtheconversation,thatIhardlyknowwheretostart.Ican’tseemtotalkabouttheweather,orhowbusyI’vebeen.AshershrewdblueeyesnarrowasIchoosemywords,IrealizeI’dbetteraskthequestionI’vebeentorturingmyselfwithfortheselastfewweeks,andperhapsallofmylife.It’ssomethingIshouldhaveaskedheryearsago.
“BeforeIwasborn,andwhenyoumetDad…howcouldyougiveupyourdream?”
Thequestionclangsinthedeadstaticairbetweenherandme.Shedoesn’tspeakforalongmoment,andIthinkmaybeI’vesaidsomethingIreallyshouldn’t.Whenshelockseyesagainwithme,hergazeissteadyandresolute.
“Ifyou’reaskingmeifIregretmychoice?No.”Shesitsbackintoherchair,Isitupproperlyonthecouch,andsuddenlyit’slikethere’snoscreenbetweenus.Noframesurroundingherface,ormine,andnostrangelyintrusivepreviewscreendistractinguswithourownfaces.IfeellikeIcouldreachoutandtakeherhand.It’stheclosestwe’vebeensinceIsawherlast,whenIhuggedherattheairportandbreathedhershampooandsunshinesmell.Iwatchherthinking,andtheclockistickingbeforemydadwalksinandinterrupts.
“HowcanIregretitforasecond?Ihaveyourfather,andIhaveyou.”It’stheanswerandthesmileIknewshe’dgiveme.Howcanshesayanythingdifferently?
“Butdon’tyouwonderwhereyou’dbenowifyouchoseyourcareerinsteadofhim?”
Sheavoidsansweringagain.“Isthisaboutyourjobinterview?Areyouworriedaboutwhathappensifyoumissyourbigchance?”
“Somethinglikethat.I’vejuststartedthinkingthatevenifIgetit,Icouldloseoutonother…opportunities.”
“Idon’tthinkyouneedtogiveupyourdreamforanything.Youwantthis,Icanseeit.Icanhearitinyourvoice.Timeshavemovedon,honey.Youdon’thavetogiveupanything.Youdon’thavetomakeachoicelikemine.Youjustneedtogiveityourall.”
Adoorbangsinthebackgroundonherendoftheconversation,andhereyesflickoffscreen.“That’syourdad.”
I’mstartingtofeelfrantic.Ican’ttellheraboutthechangeinmyrelationshipwithJosh,ourcompetition,andwhatIwilllosenomatterwhattheoutcomeis.There’snotime.There’sonlytimeforthis.
“IfIwereinthesameposition,walkingthroughanorchard,possiblyabouttoderailmyselfsomehow,whatwouldyoutellmetodo?”
ShelooksoffscreenandIcanhearheavybootsclompingupthestairstotheoffice.Heranswerconvincesmeofthecherryseedofwhatifthathasalwaysbeenlodgedinherheart.“Foryou?I’dtellyoutokeepwalking.Iwantthingsforyou.Keepyoureyeontheprizeandwhateveryoudo,justkeepwalking.”
“What’sgoingon?”Dadappears,kissingthetopofmymom’shead,andheseesmeonthescreen.“Youshouldhavecomegotme!How’smygirl?ReadytobeatJimmyattheinterview?Imaginehisfacewhenyougetit.Icanjustseeitnow.”HedropsintotheseatbesideMomandthenbeamsattheceiling,relishingmyfictionalvictoryandhisowncleverness.
Icanseeitonthetinypreviewscreen;myfacefalls.ItcouldbeseenfromspaceandMomdefinitelyseesit.“Oh.Iseenow.Lucy,whydidn’tyousay?”
Dadforgesonwardwithoutaresponsefromme.Nexttopic.“Whenareyoucominghome?”
IadmitIpauseforasecondlonger,forgreatereffect.
“Thelongweekend.”It’stheanswerthatmyhearthasbeenachingtogive,andwhenIwatchmydad’sfacebreakintohischipped-toothgrinI’mgladI’vesaidit.Momcontinuestoholdmygaze,steady.
“Justkeepwalking,unlesswhat’supthattreeisasspecialasthis.”
“Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?Didyouhearher?She’scominghome!”Dad’sseatsqueaksundertherhythmofhischairdancing,andjustlikemymom,I’matthegatesofafrighteninglymomentousorchard,andIneedtofocusmygazeforwardonthefarexit,laserstrong,neverlookingup.
IT’SFRIDAY.ITshouldbeaterriblemustardshirttoday,butit’snot.Ihavemybagpackedinthetrunkofmycar,andoverthepasttwodaysI’vebeensonervousaboutthisweekendIhaven’tbeenabletostomachsolids.I’vesubsistedentirelyonsmoothiesandtea.Islepttwohourslastnight.
It’sareliefthatwe’reatthispoint.Thesoonerweleavehere,thesoonerwecangetitoverwith.Mymindhasruneveryscenariopossible,inmydreams,inmyeverywakingmoment.AndtheonlycertaintyIhaveis,whateverhappens,itwillallbeoversoon.
JoshhasbeeninMr.Bexley’sofficeforoveranhour.There’sbeenraisedvoices,Mr.Bexleyshouting,andsilence.Ithasn’thelpedmyanxietylevel
Helenewentinearliertointervene.Morechillingly,Jeanettehustledpastmeaboutforty-fiveminutesagoandsteppedintothefray.MaybeJosh’sstrategyinvolvesmajorworkforcecutsandshewascalledintoconsult.
Whensheleft,shepausedbymydesk,andlookedatme,andlaughed.Itwasthekindoflaughtingedbyhysteria,likeshe’sjustheardthefunniestthing.
“Goodluck,”shetellsme.“You’regoingtoneedit.ThisisbeyondHR.”
We’vebeenfoundout.SomeonehasseenmeandJoshtogether,andwe’rebusted.Dannyhastoldsomeone.It’sout.Thisscenariowasn’tinthemix.Ileandownandpressmycheekboneagainstmyknee.Breathein,breatheout.
“Darling!”Heleneisalarmedwhenshewalkstomydesk.Myvisionisgray.Itrytostandandweaveonthespot.Shemakesmesitbackdownandhandsmemywaterbottle.
“Areyouallright?”
“I’mgoingtofaint.What’sgoingoninthere?”
“They’retalkingabouttheinterviews.Josh’sideaforthefuturedoesn’tquitealignwithBexley’s.”
Shepullsoverachairandsitsbesideme.I’mabouttobefired.Ibeginwheezing.
“AmIintrouble?Ishedoingsomekindofpre-interview?Whyaren’tIdoingone?AndwhywasHRinvolved?Ikepthearingshouting.AndJeanettesaidsomethingspooky.AbouthowIwasgoingtoneedluck.AmIintrouble?”IendonthesamepitifulnoteIbegan.
“Ofcoursenot.It’sabadargumentthey’rehavinginthere,darling.Theyhavedisagreementsallthetime.IthoughtitbesttobringJeanetteuptoremindthemofprofessionaletiquette.Nothingworsethantwomenbarkingateachotherlikedogs.”
Heleneislookingatmestrangely.Imustlookterrible.
“Ishe…”Ibiteoffthewords,butshewon’tletmegetawaywithit.
“Ishewhat?”
“Isheokay?Is…Joshokay?”Shenods,butthethingis,Iknowhe’snot.Thelasttwodayshavebeenexhausting.Joshhasbeennothingbutgravecivility,butIcannowreadthenuancesofhisfacebetterthanever.He’swornout.Sad.Stressed.Hecan’tdecidewhat’sworse;eyecontact,ornone.
AndIunderstand.Ireallydo.
IfindifIkeepmyeyesoffhim,andfixedonmycomputerscreen,there’slesschanceoffeelingmystomachflip.IcankeepthebutterfliesoutofmysystemifIcanavoidseeingtheblueofhiseyesortheshapeofhismouth.ThemouthIhavekissed,overandover.Noonecankissmelikehedoes,andit’smoreprooftheworldisunfair.
Thehurtoverhiscomment,I’mnotgoingtoneedanyhelpbeatingher,hasdulledintoacallusIcan’tstoppressing.Whatashittythinghesaid.Butiftheroleshadbeenreversed,anditwasHeleneouttheretormentingus,who’stosayIwouldn’thavesaidtheexactsamething?I’mnottheblamelesslittlevictiminourprivatewar.
We’relikethisbecausewe’vefoundsomeonewhocantakeitasgoodastheycandishitout.AndI’llguaranteeonething.I’mgoingtodishitoutattheinterview.Eveninmydreams,IknowtheanswerI’llgivetoanyquestiontheyask.Hesurewillneedhelpbeatingme.Heleneiswatchingme,hereyessoftwithempathy.
“It’ssweetyou’reconcernedforhim,darling,butJoshisabigboy.YoushouldbemoreconcernedaboutBexley.IknowwhoI’dputmymoneyon.”
“ButwhyisMr.Bexley—”
“Ican’tsay.It’stheirconfidentialbusiness.Let’stalkaboutyourinterview.HowdidthemeetingwithDannygo?”
“It’sgoingwell.He’sgoingtodothatoldthrillerBloodsummerinebookforme.Itwasmydad’sfavoritebook.He’sdoingitovertheweekend,andgavemeanincrediblerate.”
“Well,that’sgoodofhim.Ifthepresentationimpressesthepanel,maybehe’llendupgettingsomeconsultingworkoutofus.Howisyourdad?Whenareyougoingtogohome,darling?Yourparentsmustbemissingyou.”
“Thelongweekendthat’scomingup.That’swhenIneedtogo.Actually,I’dliketotakeaweek.”Inthepausethatfollows,Irealizethatmyusualcaveatofifthat’sokaydidn’tattachitselftothatstatement.Theoldmeisshakingherheadindisbelief.
Ilookatmylovely,generousfriendandlikeIknewshewould,shenods.“That’sfine.Takeabreakbeforethenewjobbegins.”Herfaithinmehasneverwavered.
Mynewfoundassertivenessdoesn’thelpmeshakethefeelingsomethingbadisgoingon.IlookatMr.Bexley’scloseddooragain.
“Gohome,darling.NooneshouldringthislateonaFridayanyway.Itshouldbeillegal.Whatareyouuptothisweekend?”Ihavetheweirdestfeelingthatshe’stestingme.
Unlessit’stoJosh,Ican’tlieproperly.“IthinkI’mgoingonaroadtripwitha…friend.Actually,notafriend.ButIcan’tquitedecideifIshould.”
ThewordfriendfeelslikeaforeignwordI’vemispronounced.Frand.Shecatchesthepause,andsmiles.
“Youshouldgo.Ihopeyouhaveawonderfultimewithyourfriend.Youneedone.Iknowyou’vebeenlonelysincethemerger,whenyoulostyourValerie.”
Unexpectedly,shetakesmyshouldersinherhands,andkissesbothofmycheeks.“Icanseeyourbrainworking.Ithinkjustforthisweekendyouneedtoputitallaside.Forgettheinterview.Oneday,thisinterviewwillbeafaintmemory.”
“Hopefullyagoodmemory.Atriumphantmemory.”
“It’suptotherecruitmentgodsnow.Iknowyou’vedoneallyoucan.”
Ihavetoadmitit’strue.“Aslongastheebookformattingdoesn’tscrewup,I’dbereadytobeinterviewednow.”
“I’myourboss,andIamorderingyoutolivealittlethisweekend.You’refadingawaytheselastfewdays.Lookatyoureyes.Allred.YoulookasbadasJoshdoes.We’vedrivenyoubothtoanervousbreakdown,announcingthepromotion.”Shepurseshermouthunhappily.
“TherearemomentswhenIwishthishadneverhappened.Noneofit.Themerger.Thisoffice.Thispromotion.It’sendingsomething,andI’mnotreadyyet.”
“I’msorry.”Shepatsmyhand.“Sosorry.”
“I’vebeengettingmyfilinguptodate,incaseIhavetoleave.I’veemailedmyCVtofiveorsixrecruitmentfirms.I’vecleanedoutmydrawers.I’mprettymuchpacked.Justincase.”
HelenelooksatJosh’sdesk,whichseemsevenmoresanitizedthanusual.He’sbeendoingthesame.Youcouldperformsurgeryonhisdesk.
“Ican’tloseyou.We’dfindyousomewhereelseinanotherteam.Somewhereyou’dbehappy.Idon’twantyoutobefrettingallweekend,thinkingyouhavenooptions.”
“ButhowcouldIbumpintothenewCOOintheelevator?Howhumiliating.”
Icanimagineitnow.Theheatwouldriseinmybody,andthetinyhairsonmyskinwouldriseinmemory.He’dlookdownatme,eyescoollyprofessional.I’dgreethimpolitelyandrememberhowhepressedmeagainstanelevatorwallonceinatotalgamechanger.ThenI’dreachmyfloorandleavehimbehindtocontinuehisjourneyupward.
It’sbettertoleaveherecompletelythanhavetolookathimacrossboardroomtablesandglimpsehiminthebasementparkinglot.He’llfindanewwomantotormentandfascinate.OnedayImightseeagoldringonhishand.
“WhywouldIkeeptorturingmyselflikethat?”
Ithinkmyexpressionmustbestark,becauseHelenemakesanattempttocheerme.
“Livealittle,thisweekend.Trustme.Itwillworkoutforthebest.”
“I’llputthephonesthroughtomycellandletyouknowifanythingurgentcomesin.”
Ineedtogodownstairstomycar.Iwanttoopenthetrunk,lookatmypackedbag,andtrytododgethebigquestionalittlelonger.ThehowdoIfeelaboutJoshquestion.Mycarkeysglowinmybag.Icouldgetinmycar,anddrive.
IpatmypocketsandrealizeI’vegotamajorproblem.Mycellphoneisgone.Ilookundermydesk,inmybag,infolders,andpaperwork.Ican’tevenrememberthelasttimeIsawit.
Ifinditbesidethesinkintheladiesroom.WhenIreturntomydesk,JoshisemergingfromhismeetingwithMr.Bexleywithoutahairoutofplace.Chapter19
Whatwasallthatabout?”Ihugthebackofmychair.
“Professionaldisagreement.”Heliftsashouldercarelessly,remindingmeofwhathe’swearing.Whenhewalkedintoday,hewaswearingapalegreenshirtI’veneverseenbefore.I’vespenttodaytryingtodecideifit’saharbingerofdoom,orifIloveit.
“What’swiththegreenshirt?”
“Greenseemedappropriate,givenmylittlesceneinStarbucks.”
Mr.Bexleyputshisheadoutofhisoffice,looksatusboth,andshakeshishead.“Hellinahandbasket.Itellyou,hellinahandbasket.”
AwitchyShakespeareancronehasnothingonhimrightnow.
Joshlaughs.“Richard,please.”
“Shutyourmouth,Bexley,”IhearHelenecallfaintly.Heharrumphsandslamshisofficedoor.Joshlooksathisdeskandpicksuphistinofmints,pocketingthem.Heflickshisphonetovoicemailandpusheshischairin.ItlooksexactlylikehisdeskonthefirstdayImethim.Sterile.Impersonal.Hewalkstothewindowandlooksoutside.
It’sthatfirstmomentalloveragain.I’mstandingbymydesk,nervesshreddingmefromtheinsideout.There’sahugemanbythewindowwithglossydarkhair,hishandsinpockets.Asheturns,Iprayhe’snotasgorgeousasIthinkheis.ThelightcatcheshisjawandI’mprettysure.
Whenthoseeyeshitme,Iknow.
Helooksatme.Topofmyheadtothetipsofmyshoes.Saythewords,Ithinkdesperately.You’rebeautiful.Please,let’sbefriends.
“Tellmewhatthehellisgoingon.”
“I’msworntoconfidentiality.”
Inacleverstrategy,hehasutilizedtheonethingheknowsIwon’targueagainst.
“Tellmetheyjustdidn’tinformallyofferyouthejob.”
“No,theydidn’t.”
Ilowermyvoicetoawhisper.“Dotheyknowabout…us?”
“No.”
Mytwobigfearsseemunfounded.
“So…howarewegettingoutofhere?DoIstillhaveto?”
“Yes.Thatthingoverthere”—hepointsasheunhooksmycoatfromthehanger—“isanelevator.You’vebeeninitbefore.Withme,infact.I’llstepyouthroughtheprocess.”
“Whatifsomeoneseesus?”
“Yousaythatnow?Lucinda,you’repriceless.”
Islapmykeyboardtolockmycomputer,snatchmyhandbagandclatterafterhim.Itrytotugmycoatfromhisarmbutheshakeshisheadandtuts.Theelevatordoorsopenandhetugsmein,hishandatmywaist.
IturnandseeHelene,leaningonherdoorframe,herpostureoneofcasualamusement.Shethenthrowsherheadbackandlaughsindelight,clappingherhandstogether.HewavestoHeleneasthedoorsclose.
Iusebothhandstopushhimtotheothersideoftheelevator.“Getoverthere.Welooksoobvious.Sheheardus.Shesawus.You’recarryingmycoat.Sheknowsyou’dneverdothat.”I’malmosthoarsewithembarrassment.
“Newsflash,Iamdoingthat.”Hecircleshisfingerovertheemergencystopbutton.Igrabhishandinasteelygrip.Ithinkhesuppressesalaugh.
WhenwegettothebasementIcreepoutahead.“We’reclear.”
Igotomycarandunlockthetrunk.Mysuitcaseislyingcrookedandupsidedownanditfeelslikeasign.Iwanttoleapintomycar,screechout,andlosehiminahigh-speedchase.Asquicklyastheimageforms,hishandmaterializes,reaches,takesmysuitcase,andwalksofftohiscar.Isnatchupmygarmentbag,lockmycar,andthenrealizesomething.
“Ifweleavemycarhere,Helenewillknow.She’llseeit.”
“Shouldwehideitundersomebranchesinaforest?”
Whatanexcellentidea.Irubmystomach.“Idon’t…”
“Don’tevensayyoudon’twanttodothis.It’salloveryourface.Idon’twanttodothiseither.Butwe’regoing.”
He’sgettingalittleterse.Mybelongingsareinhistrunk,myhandbagisonthepassengerseat.
“CanItakemycarhome?”
“Yeah,right.You’llescape.IfanyoneasksonMonday,sayitbrokedownagain.It’stheperfectalibi,becauseyourcarisshit.”
“Josh…I’mfreakingout.”Ihavetoputmyhandsonthedoorofhiscartosteadymyself.IfIthoughtthingsweregoingtoofastbefore,it’sallhittingwarpspeed.Hepullsoffhistieandundoestwobuttons.He’sbeautiful,eveninthisdreadfulbasement.
“Yes,that’sobvious.”Hislittlebrow-creaseisdeepening.“Iamtoo.Youlookexhausted.”
“Icouldn’tsleep.Whyareyoufreakingout?”
Heignoresme.“Youcansleepinthecar.”Heopensthedoorforme.HetriestofoldmeinbutIdigmyheelsin.
“Theinterview.Thejob.”
“Fuckit.Theinterviewwillhappen.Wewilldealwiththeoutcome.”Hetakesmyshouldersinhishands.
“It’snotthateasy.Ilostsomeoneimportanttomeinthemerger,myfriendVal.Ikeptmyjob,shelostherjob,andnowwe’renolongerfriends.Justasanexample,”Ihastilytackon.InearlytoldJoshuaTemplemanthatheisimportant.Ijusthintedthatwe’refriends.Henarrowshiseyes.
“Shesoundslikeanasshole.”
“It’swhyI’malonelyloser.Look,I’mmeetingyourfamilytomorrow.Let’sfaceit,we’realmostcertainlyseeingeachothernakedsometimesoon.Tinybitofpressure.”
Heignoresmeagain.“Thisisourlastchancetosortourshitout.”
Istillhesitate,stubbornasamule
“Thisweekendisgoingtobehardforme.Butwithyouthere,maybeitwon’tbesobad.”
Maybeit’sthesurpriseofthatlittleadmission,butmykneesweakenenoughtoallowmetogetintothecarandmomentarilyrelinquishcontroltothelastpersonIeverthoughtIwould.
Ifeelweakwithdefeat.Evenwhenpackingmybagandbuyingadress,I’dfeltsureI’dfindsomelast-minutewaytoescapeorgetoutofit.Onlyinmyworst-case-scenarioimaginingsdidIthinkI’dbeinhiscar,exitingtheB&Gundergroundparkinglot.
Thesundropslowerintheskyashedrivesusthroughtheheavyafternoontraffic.Itseemslikeeveryoneinthecityhashadthesameidea:It’stimetoescapeintothepale,prettyhills.
Ihavetobreakthisawkwardsilence.“Sohowlongisthisdrive?”
“Fourhours.”
“GoogleMapssaysfive,”Isaywithoutthinking.
“Yeah,ifyoudrivelikeagrandmother.GladI’mnottheonlyonewho’sdonesomehometowncyber-stalking.”
Hesighsasacarcutsusoff,braking.“Asshole.”
“Howarewegoingtopassfourhours?”IknowwhatIwanttodo.Liehereinthiswarmleatherseatandstareathim.Iwanttoleanacrossandpressmyfaceagainstthefirmpadofhisshoulder.Iwanttobreathe,andimprintitallintomymemory,forwhenIneeditoneday.
“Wemanageitallthetime.”
“So,wherearewestaying?Pleasedon’tsayyourparents’house.”
“Myparents’house.”
“Ohholyfuck.Why?Why?”Iscrabbleuprightinmyseat.
“I’mkidding.Theweddingreception’satahotel.Patrickhasmadeabookingofabunchofrooms.Wementiontheweddingwhenwecheckin.”
“Isitseedy?”
“Sorry,no,notremotely.I’llmakesureyougetyourownroom.”
Seemshe’sdeadseriousabouthispromisetonotlayafingeronme.It’sabucketofcoldwateronthefireburninginmychest,andI’mleftwiththecharredremains,unsureifI’mrelieved.
“Whydon’tyoustaywithyourparentsthen?”
Henods.“Idon’twantto.”HismouthturnsdownunhappilyandIimpulsivelypathisknee.
“I’vegotyourbackthisweekend,okay?Likeatpaintball.Buttheofferstandsforthisweekendonly.”
“Thanksforcoveringforme.Youtookalotofhits.Istilldon’tknowwhyyoudidit,though.”
Hesquintsagainstthesun,andIfindapairofsunglassesintheglovecompartment.Ihuffonthemandpolishthemwithmysleeve.
“Well,you’dmademethelastpersontogofortheflag.Themostexpendable.”
“Ididitbecauseyoulookedlikeyouwereabouttokeelover.Thanks.”Hetakestheglasses.
“Oh.Ithoughtitwasanotheroneofyourlittletricks.Noonecoveringforme.LucyHutton,humanshield.”
“Iwasalwayscoveringforyou.”Hecheckshismirrorandchangeslanes.
There’salittlecandlelightflickerinthevicinityofmyheart.“Youshouldseemybruises,though.”
“Isawafewofthem.”
“Oh,right.WhenyoutookoffmySleepysaurustop.”Irestmycheekontheseatandopenmyeyes.We’restoppedatatrafficlight,andIseethelittlesmilelinenearthecornerofhismouth.
“YouhavenoideahowmuchIregretyouseeingmypajamatop.MymomgaveittomeafewChristmasesback.”
“Oh,don’tbeself-consciousaboutit.Itlooksgreatonyou.”
Ilaughandalittleofthestressleavesme.Thecitybleedsintosuburbs,andthesunbeginstosetaswewindthroughvasttracksofgreen.I’veneverbeenoutthisfar.Ineedtostartlivingmylife,ratherthanwalkingthesamepath,inandoutofB&G,likealittlehighlandsheep.
“Soyou’vesaidI’mcomingalongformoralsupport.Willyoutellmewhy?IfeellikeIneedtobeforewarnedandforearmed.”
“Ihave…”hebegins,andsighs.
“Baggage?”Ihazard.“Who’sthisabout?”
“It’slargelyjustaboutme.Imadesomemistakesanddidn’ttryhardenoughonsomethingimportant.NowIhavetogoandhaveitrubbedinmyfacealittle.It’sjustgoingtostingabit.”
“Medicine.”WithoutthinkingIreduceitdowntooneword.“I’msorry.Thatwasinsensitive.”
“You’retalkingtothekingofinsensitive,remember?”Herollshisshoulders,desperatetochangethesubject.Itakepity.
“Ishouldcomeouthereontheweekendanddosomeexploring.Icouldbuysomestufftodecoratemyapartment.”Ilookathimsideways.Fishingforanantiquingpal?Seriously,Lucy,getittogether.
“Well,I’msureyournewgoodfriendDannywouldlovetodriveyou.”
Icrossmyarmsandwedon’ttalkfortwenty-threeminutes,accordingtohisperfectlyaccuratedigitaldisplay.
Ibreakunderthesilencefirst.“Beforethisweekendisover,Iamgoingtocrackopenyourhead.Iamgoingtoworkoutwhatisgoingoninyourevilbrain.”
“That’sfine.”
“I’mserious,Josh.Youaredestroyingmysanity.”Ileanforwardandputmyelbowsonmykneesandrubmyface
“Myevilbrainisthinkingaboutgrabbingsomedinnersoon.”
“Mineisthinkingaboutstranglingyou.”
“I’mthinkingifweplungeoffabridgeIwon’thavetogotothiswedding.”Helooksatme,perhapsonlyhalfjoking.
“Oh,great.Watchtheroadoryourwishwillcometrue.”Whenwedocrossabridge,Isupervisehimwithsuspicion.
“I’mthinkingabout…mycar’sfuelconsumption.”
“Thankyouforsharingthesevaluableinsightsintowhatmakesyoutick.”
Heglancesatme,considering.“I’mthinkingaboutkissingyou,onmycouch.Ithinkaboutitdisturbinglyoften.Ikeepthinkingabouthowweirditwillbetospendmydaysnotsittingacrossfromyou.”
Thethingaboutthetruthis,it’saddictive.
“Moreofyourbraincontents.”
Joshsmilesatmydemand.“I’veneverhadsomeonetrytodothisbefore.”
“What,breakyourskullopen?I’lluseahammerifIhaveto.”
“Gettoknowme.AndIneverthoughtitwouldbeyou.”
“Doyouwantmetostop?”
Ialmostcan’thearhisreply,it’ssoquiet.“No.”
Iswingmyheadaway,pretendingtolookatthescenery.Weparkinfrontofatruckstopdinerandhetouchesmyhand.Whathesaysnextmakesmyheartcracklebrightwithstupidhope,eventhoughIknowhe’skidding.
“Comeon.It’stimeforaromanticdinnerdate.”
OnmyfirstfakedatewithJoshuaTempleman,theboothsaretakensowesitsidebysideatthecounter.MyfeetdanglelikeI’mfiveyearsoldasIperchonthestool,whichhehelpedmeuponto.WeorderandIimmediatelyforgetwhatI’mgoingtohave.HerestshischinonhispalmandweplaytheStaringGametopassthetime.
Icouldgetthroughthisweekendifhedidn’thavesuchbeautifulhands.Orsuchalovelyscenttohisskin.Myeyesgoonalittlewalkingtour.Thetubelightsturnanybodyelsesallow,meincluded,butsomehowheglowswithvitality.Inoticethefaintestsmatteringoffrecklesacrossthebridgeofhisnose.Imusthavehadmyhate-gogglesonduringmostofourworkingrelationship,becauseinallhonesty,I’veneverseenamanthisgood-lookinginperson.
Everythingabouthimispleasurable.Hedripswithquality,luxury,everythingsoexactlyright.Everypartofhimisengineeredandmaintainedperfectly.Ican’tbelieveIwastedallthistimenotadmiringhim.
“You’relikeabeautifulracehorse.”Isigh,alittlegarbled.Ishouldhavetriedtogetsomesleeplastnight
Heblinks.“Thankyou.Yourbloodsugarisbottomingout.You’reallwhite.”
It’sprobablytrue.Mystomachmakesagoblinnoise.AbunchoflaughingcollegeguyswalkpasttoocloseandJoshputshishandonthesmallofmyback.Justlikearealdatewould;protective,tellingthem,Mine.Thenheordersmeanorangejuiceandmakesmedrinkit.Ihearatruckerrepressabelchandthenletitoutslowlywithagroan.Thefryerssizzleinthebackgroundlikeradiostatic.
“Lacksacertainambience,”Joshsaystome.“I’msorry.Crappydate.”
Thewaitresslooksathimsidelongforthefifthtime,hertonguelickingidlyatthecornerofhermouth.Itouchhiswristandendupholdingit.
“It’sfine.”
OurfoodarrivesandIcrammygrilledcheesesandwichintomyface,havingtoremindmyselftochew.He’sorderedsomesortofgrilledchickenbreast.Thenextfewminutesarenothingbutabluroftasteandsalt.Hestealsacoupleoffriesfrommyplatelikeit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
“Wheredoyougotoeatlunch?I’vealwayswondered.”
“Igotothegymatlunch.Irunfourmiles,shower,andhaveabigproteinshakeonthewalkback.”
“Fourmiles?Areyoutrainingfortheapocalypseorsomething?MaybeIshoulddothattoo.”
“I’vegottoomuchrestlessenergy.”
“Youmightsnapandkillmeifyoudidn’t.Yourbodyisinsane.Youknowit,right?I’vebarelyseenhalfaninchofactualskin,butitisinsane.”
Joshlooksatmelikeit’sthecraziestthinghe’severheard.Hetakesasipofhisdrinkandlooksself-conscious.
“Iamsomuchmorethanmyinsanebody.”Thereismock-dignityinhisvoice,andhesoundssoprissythatwebothlaugh.Ismoothmyhanddownhisarm,shouldertowrist.
“Iknow.Youreallyare.You’retoomuchforthislittlepipsqueak.”
“No,I’mnot.Iwantedtoaskyouifyou’restillangryabouttheotherday.WhatIsaidtoBexleyaboutnotneedingtobeatyou.”
“What’sthesaying?Don’tgetmad,geteven.”Ipushmyplateawayandlickallmyfingers.Iatemymeallikeabarnanimal.“Youwerewrong,youknow.You’regoingtoneedhelpbeatingme.I’mgoingtofightforit.”
Idrainmysecondglassoforangejuice,thenmywater,andthenhis.
“Dulynoted.”Hescrunchesanapkinaroundhisfingertips.“Wow,youeatlikeaViking.”
“Forthisweekend?Icallacease-fire.Thisweekendwe’reus.”
“Whoelsewouldwebe?”
“BandGemployees.Competitors.ForbiddenHRrule-breakers.Mortalenemies.Ohman,Ifeelsomuchbetter.”
Ijumpoffmystoolandimmediatelyappreciatehowmuchstrongermylegsfeel.“Idon’twantanysurprises,Josh.IfI’mwalkingintosomekindofshit-storm,Iwanttoknow.”
Ashadowcrosseshisface.HepicksupthecheckfoldedundertheedgeofhisplateandgivesmeafaintlookofdisdainwhenIdigformypurse.
“We’rejustus.I’mjustme.”Hecountsoutsomebills.“Let’sgetgoing.”
Igotothebathroom.WhenIwashmyhandsIglanceatthemirrorandnearlyjumpoutofmyskin.Mycolorisback.Infact,I’mlitupliketheVegasstrip.Neon-blueeyes,cheeksglowingpink,hairblue-black.Mymouthischerryred,butmylipstickislonggone.
Asolidmealhasclearlyrevivedme,butIwouldn’tmindbettingIalwayslooklikethisafteraperiodofJosh’sundividedattention.
“Keep.It.Together,”Itellmyselfsternlyasawomanwalksintothebathroomandgivesmeaweirdlook.Idrymyhandsandrunout.Chapter20
Theeveningisperfumedbythethundercloudsoverhead.He’sleaningagainstthecar,lookingacrossthehighway.There’sastrangekindofgraceintheheavytwistofhisbody.IfIhadtolabeltheimage,itwouldbeYearning.
“Hey.Everythingokay?”
Helooksatmewithanexpressionthatmakesmyheartshake.Likehe’sremindinghimselfI’mactuallyhere.LikeI’mnotjustinhishead.
“Areyousad?”
“Notyet.”Hecloseshiseyes.
“I’lldriveforabit.”Iholdoutmyhand.
Heshakeshishead.“You’remyguest.I’lldrive.You’retired.”
“Oh,I’myourguestnow?”IputasmuchmenaceasIcanintomywalkandheputsbothhandsbehindhisback.Ismileathimandhesmilesback.I’msurprisedthepinprickstarsaboveusdon’texplodeintosilverpowder.ThesadnessIcaughtinhiseyesisburnedawaybyasparkofamusement.
“Myhostage.Myblackmailed,unwillingcaptive.StockholmShortcake.”
“Keys.”Iputmyarmsaroundhiswaisttogetthemfromhisclosedfist.ThenIleanagainsthimandtightenmyarms.
“Letgo.Comeon.”Iextractthekey,buthehugsmyshoulders.Westandthereforanotherlongmoment.Carswhippastinasteadystream.
“IwantyoutoknowIdon’texpectanythingfromyouthisweekend,”Joshsaysabovemyhead.
Ileanbackandlookupathim.“Whateverhappens,I’mprettysurewe’regoingtobealivecomeMondaymorning.UnlessyoursexualityisasdeadlyasIsuspect,inwhichcase,I’magoner.”
“But,”heprotestshelplessly.Ihughimharderandpressmycheekagainsthissolarplexus.
“It’sgoingtohappen,Josh.Wejustneedtogetitoutofoursystems.Ithinkthat’swhatit’sallbeenbuildingtoward.”
“Yousoundalittleresigned.”
“IcanonlyapologizeinadvanceforthethingsI’lldotoyou.”
Helaughsandshiversandpushesmeaway.
“Look,it’sjustoneweekend.”Ikeepmyvoicelight.IthinkIconvinceusbothwithit.
Ihavetojigglethedriver’sseatforwardaboutamile,necessitatingquitealotofjerkypelvicthrusts.HeslidesthepassengerseatbackwithoutcommentandwatchesmeasIstruggle.Isnaponmyseatbeltandangletherearviewmirrordownaboutamile.
“Wantaphonebooktositon?How’dyougetsosmall?”
“Ishrankinthewash.”Inavigateusbacktothehighway.
“Overhalfwaytherenow.”Hiskneehasstartedjiggling.
“Trytorelax.”I’veneverknownJoshtobenervousbefore.Ifeelhimturntostareatme.It’sallweeverdo.
“Whydowedoit?Stareateachother?”
“IknowwhyIdoit.Butyougofirst.”HethinksIwon’tcallhisbluff,soIdo.
“I’malwaystryingtoworkoutwhatyou’rethinking.”Itosshimatriumphantglance,asiftosay,See,Icanbehonest.Sortof.
“IstarebecauseIlikelookingatyou.You’reinterestingtolookat.”
“Urg.Interesting.Worstcomplimentever.Mypoorshriveledego.”
ImmediatelyIgivemyselfalittlementalslap.Fishingforcomplimentsisacardinalsin.“Nevermind,Iwasonlyjoking.Hey,lookatthatoldfarmhouse.Iwanttolivethere.”
“It’smainlyyoureyes.”Hisvoicehangsinthespacebetweenmyshoulderandhis.Afinemistofrainhasstartedtogritonthewindshield.Igripthesteeringwheeltighter.
“Thoseabsolutelyinsaneeyes.EyeslikeI’veneverseenbefore.”
“Geethanks.Insane.”Ifeelmyselfsmileanyway.“Iguessit’saccurate.”
“Youcalledmybodyinsane.Imeanitinthesameway.Itsortofhelpsyoucan’tlookatme.Icantellyou.”
Therainisfallingheavier,andIsetthewipersonintermittent,tryingtofocusonthecarinfront.Heswitchesofftheradio,andIdon’tknowwhybutitfeelslikeathreat.Liketheclickofadoor,lockingmein.
“ThemostgorgeouseyesI’veeverseen.”Hesaysitlikehewantsmetounderstandtheimportance.
IamgratefulforthedarkbecauseIblush.“Thanks.”
Asighgustsoutofhim,andwhenhespeaksagainit’sastripofvelvetrubbingagainstthesensitiveshellofmyear.Itrytoglanceathimbuthetuts.
“ButyourlittleredValentinemouth…”
Hetrailsoffandmakesanoisepartwaybetweenagroanandasigh.Goosebumpssweepupmyarms.IbitemylipincaseIrespond.MaybethemoresilentIam,themorehe’llletloose.
“Thisonetime,youworeawhiteshirtandIcouldseeyourbra.Itwasacoloredlace.Maybe,like,pinkorpalepurple.Icouldseethefaintestoutlineofit.Itwasoneofthedayswhenwehadahugefight,andyouendedupleavingearlybecauseyouweresoangry.”
“Thatcouldhavebeenafewoccasions.You’llhavetonarrowitdownfurtherforme.”Iwishhewouldn’tremindmeofmomentslikethat.
“Ihavelaininbedsomanynightsthinkingaboutyourcoloredlacebraunderthewhiteshirt.Howembarrassing,”heconfides,shiftingalittleinhisseat.
Whenhespeaksagain,hisvoicecoilsintomyear.
“Andthedreamyouoncetoldmeabout?Youwereonlydressedinsheets,withsomemysteryguypressedupagainstyou?”
“Oh,yeah.Mystupiddream.”
“Ithoughtmaybeyoumeantitwasmeinyourdream.”
“Itwasallalie.”Itfallsoutofmymouth.
“Isee,”hesaysafteralongpause.“Welldone,Iguess.Yougotmewoundupoverit.”
I’vedamagedthelittlemomentumhehadgoingandIregretitinstantly.Hebeginstopullhimselfstraighterintheseat.
“Ididhavethedirtiestdreamofmyentirelife.Butitwasn’tlikeItoldyou.”
Hesinksbackdownintohisseat.Icansensehisfaceisturnedaway.Icanimaginehisembarrassment.Ifhe’dtoldmeaboutadreamandletmebelieveitwasaboutme,I’dfeelridiculous,carryinghislieinmyhead.
“Thedreamwasdefinitelyaboutyou,Josh.”
Nowit’smyturntotalklikehe’snotthere.Thesoundofmyownvoicesoundsscratched-upandhuskyandtherainisfallingharderasIdrive.IcanseethereflectiveeyesofaforestanimalontheroadsideasIbringthecararoundalongcurve.
“I’dgonetobedthinkingaboutyou,andhowIwantedtomesswithyoubywearingtheshortblackdress.Iwantedyoutolookatmeand…noticeme.Istilldon’tknowexactlywhyIwantedtowearthatdress.Andduringthenightyoushowedupinmydream.You,pressingmedown,tanglingmeupinbedsheets.”
Hebreathesoutinarush.Ineedtogetthisout.
“Itwassomethingyou’dsaidtomeduringthedayatwork.You’dsaidtome,‘I’mgoingtoworkyousofuckinghard.’Anygirlwouldhaveaneroticdreamafteryousaidthattoher.Evenonewhohatedyourguts.”
Silence.Ipresson.
“‘I’mgoingtoworkyousofuckinghard.’Yousaidittomeinmydream.Andyousmiledatme,andIwokemyselfupontheedgeofcoming.”
“Seriously,”hemanagestosay.
“Ialmostcamefromthethoughtofyoupressingmedownandsmilingatme.”
Icanseeoutthecornerofmyeyehishandsareinfistsonhisknees.
“Isthatallitwouldtake?Becauseitcanbearranged.”
“IwasshockedashellandIactedallweirdedoutthenextday.Exitthehighwayhere?”
Astheoff-rampapproacheshemakesasoundlikeastrangledyes.Iindicateandexit.Heshiftsagaininhisseat.Iglanceoverathislap.Astreetlighthelpfullygivesmeonegorgeousfreeze-frameofahard,heavyangle.
“Sowhy’dyouliethen,aboutyourdream?”
“Ididn’twanttoevensayaword,butyouwouldn’tletup.HowcouldIconfess?Iwastooembarrassed.Ithoughtyou’dteaseme.SoIlied.”
“Yourtinylittledress…”Hemutterssomethingtohimself.Webothdoidenticalsquirmsinourseats.Hiseyesslidesidewaystomylap,andwebothunderstandeachotherperfectly.
ThemainstreetofPortWorthiswideanddividedbywidevergesplantedwithmoundsofpetuniasandgeraniumsthatglowredinourheadlightsandunderbrassstreetlights.Duringtheday,thisplaceisundoubtedlygorgeous.
“ItwasthesamedayIthoughtyouwerelyingaboutyourdate.Lefthere,thenfollowtheroadasfarasitgoes.”
Surelyhe’lllaugh.It’ssortoffunnywhenyouthinkaboutit.
“Yeah,Ididlieaboutit.”
There’sapause,andthistimeI’minahellofalotoftrouble.
“Lucinda.Whatthefuck?Whywouldyoudothat?”Hisangerisvisceral.
“Youweresittingthereatyourdesk,lookingatmelikeIwasaloser.”
“Fuckinghell.Ismyfacesofuckingdifficulttoread?”WhenIsaynothing,heshakeshishead.
“SosomehowIcausedallofthis?Dannysniffingaroundlikealittledog?”
“Yes,itwasalie,butyouwouldn’tletitgo.Yousaidyouweregoingtothesamebartoo.HowcouldIsittherealone?Ihadtogodowntodesignandfindsomeone.HewastheoneIknewwouldsayyes.”
“Youwouldn’thavebeensittingtherealone.Iwouldhavebeenthere.Itwouldhavebeenme.”
Mymouthdropsopen,andheraisesahandtosilenceme.
“Youthinkhe’syourfriend,buthewantsmorefromyou.It’spainfullyobvious.NexttimeIseehim,I’mgoingtoexplainafewthingsaboutyouandme.Justsohe’sclear.”
“Isthatright?Ithinkyoushouldtryexplainingthingstomefirst.”
“Theentranceisthere.”
IpullupinfrontofthePortWorthGrandHotel.Itglows,opulentandgold,lawnsgroomedtoperfectioninthebeamofourheadlights.AparkingvaletsignalstomeandImanagetoputthecarinparkandslideoutontoshakylegs,grabbingatmypurse.
Igotothetrunk,butanotherhotelguydressedlikeatoysoldierisalreadytakingourbagsout.Joshlooksonwithabored,irritatedexpression.
“Thankyou.”Itipthemboth.“Thankyousomuch.”
Joshgoestothereservationsdesk.Thereceptionistvisiblyflincheswhenblastedbyhisbluelaser-eyes.Iturnafullcircleinthelobby.Everythingisinshadesofred;strawberry,ruby,blood,wine.Agianttapestrywithafadedmedievalscenehangsdownonewall.Alionandaunicornbothkneelbeforeawoman.Achandelierhangsabovemefromthecenterofanelaboratelycornicedceiling.Thereisaspiralstaircaseaboveme,scrollingupaboutfourfloorsinconcentriccircles.It’slikebeinginsideaheart.
“It’ssomething,huh?”Amaninasuitsaystomefromthebarnearby.
“It’sgorgeous.”Ihavemyhandsclaspedinfrontofmelikeaschoolgirl.IlookforJosh,butIcan’tseehim.
“Itlooksevenbetterfromhereatthebar,”thesuitguysays,gesturingmeover.
“Nicetry,”Joshsayssharply,joiningme.Hescoopsanarmaroundmeandwalksmetowardtheelevator.Ihearalaughedapology—Sorry,pal!—behindus.
“Howmanykeysdoyouhaveinyourhand?”Hepressestheelevatorbuttonandheholdsupasingleswipecardlikehe’sgotthewinningpokerhand.
“Onlyacertainnumberofroomswerereservedforthewedding.Itriedtogetyouyourownroombuttheentirehotelisbooked.ThisisPatrick’sideaofajoke.”
Iknowwhenhe’slying,andhe’snot.He’scompletelyirritated.Ilookovermyshoulderatthereceptionist,whoisbeingcomfortedbyhissupervisor
Whenwefindourroom,hetakesfourtriestogettheswipecardintothedoorhandle.Itaketwoattemptstogetpasthimwhenheholdsthedooropen,butwhenIaccidentallybumpintohimeveryroundedgirlypartofmebumpsacrosshimlikeaballinapinballmachine.Boob,hip,ass.
Ourbagsaredeposited.Joshtips.Thedoorshutsandwearealone.Chapter21
Thewayhelaystheswipecardonthedressertohisleftisslowanddeliberate.Ibrieflyfeelfear.He’sahuge,dark,shakingmasswalkingtowardme,atomsvibrating,blurringmyvisionashestepstomeandpresseshistoeagainstmine.
TheStaringGamehasneverbeforetakenplaceinalockedhotelroom.
Hereleasesthebuttononmycoatwiththesnapofhisfingers.Thetraitorousgarmentflipsopen,asiftosayHelpyourself,mister!Heslideshishandsinside,andhiseyelashesdroopalittlewhenIarchintohistouch.Heanchorshisfingersatthesmallofmyback,fingersdiggingsoftlyintomyspine.
“Let’sdothis.”Ishouldwritesonnets.Ihookmyhandintohisbeltandtughimtowardthebed.Helowersmedowncarefullyontotheedgeofthemattressandcuffsmyanklewithonehand.Icanfeelhimshaking.Hetakesmyshoesoffandputsthembesidethebedtidily.
It’sbeenforeversinceIlastfeltaman’sskinagainstmine.ForaslongasI’veknownJosh,I’vebeencelibate.IprobablyhavesomeconfusioninmyeyeswhenIrealizeit.Heseesit,andstrokeshisfingerundermychin.
“Iwasmoreangryatmyselfjustnow.”
Hekneelsdownbetweenmyfeet.Aniceboy,kneelingbesidehisbed,abouttosayhisprayers.
Hisdarkblueeyesarestubbornwhenhelooksatmeagain.Iamcertainhe’sabouttokissmycheekandleave,soIhookonelegaroundhiswaistandtughimintothecradleofmythighs.AnoiselikeooffallsoutofhismouthandItakehisjawinbothofmyhandsandkisshim.
Usually,helikeskissingsoft.Tonight,Ilikekissinghard.Ipresshismouthopenthemomentourlipstouch.Hetriestoslowme,butIwon’tlethim.Inipathimuntilhepusheshishipsagainstme.Ifeelasolidthudagainstme.
IfIeverthoughtIwasanaddictbefore,itwasavastunderstatement.IwanttoODonhim.Bytheendofthisweekend,I’llbeleglessinabackalley,unabletosaymyownname.AtleastIunderstandthislust.Icandealwiththis,andfrankly,it’stheonlyoutletwe’vegot.Iamholdinghimwithmylegsandarmsinanirongripandit’sasurprisewhenIfeeladroppingsensation.Iopenmyeyesandrealizehe’sstandingup,takingmewithhim.
“Areyougoingtokillmetonight?”heasksagainstmymouth,andIkisshimagainfiercely.
“I’mgoingtotry.”
Mylastboyfriend,thelastmanIhadsexwithforeverago,wasonlyaboutfive-six.Hecouldneverhavepickedmeup.He’dhaverupturedadiscinhisfragile,boy-sizedspine.Joshsinksdownontoabeautifulwing-backedarmchairI’donlydimlyregisteredwhenwefirstcamein.
Mywholelife,beforeJosh,I’vescoffedatguyswhomadedisplaysoftheirstrength.Butmaybealittlepartofmestillexistswholovestobecarriedandcoddled.Myskirthasslidupsohighhecanprobablyseemyunderwear,buthiseyesdon’tstraydown.Thewordgentlemanflashesthroughmymind.
HeraisesahandandonceuponatimeIwouldhaveflinched,butnowIleanintohispalm.
“Slowdown.”
Ishakemyheadindisbelief,buthelooksmeintheeye.“Please.”
Doubtbeginstospreadthroughme.“Don’tyouwantto?”
Herollshiships.Theheavy,painfullyhardproofisagainstme.Hewantsmesobadlyhiseyeshavegonetheirsignatureserial-killerblack.Ipressmyeyebrowtohis.Webreatheagainsteachother,lipsbarelytouching.
Hewantstopresshismouthagainstmyskin.Bite.Eat.Devour.Hewantsme,handsandknees.Wetskinandcoldair.Fingersslidingintome.Hiswhisperedwordsbarelyaudibleovermylaboredbreathing.TearsoffrustrationandwetmascaramarkingaRorschachpatternonthepillowcase.
IalreadyknowwhatI’llgetfromhim.Coaxing,tormenting,adarklywordedwarningwhenIgettooclose.I’llberolledintowhateverpositionhefeelslike,bossyhandscupping,tilting,tightening,andgentling.
ButIalsoknowhe’llmakemelaugh.Sigh.He’llteaseme,chidemytheatrics,makemesmileevenwhenIwanttostranglehim.Mydefiancewillearnmeadelay.Myacquiescence,akiss.
It’swhatheiscreating,ofcourse.Delay.Hewantstoplaywithmeuntilmyorgasmhitsme,hoursafterthefirsttouch.He’sgoingtomakethislittleEasteregglastfordays.Shardbyshard.Meltingonhistongue.Hewantstodoitsomanytimesthatwelosecount,andprobablydieintheprocess.HewantstomakesureI’maddictedtohim.IknowwhatI’llgetfromhiminbed,allright.It’swhatI’vealwaysgottenfromhim.
Everysinglepornographicimageisflickeringinmyeyesbecausehe’slickinghislipsandhiseyesdroptothesheerlaceatthetopsofmystockings.Hetriestospeakbutcan’t.
I’munbuttoninghisshirtveryclumsily,draggingeachbuttonthroughuntilIhearathreadsnap.
“Whydoallcolorsmakeyourskinsolovely?Eventhehorrendousmustard.”Idropmymouthtohisneck.“Beautifulman,inhumanlyprettyunderfluorescentsintheoffice.”
“Green,thecolorofenvy.I’vebeenajealouspsycholately.”
“Mustard,thecolorofColonels.Let’sburnit.”
“Sure,Shortcake.Youcanburnmyshirt.Inabarrel,inanalleyway.”
He’slaughingandthensighingagainstmythroat,notmakingitremotelyeasyformeasIgetasmanyshirtbuttonsopenasIcan.Islidemyhandsinside.
“You’relikeananatomyposterunderallthisperfectlyironedbusinessattire.Ialwayssuspectedit.ClarkKent.”
“Slowdown.”Hetakesbothmyhandsoutofhisshirt.Istrugglealittle,butheholdsmegentlycuffed,andtiltshisfacetomine.
Webeginkissingagain;softassilk,lighterthanIcouldhavebelievedwaspossibleaftermyroughlittlepawsmauledhimso.
HisthumbsarepressinggentlyintomywristsandI’marchedalittle,breastspressedintohischestaswekisseachother,achinglyslowly.ThewildimpatienceIwasfeelinghasbeencheckedalittle,becausemaybehe’ssellingmeontheconceptofdelay.
“You’verushedthingsinthepast,Ithink,”hetellsme,asifreadingmymind.“What’syourhurry?”
BeingkissedbyJosh,hislipstenderandripe,isapleasureonparwithsex.He’sthinkingofnothingbutmeandmyreactions,learningwhatIlike,withholdingandgivingandtalkingtomewordlessly.WhenIopenmyeyesafractiontotakeapeekIseehe’sdoingthesamething.
Mystomachbottomsoutwhenhesmilesagainstmylips.
“HowYouDoing?”hewhispersandIbitethewordssoftlyoffhistongue.
“HowwouldyousayI’mdoing?”
Hishandsfallawayfrommywriststentatively.WhenheissatisfiedIcanbetrustedtokeepourlazyrhythm,hecupsmyassandgivesitafirmsqueeze
“You’redoinggreat.Goddamn,Luce.”
“Youbetcha.”It’sexhilarating,knowingIcannowlaymymouthonhimwheneverIwant.Ilookoverhisskinlikeawarlord,andhe’smynewterritory.Heshiversundermyperusal.
“Let’splayaspecialgame,”Itellhim.“It’scalledWhoComesFirst.”
“AlsoknownasGoldMedal,SilverMedal.”
We’relaughing.I’munbuttoninghiscuffwhenhiscellphonebeginstoring.Heignoresit,drawingmymouthbacktohis.Mybottomlipisgivenalittlepinchwithhisteeth.
“Sopretty,”hetellsme.“Justsopretty.”
Thephoneringsonandon.ItstopsandIletoutasighofrelief.Thenitstartsringingagain.Heflickshiseyestomine,andIgivehimafrustratedshrugandclimboff.
“I’llturnitoff.”
HedigsinhispocketandIsurveymyhandiwork.He’ssprawledinthechair,legseverywhere,shirtunbuttoned,haircompletelywrecked,eyeshazedandblack.
“Youlooklikeahotvirginaldorkwho’sbeendefiledinthebackseatofmycar.”
Hiseyessparkwithamusement.“That’showIfeel.”Heunearthshiscellandglancesatitdismissively,butthenlooksatitagain.
“It’smymom.Oh,shit.Iforgother.”
Igointothebathroomtohide.Shynesstakesholdatthethoughtofmeetingher.I’mnotsurewhattodonext,andIlistentohisplacatingtonethroughthedoor.Iwashmyhandsandpressmyswollenlipsandstareatmyselfinthemirror.Ilooklikethepornoversionofmyself.
Hespeaksthroughthedoor.“Luce.I’msorry,butIhavetogodownstairsforafewminutes.”
Iopenthedoor.“Iseverythingokay?”
“Mom’sdownstairs.Shemadetablecenterpiecesfromherrosegardenapparently,butshecan’tfindanyhotelstafftohelphercarrythemallinandshe’sgettingupset.Fuckinghopeless.Ineedtogodownthereandkicksomeone’sass.”Herebuttonshisshirt.
“Ofcourse.Goon.Makesomeyounghotelworkercry.Doyouwantmetocomeandhelp?”
“No,you’retired.Doyouwantmetoorderyouanyroomservice?Bringyoubacksomecoffee?”
“No,it’sokay.Imighthaveashowerwhileyou’regone.I’msureI’llbedrapedseductivelyacrossthebedinsomethinglacyforwhenyougetback.”
Hewincesandadjustshispantsalittle.He’ssotorn,Ifeelsorryforhim.
“Youcan’tleaveherdowntherestruggling.”
“Idon’tknowhowlongI’llbe,hopefullyafewminutes.Butrelax,andI’llbebacksoon.”
“It’sokay.There’snowayI’minterestedinmakingoutwithaguywhowouldn’tgohelphisupsetmom.Go.”
Thebathroomisnearlythesizeofmybedroom.Ishowerandwashmyface.WhenI’mbrushingmyteeth,Ilookatmyface,paleanddevoidofanymakeup,andremindmyselfhe’sseenmelikethis.Infact,he’sseenmeevenworse.
He’sseenmesweating,vomiting,feverish,andasleep.He’sseenmeangry,frustrated,scared.Horny,lonely,heartsick.NomatterhowIlook,itneverseemstofazehim.Healwayslooksatmeexactlythesameway.KnowingthisgivesmetheconfidencetowalkoutinmySLEEPYSAURUST-shirtandsleepshorts.Itseemedlikeafunnyideaatthetime,butIcatchaglimpseofmyselfinthedresser.Ilookabouttenyearsold.Oh,well.NegligeeLucywouldbeafake.
Silencestretcheson.Icheckmyphone.Nothing.Ipushbackthecomforterandslideintothebed.Ican’tholdinthegroanofrelief.Afterthestressandtensionofthelastfewdays,thisisn’tasscaryasIimagineditwouldbe.ThesheetsquicklygrowwarmandIpaddlemytiredfeetinpleasure.
IleanbackagainstthepileofpillowsandturntheTVon.IfindachannelplayingERanditisstrangelycomforting.Joshhasprobablyseenthisone.Itrytowatchformedicalinaccuracies,butwhenmyeyesbecomedryandtiredIclosethem.Tocalmmynerves,IhitPlayonmymemoryandbitebackayawn.
I’mthereagain.ThenightIswallowedmygoddamnprideandwenttohisapartment.Myownpersonalhappyplaceinmymind.I’mcurledonhiscouch,thesoftdeepcushionscradlingmyback.Ifeelthedippingweightofhimsittingdownbesideme,andIknowaslongashe’sthere,Iwillbeokay.Idon’tknowhowlongwedothis.IsithereholdinghandswiththemostintenselyfascinatingmanI’veeverknown.He’slookingatmewithfiercetendernessinhiseyes.Eyeslikehelovesme.
NowIknowImustbedreaming.
IWAKEWHENthesunslicesthroughthecenterofmypillowthroughagapinthehoteldrapes.Myfirstthoughtis,No.I’mtoocomfortable.
Mysecondthoughtis:IfinallygettoseeJoshasleep.
Lyingface-to-facewithourpillowstouching,we’vebeenplayingtheStaringGameallnightwithoureyesclosed.Eacheyelashcurvesagainsthischeek,glossedanddark.I’dkillforlasheslikethose,buttheyalwaysseemtobelavisheduponthemostmasculineofmen.He’shuggingmyarmlikeateddybear.Idon’thatehim.Notevenabit.It’sadisasterthatIdon’t.Ismoothmyfingersoverhisbrowandhefrowns.Ipressawaythecrease.
Ipropupontomyelbowandseethebedsideclockreads12:42P.M.Ihavetocheckseveraltimes.Howdidwesleeppastnoon?Ourmutualexhaustionfromthelastfewdayshasresultedinaprettyimpressivesleep-in.
“Josh.”Nopointstickingwiththeformalityofhisfullnamewhenwe’reasleepinthesamebed.“Whattime’sthewedding?”
Hejoltsandopenshiseyes.“Hi.”
“Hi.Whattime’sthewedding?”Itrytoslitheroutofbedbuthehugsmyarmtighter.
“TwoP.M.Butwehavetogetthereearlier.”
“It’sgettingclosetoone.Intheafternoon.”
He’salittleshocked.“Ihaven’tsleptthislatesincehighschool.We’regoingtobelate.”Regardlessofthis,henudgesmyelbowlikethekickstandofabikeandIflopbackdownontothemattress.Imanagetoglimpsesomebarearm.He’swearingablacktank.
“Nicearms.”
Islidemyhandsdownone,watchingthemundulatealongeachtaut,definedcurve.ThenIdoitagain.Hewatches,andthenexttimeIusemyfingernails.Goosebumps.Mmmm.Ibendmyheadtokissthem
“Youaresomethingelse,JoshuaTempleman.”Ipushhishairawayfromhisforehead.It’sruffledandmessy.Ispendafewminutesgroominghim.
“AmItryingtoohardtoseduceyou?”
Herollsmecloser.IneverimaginedJoshwouldbeacuddler.“Well,youcouldalwaystryharder.”
He’ssosweet.Lyinginbedwithhimisprettyluscious.WithoutthinkingIasksomethingI’vealwayswantedtoknow.“Whenwasyourlastgirlfriend?”
ThequestionclangslikeI’vestruckagong.Welldone,Lucy.Bringupotherwomenwhilelyinginbedwithhim.
“Um.”There’salongpause.SolongIthinkhe’seitherasleeporabouttoexplainhewasmarried.He’stooyoung.Surely.Hetriesagain.“Well.Um.”
“Don’ttellmeyou’rewaitingforyourdivorcetocomethroughorsomething.”
Hisarmslidesupthemiddleofmyback,andmyheadrollsslowlyontohisshoulder.Icanbarelykeepmyeyesopen,I’msocomfortable.Sowarm.Surroundedbyhisscent,andcottonsheets.
“Noonewouldbemasochisticenoughtomarryme.”
I’malittleindignantforhim.“Someonewould.You’recompletelygorgeous.Andyou’reneat.Tallandmuscly.Andemployed.Andhaveanicecar.Andperfectteeth.You’rebasicallytheoppositeofmostguysI’vedated.”
“Sothey’veallbeen…hideousmessytrolls…unemployed…andsmallerthanyou?Howcouldthatevenbepossible?”
“You’vebeenreadingmydiary.ThelastguyIdatedwassosmallhecouldwearmyjeans.”
“Buthemusthavebeennice.Tobemyopposite,hemusthavebeensodarnnice.”Helooksatthewall.
“Hewas,Iguess.Butyoucanbenice.You’rebeingnicerightnow.”
Ifeelteethonmycollarbone,andIsnortwithamusement.
“Okay,you’renevernice.”Theteetharegoneandasoftkissispressedagainstthesamespot.
“Sowhendidyoubreakupwiththisminiatureman?”Hebeginskissingmythroat,lazily,withcareandgentleness.WhenItiltmyheadtolethimhavebetteraccessIseetheclockradioagain.Real-worldo’clockisfastapproaching.IwonderifIhaveagranolabarinmypurse.
“ItwasinthecoupleofmonthspriortotheBandGmerger.Ithadn’tbeenworkingforawhile.Itwassuchastressfultimeatwork,andIdidn’tseehimasmuch,andweagreedtotakeabreak.Thebreakneverended.”
“That’salongtime.”
“Hencemedry-humpingyouconstantly.Butyouneveransweredme.Wait,don’ttellme,Idon’twanttoknow.”Thethoughtofhimpleasuringanotherwomanistoomuch.
“Whynot?”
“Jealous,”Igroanandhebeginstolaughsoftly,butthensobers.He’spainfullyawkwardwhenhefinallyexplains.
“Iwasseeingsomeone,butwebrokeupinthefirstweekofmovingtothenewBandGbuilding.Sheendedit.”
“BandGruinsanotherrelationship.”Iwanttobitemytonguebutthewordswon’tstop.“Ibetshewastall.”
“Yeah,prettytall.”Hereachestothesidetableandretrieveshiswatch
“Blonde.”
Hebucklesitanddoesn’tlookatme.“Yes.”
“Goddamnit,whyaretheyalwaysTallBlondies?Ibetshehasbrowneyesandatan,andherdadisaplasticsurgeon.”
“You’vebeenreadingmydiary.”Helooksfaintlydisturbed.
Ipressmyfaceintohisshoulder.“Iwasguessingshe’smypolaroppositetoo.”
“Shewas…”Heletsoutawistfulsighandmyhearttwists.Theterritoriallittlecavewomaninsidemeappearsattheentrancetohercaveandscowls.
“Shewasjustsonice.”
“Ugh,nice.Gross.”
“Andhereyeswerebrown.”Hewatchesmemullthisover.
“Soundslikealegitreasontobreakitoff.Youknowwhat?Youreyesaretooblue.Thisjustisn’tgoingtowork.”Iwashopingforacleverretort,butinstead,histoneiswithering.
“You’veactuallythoughtthatthiswouldwork?”
Nowit’smyturntosayum.I’mhalfwayrecoiledintomyownshellwhenheblowsoutabreath.
“Sorry.Itcameoutwrong.Ican’thelpbeingsuchacynicalasshole.”
“Thisisnotnewstome.”
“It’swhyIdon’thaveagirlfriend.Theyalltrademeinforniceguys.”
HelooksattheceilingwithsuchdeepregretinhiseyesIhaveanawfulthought.He’spiningforsomeone.TallBlondiebrokehisheartwhenshemovedontosomeonelesscomplicated.Itwouldcertainlyexplainhisbiasagainstniceguys.Itrytothinkofhowtoaskhim,buthelooksattheclock.
“We’dbetterhurry.”Chapter22
Pleasegivemeacrashcourseonthekeyplayersinyourfamily.Anytabootopicsofconversation?Idon’twanttobeaskingyourunclewherehiswifeis,onlytofindoutshewasmurdered.”Irummagearoundinmybag.
“Well,beforelastnightwhenIcarriedforty-fiveindividualflowerdisplaysintothehotelbecausetheycouldn’tfindherafuckingcart,Ihadn’tseenmymominafewmonths.ShecallsmemostSundaystokeepmeuptodatewiththenewsofneighborsandfriendsInevercaredabout.Shewasasurgeon,mainlyheartsandtransplants.Littlekidsandsaintlytypes.She’sgoingtoloveyou.Absolutelyloveyou.”
IrealizeI’mpressingmyhandsovermyownheart.Iwanthertoloveme.Oh,jeepers.
“She’llsayshewantstokeepyouforever.Anyway.Mydadisacutter.”
Iflinch.
“It’sthenicknameforsurgeons.Whenyoumeetmydad,you’llunderstandwhy.Hewasmainlyoncallforemergencyroomsurgeries.I’dhearallsortsofthingsoverbreakfast.Someidiotgotapoolcuethroughthethroat.Carcrashes,fights,murdersgonewrong.Hewasforeverdealingwithdrunkswithgravelrash,womenwithblackeyesandbrokenribs.Whateveritwas,hefixedit.”
“It’sahardjob.”
“Momwasasurgeontoo,butshewasneveracutter.Shecaredaboutthepersononhertable.Mydad…dealtwiththemeat.”
JoshsitsonthesilllostinthoughtforaminuteandIsearchinmybagforclothes,givinghimsomeprivacy.Istartswipingonmakeupinthebathroom
Afterafewminutes,Ipeepthroughthegapinthedoor.Inthereflectionofthedresserhe’sshirtless,gloriouslyso,andhe’sunzippedmygarmentbag.Heholdsthedressbetweentwofingerswithhisheadtiltedinrecognition.Thenherubshishandoverhisface.
IthinkI’vemadeamistakewithmybluedress.
MyThursdaylunchtimedashtothetinyboutiquenearworkseemedlikeagoodideaatthetime,butIshouldhavewornsomethingIalreadyhad.Butit’stoolatenow.Heunfoldsanironingboardandflapshisshirtoverit.
Islidethedooropenwithmyfoot.“Yowza.Whichgymdoyougoto?Allofthem?”
“It’stheoneinthebottomoftheMcBridebuilding,ahalfblockawayfromwork.
Ihavetoswallowamouthfulofdrool.“Areyousurewehavetogotoyourbrother’swedding?”
Ihaveneverseensomuchofhisskin,anditglowswithhealth;honeygold,flawless.Thedeeplinesofhiscollarbonesandhipsareanimpressiveframe.Inbetweenareaseriesofindividualmuscles,eachrepresentingagoalsetandboxticked.Flat,squarepectoralswithroundededges.TheskinofhisstomachpullstightacrossthekindofmusclesIusuallystareatduringOlympicswimmingfinals.
Heironshisshirtandallthemusclesmove.Hisbicepsandlowerabdomenareridgedwiththoseblatantlymasculineveins.Thoseveinsrideovermuscleandtellyou,I’veearnedthis.Hishipshaveridgesthatpointdowntowardhisgroin,obscuredinsuitpants.
Theamountofsacrificeanddeterminationtosimplymaintainthisismind-boggling.It’ssoJosh.
“Whydoyoulooklikethis?”IsoundlikeI’mabouttogointocardiacarrest.
“Boredom.”
“I’mnotbored.Can’twestayhere,andI’llfindsomethingintheminibartosmearalloveryou?”
“Whoo,arethosesomehornyeyesorwhat.”Hewagglestheironatme.“Getfinishedinthere.”
“Foraguywholookslikeyou,you’reawfullybashful.”
Hedoesn’tsayanythingforabit,strokingtheironoverthecollar.Icanseehowmucheffortitistakinghimtostandshirtlessinfrontofme.
“Whyareyouself-conscious?”
“I’vedatedsomegirlsinthepast…”Hetrailsoff.
Myarmsarecrossed.Myearsareabouttostartwhistlingwithsteam.“Whatsortofgirls?”
“They’veall…atsomepointmadeitprettyclearmypersonalityisnot…”
“It’snotwhat?”
“I’mjustnotgreattobearound.”
Eventheironissteaminginindignation.“Someonewantedyouonlyforyourbody?Andtheytoldyouthat?”
“Yeah.”Heredoesonecuff.“Itshouldfeelflattering,right?AtfirstIguessitdid,butthenitkepthappening.Itreallydoesn’tfeelgoodtokeepbeingtoldthatI’mnotrelationshipmaterial.”Hebendsoverhisshirtandanalyzesitforcreases.
IfinallyunderstandtheMatchboxcarcode.Pleaseseeme.Therealme.
“YouknowwhatIhonestlythink?You’dstillbeamazing,evenifyoulookedlikeMr.Bexley.”
“You’vebeendrinkingtheKool-Aid,Shortcake.”
He’ssmilingalittleashekeepsironing.I’malmostshakingwiththeneedtomakehimunderstandsomethingthatIdon’tfullyknowmyselfyet.AllIknowis,ithurtsmetothinkhefeelsbadaboutsuchafundamentalaspectofhimself.Iresolvetoobjectifyhimless,andturnawayuntilheputsonhisshirt.It’srobin’s-eggblue.
“Ilovethatcolorshirt.ItmatcheswhatI’mgoingtowear,um,obviously.”Icringeatmydressagain.Igotomyhandbaganddiginit,findingmylipstick.
“CanIseesomething?”He’sgothistieflappinglooseashetakesthetubefrommeandreadsthebottom.
“Flamethrower.Howappropriate.”
“Doyouwantmetotoneitdown?”Irattlemyhandbag,searching.
“Ifuckingloveyourred.”HekissesmymouthbeforeIstarttoapply.Hewatchesmeapplyingthelipstick,blotting,reapplying,andbythetimeI’mdonehelookslikehe’senduredsomething.
“Icanbarelytakeitwhenyoudothat,”hemanagestosay.
“Hairupordown?”
Helookspained.Hegathersitup,andsays“Up.”
Heletsitfallandscoopsitinhishandslikesnow.“Down.”
“Halfup,halfdownitis.Quitfidgeting,you’remakingmenervous.Whydon’tyougoandhaveadrinkatthebardownstairs?Liquidcourage.Icandriveustothechurch.”
“Bedownin,like,fifteenminutesokay?”
Oncehe’sgoneandthesilencefillsthehotelroomlikeaswellingballoonIsitontheendofthebedandlookatmyself.Myhairfallsaroundmyshoulders,andmymouthisalittleredheart.IlooklikeI’mlosingmymind.Istripdown,putonmysupportunderweartosmoothoutanylumps,hookmystockingsupandlookatmydress.
Iwasgoingtobuysomethinginamutednavy,somethingIcouldwearagain,butwhenIsawtherobin’s-egg-bluedressIknewIhadtohaveit.Icouldn’thavecolormatcheditbettertohisbedroomwallsifItried.
Thesalesassistanthadassuredmeitsuitedmeperfectly,butthewayJoshrubbedhishandoverhisfacewaslikehe’drealizedhe’sdealingwithatotalpsycho.It’sundeniablytrue.I’mpracticallypaintingmyselfinhisbedroomblue.Imanagetozipmyselfupwithsomecontortionistmovements.
Idecidetotakethehugesweepingspiralstaircasedowninsteadoftheelevator.HowmanyopportunitieswillIeverhave?Lifehasstartedtofeellikeonebigchancetomakeeachnewlittlememory.Iwalkindownwardcirclestowardthegorgeousmaninthesuitandpaleblueshirtatthebar.
Heraiseshiseyes,andthelookinhiseyesmakesmesoshyIcanbarelyputonefootinfrontoftheother.Psycho,psycho,IwhispertomyselfasIplantmyselfinfrontofhimandrestmyelbowonthebar.
“HowYouDoing?”Imanage,butheonlystaresatme.
“Iknow,whatapsycho,dressedinthesamecolorasyourbedroomwalls.”Iself-consciouslysmoothdownthedress.It’saretroprom-dressstyle,thenecklinedippingandthewaistpulledtight.Icatchawhiffoflunchbeingservedinthehotelrestaurantandmystomachmakesapitifullittlewhimper.
HeshakeshisheadlikeI’manidiot.“You’rebeautiful.You’realwaysbeautiful.”
Asthepleasureofthosethreewordslightupinsidemychest,Iremembermymanners.
“Thankyoufortheroses.Ineverdidsaythankyou,didI?Ilovedthem.I’veneverhadflowerssenttomebefore.”
“Lipstickred.Flamethrowerred.IhaveneverfeltlikesuchapieceofshitasIdidthen.”
“Iforgaveyou,remember?”Istepinbetweenhiskneesandpickuphisglass.Isniff.
“Wow,that’sonestrongKool-Aid.”
“Ineedit.”Heswallowsitwithoutablink.“I’venevergottenflowerseither.”
“Allthesestupidwomenwhodon’tknowhowtotreatamanright.”
I’mstillagitatedabouthisearlierrevelation.Sure,he’sanargumentative,calculating,territorialasshole40percentofthetime,buttheother60percentissofilledwithhumorandsweetnessandvulnerability.
ItseemsI’vedrunkalltheKool-Aid.
“Ready?”
“Let’sgo.”Wewaitforthevalettobringthecar.Ilookupatthesky
“Well,theysayrainonyourweddingdayisgoodluck.”
Ipressmyhandonhisjigglingkneeafterwedriveafewminutes.
“Pleaserelax.Idon’tgetwhythisisabigdeal.”Hewon’treply.
Thelittlechurchisabouttenminutesfromthehotel.Theparkinglotisfilledwithcold-lookingwomeninpastels,huggingthemselvesandtryingtowranglemalecompanionsandchildren.
I’mabouttostarthuggingmyselfagainstthecoldaswellwhenhegathersmetohissideandswoopsinside,saying,Hello,talktoyoulatertoseveralrelativeswhogreethimintonesofsurprisebeforeflickingtheireyestome.
“You’rebeingsorude.”Ismileateveryonewepassandtrytodigmyheelsinalittle.
Hisfingerssmoothdowntheinsideofmyarmandhesighs.“Frontrow.”
Hetowsmeuptheaisle.I’malittlecloudintheslipstreamofafighterjet.Theorganistismakingsometentativepracticechordsandit’sprobablyJosh’sexpressionthatcauseshertopressseveralkeysinafoghornoffright.Weapproachthefrontpew.Josh’shandisnowaviseonmine.
“Hi.”HesoundssoboredIthinkhe’sworthyofanOscar.“We’rehere.”
“Josh!”Hismother,presumably,springstoherfeetforahug.HishandfallsawayfrommineandIwatchhisforearmslinkbehindher.You’vegottohandittoJosh.Forapricklypear,hecommitscompletelytoahug.
“Hi,”hetellsher,kissinghercheek.“Youlooknice.”
“Cuttingitabitclose,”theseatedmanonthepewcomments,butIdon’tthinkJoshnotices.
Josh’smomisalittlelady,fairhair,withasoftcheek-dimplethatI’vealwayswishedfor.Herpalegrayeyesaremistywhenshepullsbacktolookupatherhuge,gorgeousson.
“Oh!Well!”Shebeamsathiscomplimentandsheglancestome.“Isthis…?”
“Yes.ThisisLucyHutton.Lucy,thisismymother,Dr.ElaineTempleman.”
“Pleasedtomeetyou,Dr.Templeman.”She’sropingmeinforahugbeforeIcanblink.
“Elaine,please.It’sLucyatlast!”shesaysintomyhair.Shepullsbackandstudiesme.“Josh,she’sgorgeous!”
“Verygorgeous.”
“Well,I’mgoingtokeepyouforever,”shetellsme,andIcan’thelpbutbreakintoadorkygrin.ThelookJoshshootsmeislike,see.Hewipeshispalmsonhissuitpantsandalmosthasacrazylookinhiseye.MaybehehasChurchphobia.
“I’mgoingtokeepherinmypocket.Whatadoll!Comeandsitupfrontwithushere.ThisisJosh’sfather.Anthony,lookatthislittlething.Anthony,thisisLucy.”
“Nicetomeetyou,”herepliesgravely,andIblinkinshock.It’sJoshuaontimedelay.Stillridiculouslyhandsome,he’sastatelysilverfox,gravelyupholsteredinheavytailoring.We’rethesameheightandhe’sseated,sohemustbeanabsolutegiantwhenstanding.Elaineputsherhandonthesideofhisneck,andwhenhelooksupatherthefaintestsmilecatchesathislips.
Thenheswingshisterrifyinglaser-eyestome.Geneticsneverceasetoastonishme.
“Nicetomeetyou,”Ireturn.Westareateachother.PerhapsIshouldtrytocharmhim.It’sanancientreflexandIpresspauseonit.Iexamineit.ThenIdecideagainstit.
“Hello,Joshua,”hesays,redirectinghislasers.“Beenawhile.”
“Hi,”Joshsays,andsnagsmebymywrist,pullingmeintositbetweenhimselfandhismother.Abuffer.Iremindmyselftoadmonishhimforitlater.
ElainestepsbetweenAnthony’sfeetandstrokeshishairintoaneaterformation.BeautytamedthisparticularBeast.ShesitsdownandIturntoher.
“Youmustbesoexcited.ImetPatrickonce,underlessthanpleasantcircumstances.”
“Oh,yes,PatricktoldmeononeofourSundayphonecalls.Youwerequiteunwell,hesaid.Foodpoisoning.”
“Ithinkitwasavirus,”Joshsays,takingmyhandandstrokingitlikeanobsessivesorcerer.“Andheshouldn’tdiscusshersymptomswithotherpeople.”
Hismotherwatcheshim,looksatourjoinedhands,andsmiles.
“Well,whateveritwas,Iwascompletelysteamrolledbyit.Heprobablywon’tevenrecognizemetoday.Ihope.Iwasgratefultoyoursonsforgettingmethroughit.”
ElaineglancesatAnthony.I’vebroughtJoshtooclosetothebigelephantintheroom;hislackofastethoscope
“Theflowersarelovely.”Ipointtothehugemassesofpinkliliesontheendofeachpew.
Elainedropshervoicetoawhisper.“Thankyouforcomingwithhim.Thisishardforhim.”SheshootsJoshaworriedlook.
Asmotherofthegroom,ElainesoonexcusesherselftogreetMindy’sparents,andhelpseveralterrifyinglyoldpeopleintotheirseats.Thechurchisfillingup;delightedcriesofsurpriseandlaughterfillingtheairasfamilyandfriendsreunite.
Frankly,Idon’tseewhatissodifficultaboutthissituation.Everythingseemsfine.Ican’tseeanythingamiss.Anthonynodstopeople.Elainekissesandhugsandlightsupeveryoneshespeaksto.
I’mjustalittlelonelybookinbetweentwobroodingbookends.Anthonyisnotthesortofmantoappreciatesmalltalk.
Iletfatherandsonsitinsilenceonapolishedplankofwood,andIholdJosh’shandandIhavenoideaifI’mbeingremotelyusefuluntilhecatchesmyeye.
“Thanksforbeinghere,”hesaysintomyear.“It’salreadyeasier.”
ImullthisoverasElainetakesherseat,andthemusicstartstoplay.
Patricktakeshisplaceatthealtar,castingawryglanceathisbrother,hiseyesskatingovermeasthoughassessingmyrecovery.Hesmilesathisparentsandhuffsoutabreath.
WeallstandwhenMindyarrivesinabigpinkmarshmallowdress.It’sinsanelyoverthetop,butshelookssohappyasshewalksdowntheaisle,simultaneouslygrinningandweepinglikealunatic,soIloveittoo.
ShetakesherplaceinfrontofPatrick,andIgetagoodlookather.Holymoly.Thiswomanisstunning.Go,Patrick.
Weddingsalwaysendupdoingsomethingweirdtome.Ifeelmyselfgettingemotionalwhentheirfriendsreadspecialpoems,andtheministerreflectsontheircommitment.Igetchokedupduringtheirvows.ItaketheKleenexofferedbyElaineanddabatthecornersofmyeyes.Iwatchwithsuspenseastheringisslidontoeachfinger,andsighwithreliefwhentheyfitperfectlyandgoonwithease.
AndwhenthemagicwordsyoumaynowkissthebrideareutteredIletoutahappysighlikeI’veseenTHEENDscrolledoverthetopofthisperfectmoviefreeze-frame.
IlookatElaineandwebothletoutidenticaldelightedlaughsandbeginclapping.Themenoneithersideofussighindulgently.
Theywalkoutdowntheaislewearingtheirbrand-newgoldrings,andeveryonestandsup,talkingandexclaiminguntilthestrainsoftheancientorganarealmostdrownedout.Forthefirsttime,InoticesomespeculativeglancesatJosh.Whatgives?
“Theygoforphotographsdownontheboardwalk.Ihopethewinddoesn’tblowMindycleanaway,”Elainetellsme,wavingpolitelytosomeone.“We’llallgotothehotelnow,havesomedrinks,thenanearlydinnerandspeeches.We’llborrowJoshforsomefamilyphotosatsomepoint.”
“Soundsgood.Right,Josh?”Isqueezehishand.He’sbeenvacantforthelastfewminutes.Withajolt,hedropsbackintohisbody.
“Sure.Let’sgo.”
Ithrowalookovermyshouldertohisparents,whichhopefullylooksbemusedratherthanalarmedasI’mhookedintohisrightarmandsweptoutofthechurch.
“Slowdown.Josh.Wait.Myshoes.”I’mbarelyabletokeepup.Heslidesdownhorizontalinthepassengerseatandletsoutagroaningsigh.
I’mhavingtroubletryingtotimemyreverse.Everyoneispilingoutoftheparkinglotsimultaneously.
“Doyouwanttogostraightback?Ordoyouwantmetodrivearoundforabit?”
“Drivearound.Allthewaybackhome.Takethehighway.”
“Iamanindependentobserver.Iassureyou,itwentprettywell.”
“You’reright,Iguess,”hesaysheavily.
“Pardon?Couldyoupossiblyrepeatthatinamoment,soIcanrecordit?Iwantitasmytextmessagealertnoise.LucyHutton,you’reright.”
Teasinghimwillgethimoutofhislittlefunk.Helooksatme.
“Icoulddothevoicemailmessagetooifyouwant.You’vereachedthevoicemailofLucyHutton.She’stoobusycryingatastranger’sweddingtotakeyourcallrightnow,butleaveamessage.”
“Oh,shutup.Imustwatchtoomanymovies.Itwassoromantic.”
“You’rekindacute.”
“JoshuaTemplemanthinksI’mkindofcute.Hellhasofficiallyfrozenover.”Wegrinateachother.
“Youmusthavecriedforareason.You’redreamingofyourownwedding?”
Ilookathimdefensively.“No.Ofcoursenot.Howlame.Plus,myfiancéisinvisible,remember.”
“Butwhywouldastranger’sweddingmakeyoucry,then?”
“Marriageisoneofthelastancientritesofcivilization,Iguess.Everyonewantssomeonewholovesthemsomuchthey’dwearagoldring.Youknow,toshoweveryoneelsetheirheartistaken.”
“I’mnotsureit’srelevantthesedays.”
Itrytothinkofhowtoexplainit.“It’ssocompletelyprimal.He’swearingmyring.He’smine.He’llneverbeyours.”
Theslowprocessionoftraffictakesusallbacktothehotel.IhandthekeystothehotelvaletandJoshattemptstosteermetothesideofthebuilding.
“Josh.No.Comeon.”
“Let’sgototheroom.”He’sputtingonthebrakes.Heweighsaton.
“You’rebeingridiculous.Explainwhatisgoingonwithyou.”
“It’sstupid,”hemutters.“It’snothing.”
“Well,we’regoingin.”Itakehishandfirmlyandmarchhimthroughthedoorsheldopenforus.
Itakethedeepestbreathmylungscanmanage,andwalkthroughintoanentireroomhalffilledwithTemplemans.Chapter23
Inaprettyroomadjoiningtheballroom,wespendnearlytwohoursminglinginvariousstatesofawkwardnessinanendlesschampagnereception.WhenIsaymingling,ImeanmecarryingJoshuathroughasuccessionofsocialencounterswithdistantrelativeswhilehestandsbesideme,watchingmeglugchampagnetodullmynerves,whichburnsmyemptystomachlikegasoline.Everyintroductiongoeslikethis.
“Lucy,thisismyauntYvonne,mymother’ssister.Yvonne,LucyHutton.”
Whenhisdutyiscompleted,hebeginsoccupyinghimselfwithstrokingmyinnerarm,spreadinghishandacrossmybacktofindthebareskinundermyhair,orlinkingandunlinkingourfingers.Alwaysstaring.Hebarelytakeshiseyesoffme.He’sprobablyamazedbymysmall-talkability.
Afterawhile,heistakenbyhismotheroutintothesidegarden,andIwatchthroughthewindowasheposeswithvariouscombinationsoffamily.Hissmileisforced.Whenhecatchesmespying,I’mbeckonedout,andheandIposetogetherinfrontofacharmingrosebush.Whentheshutterclicksshut,theoldversionofmeshakesherhead,wonderinghowweevergottothispoint.Me,andJoshuaTempleman,capturedsidebysideinthesamephotograph,smiling?Everynewdevelopmentbetweenusfeelslikeanimpossibility.
Heturnsmeandcupsmychininhispalms,andIhearthephotographersay,Lovely.Anothershutterclick,andIforgettheworldintheinstanthislipstouchmine.IwishIcouldshakeoffmyoldmistrusts,butthisallfeelstoomuchlikeasummerafternoondaydream.ThesortImighthavehadonce,andthenhatedmyselfforit.
IwatchPatrickandMindyacrossthelawn,nowclinchedtogetherromanticallyinfrontofanothercameraandIrealizethatI’mclinchedinafairlyromanticposemyself.Themanwho’shatedmeforsolongisnowshowingmeoff,tuggingmeclosetohisside.Whenwegobackinside,hekissesmeonthetemple.Hedropshismouthdowntomyear,andtellsmeI’mbeautiful.I’mturnedanotherninetydegrees,presentedtoanothersetofrelatives.He’sshowingmeoff.
WhatIhaven’tworkedoutyetis,Why?
Ineveryintroduction,afterdiscussionsonhowlovelyMindylookedandhownicetheceremonywas,theinevitablequestionalwayscomesnext.
“So,Lucy,howdidyoumeetJosh?”
“Wemetatwork,”Joshsuppliedthefirsttimewhenthesilencestretchedtoothin,soitbecomesmydefaultanswer.
“Oh,andwheredoyouwork?”isthenextquestion.Noneofhisfamilyhaseventheslightestideawhereheworks,orwhathedoes.They’reawkwardaboutit;likebeingaMedSchoolDropoutissomethingtobedeeplyashamedof.Atleastapublishinghousesoundsglamorous.
“It’ssolovelyseeingyouwithsomeonenew,”anothergreat-aunttellshim.ShegivesmeaMeaningfulLook.Perhapshe’salsorumoredtobegay.
Iexcuseusandpullhimasidebehindapillar.
“Youhavetomakemoreofaneffort.I’mexhausted.It’smyturntostandthereandfeelyouupwhileyoutalk.”Awaiterpassesandoffersmeanothertinycanapé.HeknowsmebynowbecauseI’veeatenatleasttwelve.I’mhisbestcustomer.I’mobsessedwithdinner,whichI’vebeenpromisedbythewaiterisatfiveo’clocksharp.IwatchthehandsonJosh’swatch,knowingI’llprobablydieofhungerbeforethen
“Ican’tthinkofanythingtosay.”Henoticesapaintballbruiseonmyupperarmandbeginssilentlyfussingoverit.
“Askpeopleaboutthemselves,itusuallyworks.”Iamacutelyawareofhowmanypeoplekeeptakinglittlepeeksatus.“Youneedtotellmewhyeveryone’slookingatmelikeI’mtheBrideofFrankenstein.Nooffense,youbigfreak.”
“Ihatebeingaskedaboutmyself.”
“Inoticed.Nobodyknowsaflippin’thingaboutyou.Andyoudidn’tanswermyquestion.”
“They’relookingatme.Mostofthemhaven’tseenmesincetheBigScandal.”
“Isthatwhyyouwantmetoplaygirlfriend?Soeveryoneforgetsyou’renotadoctor?You’ddofarbettertohandoutyourbusinesscard.Quittouchingme.Ican’tthinkstraight.”Itugmyarm.
“Ican’tseemtostopnowI’vestarted.”Hegathersmecloseranddipshismouthdowntomyear.“Areyouthissoftallover?”
“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Iwanttoknow.”HislipsbrushmyearlobeandIcan’trememberwhatwe’retalkingabout.
“Whyareyouactingsokissyandboyfriend-y?”Iwatchhiseyesclosely,andwhenheanswers,Iknowwithdeepcertaintythatheisnottellingmesomething.
“I’vetoldyou.You’remymoralsupport.”
“Forwhat?WhatamImissing?”Myvoicegetsalittlesharpandsomeheadsclosetousturn.“Josh,IfeellikeI’mwaitingfortheothershoetodrop.”
Hestrokeshishanddownthesideofmyneck.Ishiversohardheseesit.Whenhebendstopressakissagainstmylips,myeyelidsdropshut,andthere’snothingintheworldbuthim.Iwanttoexistonlyhere;inthedark,thefeelofhisforearminthesmallofmyback.Hislipstellingme,Lucy,stopfretting.It’sanunfairmove.
IopenmyeyesandacouplewhoIthinkareMindy’sparentsareclearlytalkingaboutus.Bothhavebusybodyspeculativeeyesastheyinspectme.
“Quittryingtodistractme.Weneedtogetthroughdinner.Andyou’regoingtocomeupwithsometopicsofconversationandtalktoyourfamily.Whyareyoubeingsoshy?”AssoonasIsayit,Iunderstand.“Oh.Becauseyouareshy.”
Mynewrevelationgivesmeaslightlydifferentangletoviewhimfrom.“AllthistimeIthoughtyouwerejustanarrogantasshole.Imean,youare.Butthere’smoretoit.You’reactuallyincrediblyshy.”HeblinksandIknowI’mrightonthemoney.
Astrangesensationstirsinmychest.Itunfolds,growstwiceaslarge,thenagain.Itdoesn’tstop;itgetsfaster,bigger,feathersandfluffstuffingmychestlikeacushion.Idon’tknowwhat’shappening,butit’sfillingupmythroatandIcan’tfindanybreath.Heseemstoknowsomethingishappeningwithme,buthedoesn’tpressmeonit;instead,hisarmrisestohugmyshoulders,hisotherhandcradlingmyhead.Again,ItrytospeakbutIcan’t.HejustholdsmeandIsqueezemyhandsuselesslyonhislapelsandtheredfoyerinthefardistancesparkleslikeajewel.
“Josh,”Elainesays.“Oh,hereyouare.”Hervoicewarms.Joshpivotswithoutreleasingme,slidingmyshoesalongthemarblefloor.
Hereyesarealittletoobrightwhenshelooksatusboth.“Whenyou’reready,wouldyouliketojoinusinside?You’reatourtable.”
“I’llbringhimrightin.”
TheunfoldinginmychestcrumplesalittlewhenIrealizehismotherishappytoseehimwithsomeone.Istraightenupandhishandsslidetomylowerback.PeopleshuffleintotaketheirseatsandIseeheadscraneastheywalkpasttolookatus.
“WhoamI?”Itryonelasttime.“Yourhousekeeper?Yourpianoteacher?”
“You’reShortcake,”hesayssimply.“Youdon’tneedtomakeupanything.Comeon.Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
IfeelsometrepidationasIapproachourtableandJoshstiffensup.Weeaseintoourchairsandspendafewminutesstudyingthetabledecorationsandournamecards.Theothersaretyped,butmineishandwritten,I’mguessingduetothelateRSVP.
Thetableseatseight.Me,Josh,hismomanddad,Mindy’sparents,andMindy’sbrotherandsister.I’mattheheadfamilytable.IfIhadknownthiswouldhappenwhenIbrashlyofferedmyservicesasJosh’schauffeur,Iwouldhavepunchedmyselfintheface.
IchatalittletoMindy’sbrother,seatedtomyleft.Glassesareclinked.I’mprayingJoshwillsaysomething,anything.I’mabouttoaimalittlejabatthesideofhisthighwhenthesilenceisbrokenbyElaine.Thedreadedquestion.
“Lucy,telleveryonehowyoumetJosh.”
InwardlyIshriek.I’veansweredthissamequestionatleasteighttimestoday,anditnevergetsanyeasier.“Well.Well,uh…”
Ohcrap,I’msoundinglikeapriced-by-the-hourescortwhohasn’tthoughtofagoodenoughlie.Whatdidweagreeagain?I’mShortcake?Ican’ttellthemthat.IfIeverwasgoingtohumiliateJosh,nowwouldbethetime.Icanalmostimaginesayingit.Heforcedmetocome.
“Weworktogether,”Joshsayscalmly,rippinghisdinnerrollinhalf.“Wemetatwork.”
“Anofficeromance,”Elainesays,winkingatAnthony.“Thebestkind.Whatdidyouthinkofhimwhenyoufirstlaideyesonhim?”
IknowabornromanticwhenIseeone.She’samotherwhowilltakeanycomplimentofheroffspringasacomplimenttoherself.She’slookingathimnowwithherheartinhereyes,andIcannothelpfallingabitinlovewithhermyself.
“Ithought,goodgrief,he’stall.”EveryoneexceptAnthonylaughs.He’sstudyinghisfork,checkingforcleanliness.
“Howtallareyou,Lucy?”Mindy’smother,Diane,asks.Yetanotherdreadedquestion.
“Fivewholefeet.”Mystandardanswerthatalwaysgetsalaugh.
Waitstaffarebeginningtopassoutthestartersandmystomachmakesahungrygurgle.
“AndwhatdidyouthinkwhenyousawLucy?”Elaineprompts.Wemayaswellbesittinginthemiddleofthetablelikedecorativecenterpieces.Thisisgettingridiculous.
“IthoughtshehadthebestsmileI’deverseen,”Joshreplies,matter-of-fact.DianeandElainebothlookateachotherandbitetheirlips,eyeswidening,eyebrowsrising.Iknowthatlook.It’stheHopefulMomlook.
ButevenIcan’tstopmyselffromblurting,“Didyou?”
Ifhe’slying,he’sabsolutelyoutdoinghimself.Iknowhisfacebetterthanmyown,andIcan’tpickit.Henodsandgesturesatmyplate.
IlearnthatPatrickandMindyaregoingtoHawaiifortheirhoneymoon.
“I’vealwayswantedtogothere.Ineedsomesun.Avacationsoundsgoodrightaboutnow.”Ipushawaymyplate,whichI’vepracticallylickedclean,andrememberthatatriptoSkyDiamondStrawberriesisonthenearhorizon.IstarttotellJosh,becausehe’ssofascinatedwiththatplace,buthismotherinterrupts.
“Isworkbusy?”Elaineasks.
Inod.“Sobusy.AndJoshisjustasbusy.”
InoticeAnthonymakealittlesnort,lookingawaydismissively.Boy,isthatexpressionfamiliar.Joshgoesrigid,andElainegivesherhusbandafrown.
ThemaincoursesareservedandIbegindismantlingitwithgusto.Tinyhairlinecracksoftensionarestartingtorunthroughthemeal.Imustbeincrediblyslow,butIcan’tworkoutthesourceofit.True,Anthonyhasn’tsaidmuch,butheseemslikeaniceenoughman.Elaineisgrowingmoretense,hersmilemoreforced,assheattemptstokeepthemoodlight.IcanseeherstartingtoglanceatAnthony,hereyesimploringhim.
Asthewaitstaffcleartheplatesafterourmaincourses,Icanseeallthemajorplayersgettingreadyfortheirspeeches.Anthonytakesanindexcardfromhisinnerpocket.Astheytestthemicrophone,ItugmychairalittleclosertoJoshandhedropsonearmovermyshoulders.Ileanbackintohim.
There’saspeechfromthebestmanandMindy’smaidofhonor.HerfathermakesaspeechwelcomingPatricktothefamily,andIsmileatthesincereringinhisvoice.Hetalksabouthispleasureingainingason.JoshhugsmecloserandIlethim.
Anthonytakesthepodiumandlooksathisindexcardwithanexpressionborderingondistaste.Heleansdowntothemicrophone.
“Elainewrotemesomesuggestions,butIthinkI’llwingit.”Hisvoiceisslow,deliberate,withapinchofsarcasmI’mbeginningtounderstandishereditaryamongtheTemplemanmales.
Alaughscattersthroughtheroom,andJoshsitsupstraighter.Idon’tneedtolooktoknowhe’sfrowning.
“I’vealwaysexpectedgreatthingsofmyson.”Anthonyholdstheedgesofthepodiumandlooksatthecrowd.Hischoiceofwordsalsoimpliesthathehasonlyoneson.MaybeI’mjustreadingtoomuchintoit.
“Andhehasn’tdisappointedme.Notonce.NeverhaveIgottenthecalleveryparentdreads.The‘Hey,Dad,I’mstuckinMexico’call.NevergotthatfromPatrick.”Biggerlaughsfromthecrowdnow.
“Notfromme,either,”Joshmuttersintomyear.
“Hegraduatedinthetopfivepercentofhisclass.It’sbeenaprivilegewatchinghimgrowintothemanyouseehere,”Anthonyintones.“Hisrangeofexperiencehasgonefromstrengthtostrengthandhe’swellrespectedbyhispeers.”
Ican’tdetectanyparticularemotioninhisvoice,buthedoeslookatPatrickforafractiontoolong.
“Imustsay,thedayhegraduatedmedschool,IcouldseemyselfinPatrick.Anditwasarelief,knowingwe’dcontinuethemedicaldynasty.”
Behindmyear,IhearJoshdrawinasharpbreath.Hisarmfeelsincreasinglyviselikearoundmyshoulders.
Anthonyliftshisglass.“ButIbelieveyou’reonlyasstrongasthepersonyouchoosetoliveyourlifewith.Andtoday,bymarryingMelinda,he’smademeaproudfatheryetagain.AndMindy,mightIsay,you’vechosenanoutstandingTemplemantomarry.Mindy,welcometoourfamily.”
Weraiseourglasses,butJoshdoesnot.Ilookovermyshoulderandseetwopeople,headstogether,whisperingandwatchingus.Mindy’smotherlooksatJoshwithrawpity.
MindyandPatrickcutthecakeandfeedeachotherasquare.I’vebeenlookingforwardtosomecakeformostoftheday,andI’mnotdisappointed.Ahugewedgeofsomethingchocolateandheavyisplacedinfrontofme.
“Greatspeech.Thanksforthatlittleremark,”Joshtellshisfather.
“Itwasajoke.”AnthonysmilesatElaine,butshe’snotpleased.
“Hilarious.”Herglareturnsglacial.
Iknowwhenasubjectchangeisinorder.“Thiscakelookslikedeathbychocolate.Ihopeit’snottoonaughty.”
“Youwouldbeamazedbythedamagetoarteriescausedbyhigh-fatdiets,”Anthonypipesup.
“Wouldyousaytheoccasionaltreatisokay?Ihopeso.”I’mforkingthecakeintomymouth.
“Ideally,no.Saturatedfat,transfats,oncetheygointoyourarteries,theyaren’tcomingout.UnlessyouhaveaheartattackandsomeonelikeElainehastofixyou.”
“He’salittlestrictwithhimself,”ElaineassuresmeasIdropmyforkwithaclatterandpressmyhandstomychest.“Treatsareokay.They’rebetterthanokay.”
“Sheaskedmyopinion,”Anthonypointsoutgravely.“AndIgaveit.”
Inoticehe’sgotnocakeinfrontofhim.I’mremindedoftheall-staffmeeting.Joshdidn’teatanycakethen,either.Iglancesideways,andtomysurpriseJoshpicksuphisforkandbeginseatingcaketoo.It’sagreatbiggiantfuck-youtohisdad.OverandoverweforkcakeintoourgreedyfacesuntilAnthony’sforeheadpinchesindistaste,clearlyunusedtohavinghissageadviceignored.
“Self-indulgenceisatrickything.Itcanbehardtogetyourselfbackontrackonceyoubeginindulgingtriviallittleimpulses.”Anthonyisnottalkingaboutcake.Joshdropshisforkwithaclatter.
Elainelookswretched.“Anthony,please.Leavehimalone.”
“Comewithme,”Itellhim,andtomymildsurpriseherisesobedientlyandwalkswithmetotheshadowededgeoftheemptydancefloor.
“Canyoupleaseexplainwhat’sgoingon?Thistensionisexcruciating.I’msorry,butyourdadisbeingadick.Ishealwayslikethis?”
Hejamsahandintohishair.“Likefather,likeson.”
“No,you’renotlikethis.He’sbeingbitchyandyourmomisupset.Hisspeechwassoweird.”EverysingletimeIfeelprotectiveofJosh,therealizationpingsmerightinthesolarplexus.Itakehishand,whichisfoldedintoafist,andsmoothmyhandovertheknuckles.
Hewatchesmyfingers.“Dinner’sover.We’vegottenthroughit.That’sallIcareabout.”
“Butwhydoesitfeellikealleyesareonyou?Itseemslikeeveryoneinthisroomislookingatyou,wonderingifyou’recopingokay.It’slike,Hanginthere,sport.”
“Ithinkthey’llassumeI’mnotsufferingtoobadly.”Heloopsahandaroundmywaist,andtheglowofhisflatteryhitsmybloodstream,alongwithprobablytwothousandpremiumcakecalories.
“They’rewrong.NoonemakesyousufferlikeIdo.”Ireceiveasmileformycleverness.“Areyouokay?PleasetellmeaboutthisBigScandalthatthey’reallwhisperingabout.Icannotfathomthatyoudecidingtonotbeadoctorcouldcausesuchafuss.”
It’sraretoseeJoshprocrastinate,buthedoesnow.“It’salongstory.Bathroomfirst.”
“Ifyouclimboutthewindow,I’mgoingtobereallymad.”
“I’llbeback,Ipromise.I’lltellyouthewholesorrytale.Willyoubeokayforaminute?”
“I’vehadtomakefriendswithhalfthepeopleinthisroom,remember?I’msureI’llfindsomeonetohangoutwith.”IwatchhimgoandstrikethemostcasualposeIcanmanage.
Ihaven’tactuallyspokentoMindyyet.Outside,shewasalwaysbeingmovedaroundbythephotographers,butshe’dsmiledatmeandIhavetheimpressionthatsheisnice.She’snearbyspeakinganimatedlytoanoldercouple.Whentheymoveaway,Ismileandwavetentatively.Ifeelbadshehastohavestrangersatherwedding.
“Hello,Mindy,I’mLucy.I’mJoshua’s,ah,plus-one.Thankyousomuchforhavingmehere.Theceremonywaslovely.AndIloveyourdress.”
“Nicetomeetyou.I’vebeendyingto.”Shesmilesbroadly,herdarkeyeslitwithundisguisedinterestasshelooksmeover.
“You’rethegirlwho’smeltedtheiceman.”
“Oh!Um.Idon’tknowaboutmelted…Iceman?”I’matmyarticulatebest.
“YouknowJoshandIdatedforayear?”Shewavesherhandquicklyasifitwerenothing.
“What?No.”Mystomachfoldsinhalf.Andinhalfagain.Sheputsonehandtoherhairandsmoothesthealreadyperfectstyle.It’sblond.She’stall,tan,andbrowneyed.She’sTallBlondie.
Mymouthisprobablyaperfectcircle.Iamspeechless.Itisalldroppingintoplace.Howhumiliatingwoulditbetogoalonetoyourex-girlfriend’swedding?Especiallywhenshe’smarryingyourbrother?
“HowlongagodidyoumeetPatrick?”Iamtryingtokeepmyvoicemodulated.Isoundlikemycar’sGPS.
“I’dknownhimwhiledatingJosh,ofcourse.WhenallthatbusinesswithJosh’sworkgoingthroughthemerger,IstartedtalkingtoPatricktotrytounderstandwhyJoshwasbeingsodistant.Heisn’tmuchofatalker,asyouknow.”
IlookatallthestrangerswhohavebeenstaringatJoshallnight.They’vebeenwonderinghowhe’scopingwithseeingthisbeautifulwomanmarryhisbrother.Ayear.Theywouldhavedefinitelyslepttogether.Thiswillowy,immaculateblondehaslaininhisbed.Kissedhismouth.Iswallowacid.
“PatrickandIjustclicked.It’sbeenabitofawhirlwind;weonlygotengagedsixmonthsago.Istillfeelbadaboutit,butJoshandIwerenotagoodfit.Ifoundhismoodstobescarysometimes.Istillhardlyknowwhattotalktohimabout.I’msorry,I’mbeingrude.Pleasedon’ttellhimIsaidthat.”
IfeellikeI’mabouttoburstintotearsandMindywatchesmewithgrowingalarm.
“I’msorry,Lucy,Ithoughthewouldhavetoldyou.He’ssohappywithyou.Ineverwouldhaveimaginedhe’dbesocompletelysmitten.Heneverwaswithme.Isupposeitdoesmakesense.Intensemenlikehimusuallyfallprettyhard,whentheyeventuallydo.”
Iforcemyselftosmile,butit’snotconvincing.Ican’tberesponsibleforruiningMindy’shappyweddingbuzz,butinsideI’mbreaking.HowcouldIhavebeensostupidtothinkhewaswalkingmearound,showingmeoff,fornothing?I’mmoralsupportwhileheattendshisex-girlfriend’swedding.Ifthatisn’tthedefinitionofarent-a-dateIdon’tknowwhatis.
“Oh,Lucy.Sorrytoupsetyou,especiallyifyoutwoareearlydays.ButJoshisyours.”
Imanageaweaklaugh.He’sreallynot.
“Patrickisespeciallysurprised.Whatdidhesay?Somethinglike,I’veneverseenJoshlooklikehehasaheart.”
“Hehasaheart.”Aself-servingheart,butaheartnonetheless.
Awedding-planner-typepersonindicatestoMindyandshewaves.
“Hisheartisallyours,”Mindysaysandpatsmyarm.“I’llbetossingthebouquetnow.I’llaimrightforyou.”
Sheweavesthroughherguests,aspoisedandgorgeousasI’llneverbe.
Armsslidearoundmefrombehind.Akissonthebackofmyneck,dilutedbymyhair.TheeffectisstillsopotentIhavetogulp.TheDJhasbeguncallingthesingleladiesontothedancefloor.Thefreak-outisbuildinginmygut.Mypalmssweat.Ineedtogetout.
“Hi.Where’sallyournewfriends?”Hebeginstopushmeintothegrowinggroupofcontenders.
“No,Josh.Ican’t.”
Peoplearewatchingus.I’montheknife-edgeofneedingtomakeascenebutknowingIcan’t.Thetearsandpanicarewellingupinsideme.Usuallyperceptive,hedoesn’tseethemthistime
“Where’syourcompetitivespirit?”JoshgivesmeonelastfirmpushandI’mpropelledintoaragtagbunchoffemales,rangingfromalispingflowergirltoawomaninherearlyfiftieswhoseemstobedoinghamstringstretches.Everyonelooksatthebouquet.It’slovely.Weallwantit.
IseeJosh’smomonthesidelines.Shesmilesatme,andthenitfades,concernfillinghereyes.Whoknowswhatmyfacelookslike.MindycatchesmyeyeandIcanseehergenuineregretthatshehasupsetme.Joshrepositionsforabetterviewandheandhismotherswapglances.Shegesturestohim,hebendshisheadandshetellshimsomething.Helooksatmesharply.
It’salltoomuch.
“Herewego!”Mindyturnsherbackonusandmimesdoingsomepracticeswings.Thebouquetisapink-lilyconfection.
Ihardlyregistertheslapoftheflowersagainstmychest.Theydropdownintothewaitingarmsoftheflowergirl,whoscreamsindelight.Theentireaudienceisshakingtheirheadsandlaughingatmylackofcoordination.Everyoneturnstothepersonnexttothemandsays,Shecouldhavecaughtthat.
I’msodisappointedinnotcatchingthemthefreak-outistriggeredinfull.
Ipolitelylaughandmanagetowalkslowlyfromtheotherendofthedancefloor,weavingthroughthespectators.NowI’mrunning.Ineedtogetoutofthisroom.Iknowhe’llbecomingafterme,soinsteadofchoosingthemostobvioussanctuary—theladiesroom—Igodownthewaitstaffpassagewayandfindmyselfinthegardenbesidethehotel.
Afewboysinwhiteshirtsandtiesaresmokingandfiddlingwiththeircellphones.Theylookatmewithboredexpressions.IpickupmypaceuntilI’mtrotting,running,thespikesofmyheelsbarelytouchingtheground.IwanttorununtilIreachthewater.Iwanttoleapintoarowboatandsailtoadesertedisland.
OnlythenwillIbeabletofaceuptoit.
IhavefeelingsforJoshuaTempleman.Irreversible,stupid,andill-advisedfeelings.Whyelsewouldthishurtsomuch?Whydideverythinginmeachetowrapmyarmsaroundtheweddingbouquetandseehimsmile?Iditheralongthewater’sedge.
Thefootstepsapproachingcometoofast.Ibitebackaswellofimpatienceandopenmymouthtogivehimapieceofmymind.
ThenIseeit’sJoshua’smother.Chapter24
Oh,hi,”Imanagetosay.“Just…gettingsomeair.”
Elainelooksatme,andopensherpurseandfindsherpackofKleenex.I’mconfusedbyituntilIpressittomyeyeanditcomesawaywet.
Westand,lookingatthewaterglitteringdarklyunderthefadingsunsetsky.I’mtooupsettocomprehendI’mabouttounloadtohismother.Anysympatheticearatthispointwilldome.It’snotlikeI’lleverseeheragain.
“HenevertoldmeaboutMindy.”
Sheisaggrieved,andfrownsbackacrossthelawns.“Heshouldhave.Youshouldn’thavefoundoutthisway.”
“Itallmakessomuchsense.Ican’tbelieveI’vebeensostupid.Thewayhe’sbeenactinghasbeenprettyunbelievable.”
“Likehe’sinlovewithyou.”
“Yes.”Myvoicebreaksalittle.“Hetoldmeoncehe’sagoodactor.Ican’tbelievethis.”
Shesaysnothingandputsherhandonmyshoulder.Everysingleglimmeroffoolishhopefeelsextinguishedinthismoment.
“Idon’tthinkhehasbeenplayingagame.”Elaine’smouthtwists.
Thewordgameonlycrystallizesfurtherthehurtinmygut.
“Oh,I’msorry,butyouhavenoideahowgoodatgamesheis.Everydayofourworkingrelationship,MondaytoFriday.Thishasgottobethefirsttimehe’splayedmeontheweekend,though.”
Elainelookspastme,andIcanseeJosh’ssilhouettepacingalongthesideofthebuildinginagitation.Sheshakesherheadandhestops.
“Whydidyoucometoday?”Sheisgenuinelycurious.
“Iowedhimafavor.HetoldmeIwascomingalongformoralsupport.Ididn’tknowwhy,butIcameanyway.Ithoughtitwassomethingtodowithhimdroppingoutofmedicine.AndnowIfindouthisex-girlfriendismarryinghisbrother?I’minasoapoperarightnow.”
Elainesteadiesmewithahandonmyelbow.Whenshespeaks,she’sgotafondsmileteasingattheedgeofherlips.
“IspeaktohimonSundays,andI’veknownyouforaslongashe’sknownyou.Abeautifulgirl,bluesteyes,reddestlips,blackesthair.Hedescribesyoulikeafairy-talecharacter.He’sneverquitedecidedonprincessorvillain.”
Iputmyhandsintomyhairandmaketwofists.“Villain.Ifeelliketheworld’sbiggestidiottoevenbelieveforonedayhecouldbeso…”Ican’tfinish.
“You’rethegirlhecallsShortcake.WhenIfirstheardyournickname,Iknew.Iwilltellyounow,he’sneverlookedatanyonethewayhelooksatyou.”
Iamstartingtofeelirritatedwiththislovelywoman.It’sprettyclearshe’ssobiasedIcannolongeruseherasasoundingboard.Shecannotbelievehersonwoulddoanythingsohurtful.Iopenmymouthbutshesilencesmefirmly.
“HedatedMindy.I’msogladtohaveherforadaughter-in-law.Sweetaspie.Cinderellahasn’tgotanythingonMindy.”
“She’slovely.She’snotmyissue.”
“ButsheneverchallengedJosh.Youhavesincethefirstdayyoumethim.Youmakehimangry.You’veneverbeenscaredofhim.You’vetakenthetimetotrytounderstandhim,justtogettheupperhandinyourlittleofficeskirmishes.Younoticehim.”
“I’vetriednotto.”
“NeitherJoshnorhisfatherareeasymen.Somemenareadelight.Patrick,forexample.Reasonable,calm,readywithasmile.Joshhasanicknameforhim,too.Mr.NiceGuy.It’strue.Heis.IttakesastrongwomantolovesomeonelikeJosh,andIthinkit’syou.Patrick’sanopenbook.Joshisasafety-depositbox.Buthe’sworthit.Youwon’tbelieveme,andIcan’tblameyoutonight,butsoishisfather.”
ElainewavesJoshoverandhebeginsstridingtowardus.
“Pleasegoeasyonhim.Youcouldhavecaughtthebouquet,”sheadmonishesme.“Ifyou’dputyourarmsoutalittle.”
“Icouldn’t.”
ShekissesmycheekandhugsmewithsuchkindfamiliarityIclosemyeyes.
“Youwilloneday.Ifyoudecidetostay,we’rehavingafamilybreakfastattenA.M.intherestaurant.I’dreallylovetoseeyouboth.”Shewalksbackdownthepath,wheresheinterceptsJosh.
Theybeginurgentlyconferring.Great.She’sgivingtheenemyawarningofwhathe’sinfor.Iamsotiredofbeinginthisplace,bythiswater,underthissky.Igoandsitonalowconcretebenchandtrytocrammyheartbackintomychest.EvenhismotherthoughtJoshwasinlove.
“YoufoundoutabouttheMindything.”Inthetwentyyardsittookforhimtogettome,he’snodoubtframedhisargument.
“Yep.Welldone.Yousurefooledme.”
“Fooledyou?”HesitsbesidemeandreachesformyhandbutIpullaway.
“Cuttheshit.Iknowyou’vebeenparadingmearoundinfrontofMindyandherfamily.Maybeyoushouldhavehiredsomeonebetterlookingthanme.”
“Doyouseriouslybelievethat’swhyyou’rehere?”Hehastheaudacitytolookshaken.
“Imaginebeinginmyposition.Itakeyoutomyex-boyfriend’sweddingandI’malloveryoulikearash.Imakeyoufeelspecial.Important.Imakeyoufeelbeautiful.”
There’satremorinmyvoice.“Andthenyoufindout,andsuddenlyyou’releftwonderingifitwasreal.”
“YoubeingherehasnothingtodowithMindy.Atall.”
“Butshe’stheTallBlondieyoubrokeupwithafterthemerger,right?She’stheonewetalkedaboutinbedthismorning.Yourbigoldheartbreak.Whydidn’tyoujusttellmethismorning?”Iputmyhandsovermyfaceandleanmyelbowsonmyknees.
Joshturnssidewaysinhisseat.“Wewereinbed,andyouwerejuststartingtolookatmelikeyoudidn’thateme.Andshe’snotmyheartbreak.”
Icuthimoff.“Icouldhandlebeingarent-a-date,butyoureallyshouldhavebeenclearwithmeupfront.Thatwasadickmove,andfrankly,I’mmadatmyselffornotexpectingyou’ddosomethinglikethis.”
Josh’surgencyisgrowing.Heputshishandonmyshoulderandturnsmegentlytowardhim.Westareintoeachother’seyes.
“IwantedyouherebecauseIalwayswantyouwithme.Idon’tcarethatshe’sjustmarriedPatrick.It’sancienthistorytome.HowcouldItellyouthismorning,andruinthemoment?Iknewhowyou’dreact.Justlikethis.”
“You’redamnrightI’mreactinglikethis.”Likeatearyfire-breathingdragon.“Didn’tIspecificallyaskyouiftherewasanytouchysubjectIneededtoknowabout,soI’dbeforewarned?Youcouldhavetoldmebackintheoffice.Daysago.Notnow.”
“Youwouldneverhaveagreedtocomeunderthosecircumstances,hadyouknown.Youwouldhaverefusedtobelievethisweekendcouldbeanythingmorethananact.Whateveryourreaction,itwouldn’thavebeengood.”
Igrudginglyadmittomyselfthathe’sprobablyright.Evenifhehadmanagedtogetmetocome,IprobablywouldhaveinventedacharacterandIdefinitelywouldhavewornfalseeyelashes.
Hetouchesafingertiptomywrist.“I’vehadmyfocusonotherthings,believeitornot.Mom’sflowerarrangements.Dad’smood.Yourbloodsugar.Tellingyouaboutthisjustfadedawaytotheedges.”Helooksacrossthewaterandpullshistieloose.“Mindyisaniceperson.ButIdidn’tbringyouheretoshowherhowwellI’vemovedon.Idon’tcarewhatshethinks.”
“Idon’tbelieveyoucanbesocoolaboutthissituation.”Ican’tdetectanyemotioninhiseyesatallashecastshiseyesbackacrossthewater,contemplating.
“Shewasnevergoingtobemywife,putitthatway.Wewerewrongforeachother.”
Hearinghisvoicesaymywifemakesmegotoostill.Eyesfrozenandunblinking.Pupilsdilatedtoblackcoins.Terrorandpanicandpossessiontorchesmythroatdry.Idon’twanttoexaminewhyIfeelthisway.I’dratherjumpinthewaterandstartswimming.
Helooksatmesideways,hisfacetense.“NowthatI’vepromisedthatyou’renothereassomepartofanelaboraterevengescenario,canyoutellmetherealreasonthisbothersyousomuch?Otherthanmyliebyomission,andpeoplestaringatus?Peoplethatyouneverhavetoseeagain?”
Thisisskatingwaytooclosetomytangled-upnewfeelings.Itryforseverallongmomentstocomeupwithananswerthatsoundsevenhalfwaycredible,butwhenIcan’tIgettomyfeetandwalksofastbacktothehotelhehastolengthenhisstridetokeepup.
“Wait.”
“I’mgettingabushome.”Itrytoclosetheelevatordooronhimbutheshouldersineasily.Ipressthebuttonforourflooranddigformyphonetolookupabusschedule.Ihavenoideawhattimeitis.Ihaveseveralmissedcalls.JoshtriestospeakbutIputmyhandupuntilhecrosseshisarms,exasperated.
Iclickthroughthemdistractedly;Dannyhasbeentryingtogetaholdofmeacoupleoftimesthroughouttheafternoon.Ihaveafewtextsalongthelinesof,Doyouhaveafontpreference?…I’llchoosethen…Couldyoucallmebackwhenyoucan?
Theelevatorbings.
Joshlookslikehe’sonesecondawayfromgoingstark-ravinginsane.Iknowthefeeling.
“Leavemealone,”ItellhimwithasmuchdignityasIcanandwalktothefarendofthecorridor,whereapairofarmchairsarearrangedbesideabaywindow.Duringtheday,thiswouldbeanicespottositwithabook.Intheevening,asthelastpeachglowsofsunleavethesky,it’stheperfectplacetofume.
Isitdownanddialalocalbuscompany.Alate-nightexpressisleavingatsevenfifteen,andtheyarealreadystoppingbythehoteltopickupsomeoneelse.Thegodsaresmilinguponme.
GoingbacktotheroomwillmeanhavingtofinishthingswithJosh,andIamburned-out.Ahusk.Ihavenothingleft.Ineedtoprocrastinate.
Dannyanswersonthesecondring.
“Hi,”hesays,tonealittlestiff.Nothingmoreannoyingthananuncontactableclient,Iimagine.Especiallyoneyou’redoingafavorfor.
“Hi,sorryI’vebeenoutoftouch.I’vebeenataweddingandmyphoneisonsilent.”
“It’sokay.Ijustfinished.”
“Thankyousomuch.Diditallgookay?”
“Yep,forthemostpart.I’mathomenowcheckingitonmyiPad,flippingthroughthepages.Theformattinglooksgood.Whoseweddingisit?”
“Thebrotherofacompleteasshole.”
“You’rewithJoshua.”
“How’dyouguess?”
“Ihadafeeling.”Helaughs.“Don’tworry.Yoursecretsareallsafewithme.”
“Ihopeso.”Icouldn’tcarelessatthispoint.ItwouldservemerighttobehumiliatedinthehallsofB&G.
“Whenareyouback?I’dliketoshowyouthefinalproduct.”
“Tomorrowatsomepoint.I’llcallyouwhenI’mbackintownandIcanmeetyou.”
“IfyoucomeoveronMondayeveningitwouldworkforme.I’vekeptthespreadsheetthatyouwanted.Itbreaksdownthetimeittook,alongwithwhatIthinkcostswouldbebyadesignerinausualcommercialsetting,butalsoasalariedstaffmember.”
“I’mimpressed.MaybeIshouldbringyouathank-youpizza.”
“Yes,please.”Danny’svoicedropsacheekyhalfoctave.“So,whatdidyouweartothiswedding?”
“Abluedress?”IseeJosh’sreflectionovermeinthewindowandjumpinfright.HetakesthephoneoutofmyhandandlooksatthecallerID.
“It’sJoshua.Don’tcallheragain.Yes,I’mserious.”Hehangsitupandslidesitintohispocket.
“Hey.Giveitback.”
“Nofuckingchance.He’swhoyouhadtosneakoffandcall?”Thelookinhiseyesisgettingsharper,blacker.
“It’sworkrelated!”
Hetugsonmyhandstomakemestandup.Adooropensnearus,tooclosetootherroomstoindulgeinoneofoursignatureyellingmatches.Webothpurseourlipsandmarchintoourroom.Itrynottoslamthedoor.
“Well?”Joshcrosseshisarms.
“Itwasworkrelated.”
“Sure.Awork-relatedcall.Dinner?Whatareyouwearing?”Heskatesnarrowedeyesoverme,likehe’scontemplatingrippingtheskinrightoffme.Icanrelate.Iwanttopunchhimintheface.Energyandangerismakingtheairalmostsulfuric.ThethingaboutJoshuais,evenwhenhe’sfurious,he’sstillexquisitetolookat.Maybeevenmoresothanusual.He’sallglitteryblackeyesandanangrytensingjaw.Messed-uphairandahandonhiship,pullinghisblueshirttight.Itmakesbeingangrybackwithhimjustthatlittlebitharder,becauseIhavetotrytonotnotice.It’sanunachievableendeavorthatIhavealwaysstruggledwith,aslongasI’veknownhim.Butstill,Ipersevere.
“You’vegotnorighttolectureme.IknewthiswasadisasterthesecondIgotintoyourcar.”Ikickoffbothmyshoesacrosstheroom.“I’mleavingsoon.There’sabus.”Igrabatmybagandhestopsmewitharaisedhand
“InbetweenDannyandMindy,we’vekindofhadourfairshareofjealousrevelationstoday,don’tyouthink?I’mgoingtocrackifyoudon’tjustlistentomeforonce.”Hewrenchesouthiscufflinksandtossesthemonthedresserandshovesuphissleeves,mutteringtohimself.“Littlefuckingasshole.Whatisshewearing?Thatguyhasafuckingdeathwish.”
TheexpressiononhisfacemakesmewonderifI’vegotadeathwishtoo.Itrytopositionmyselfbehindthearmchair,justtogivemyselftheillusionofspace,buthepointsbetweenhisleathershoes.
“Don’thide.Getoverhere.”
“Thisbetterbegood.”Icrosstheroomtostandinfrontofhimandputmyhandsonmyhips,justtopuffmyselfup.Hetakesafewlongmomentstodecidehowtoproceed.
“Twosimpleissuesfirst.DannyandMindy.”Helookslikehe’stakingcontrolofaboardmeeting.Hepracticallyhasapresentationslidebehindhim.
“DoyoucareaboutDanny?Couldyoulovehimoneday?”Thoseeyesbelongtothekingoftheserialkillers.
“IcalledDannyaboutsomethingforwork.Somethingtodowithmyinterview.Youalreadyknowthis!ForgivemefornotwantingtospillmysecretstothepersonI’mcompetingagainst.”
“Answermyquestion.”
“No,andno.He’shelpingmewithsomethingI’musinginmypresentation.It’sadesignjob,andhe’safreelancernow.He’sdoingmeamassivefavor,workingovertheweekend.ButIcouldn’tcarelessifIneversawhimagain.”
Hisinsaneeyesdialdownafewnotches.“Well,Icouldn’tcarelessaboutMindy.It’swhysheleftmeformybrother.”
“Youcouldhavetoldme.Backinyourapartment,onyourcouch.Iwouldhavetriedtounderstand.Wewerealmostfriendsthen.”Irealizesomethingelsethat’sbotheringme.Hedidn’ttrustmewiththis.
“IfinallyhaveyoucomingovertositonmycouchandyouthinkI’mgoingtotellyouabouthowIwassuchaterribleboyfriendsheendedupwithmybrother?It’snotreallyaglowingendorsementofmycharacter.Gee,wouldn’tyouwanttostickaroundafterhearingthat?”Icanspotthefaintwashofdarkercoloronhischeekbones.He’sembarrassedashell.
“WhyamIevenhere?Moralsupport,remember?”Iwatchhimtryandfailseveraltimestostart.
“Ifanyonehasbrokenmyheart,itwasn’tMindy.Itwasmydad.”Heputshishandoverhisface.“YouwerealwaysrightaboutwhyIneededmoralsupport.Nobigconspiracy.It’smedicine.Mequitting,failing,disappointing.You’reherebecauseI’mscaredofmyownfuckingdad.”
“Whatdidyourdaddo?”Icanbarelyaskit.WhenIthinkofdads,Ithinkofmyown.Abig,funnysonicboomsinceIwasakid,alwayssurprisingmewithSmurfsandbeard-burncheekkisses.Iknowtherearebaddads.WhenIseethelookonJosh’sface,Iwishtogodhedidn’thaveone.
“He’signoredmemyentirelife.”
Itsoundslikethefirsttimehe’sspokenthosewords.Helooksattheground,miserable.Icreepclosertohim.Anotherweirdkaleidoscopictwist?Hishurtmakesmyownhearthurt.
“Hashehityou?Hasheforcedyouintomedicine?”
Joshshrugs.“TheBritishroyalfamilyhaveanexpression.Theheirandthespare.I’mthespare.Patrickwasfirstborn.Dad’snotoneofthosepeoplewho’swillingtodilutehisefforts,ifyouknowwhatImean.Theywereonlyeverplanningonhavingonekidtoo.Iwasasurprise.”
“Youwouldhavebeenwanted.”Ihavehiscrumpledcuffinmyhandnow,andIgivehimanawkwardlittleshake.“Lookathowmuchyourmomlovesyou.”
“ButtoDad,Iwasnotintheplan.Patrickhasalwaysbeenhisfocus,andlookwhereheisnow.Thebestson,effectivelytheonlyson,makingDadproudonhisweddingday.”
Hewon’tmeetmyeyes.We’reminingsomeold,deep,painfulterritoryhere.
“NothingIdidratedamention.Dadwouldn’tpayacenttowardmytuition,butMomdid.Istudiedmyassoff,likeacompletesuckerforpunishment.Nothingpleasedhim.”Thebitternessinhisvoicesoundslikeitischokinghim
MyangerhassteamedoutofmyporesnowandIcan’tdoanythingbutputmyarmsaroundhimandhuguntilmyarmsache.
“IthoughtifIcouldbecomeadoctortoo,maybe…”
“He’dnoticeyou.”Justlikehismomsaid.
“Andmeanwhileperfect,goldenchildPatrick,whocandonowrong,wasmakingitlookeasy.ThethingaboutPatrickis,he’ssonice.He’ssogoddamnnice.He’lldoanythingforanyone.Evengetupinthemiddleofthenightanddriveovertohelpmewithyou.Man,canhebeanynicer?Itmakesitimpossibleformetohatehim.AndIwantto.Sobad.”
“He’syourbrother.”Ilinkmyarmintohis.“It’sobvioushe’ddoanythingforyou.”
“There’saperfectson,andthenthere’sme.Imayaswellbethebestatsomething,evenifitisbeinganasshole.I’llneverbenice.Youneedtoimaginewhatitwaslikegrowingupwithaparentlikehim.I’vehadtomakemyselfthisway.”
IthinkofhimstompingaroundatB&G,tryingtohidehisshynessandinsecuritybehindthatmask.
“IhatetobreakittoyouJosh,butunderneathitall,you’renicetoo.”
“I’vegotnointerestinbeingthesecondbestatanything.I’mneverbeingsecondagain.”
Hisvoiceisiron-cladwithdetermination.Ithinkofthepromotion,andsomedeeppartofmybrainsighs,Ohfuckit.
“Isthiswhyyou’vealwayshatedme?I’msonice.I’mwaytooniceandyou’vealwayshatedit.”Itugthesleeveofmydressalittlestraighter.
“Itkilledmetowatchyoutryyourheartoutforpeoplewhowereusingyourkindness.Itmademewanttostandupforyou,andprotectyoufromit.Icouldn’tthough,becauseyouhatedme,soIhadtogetyoutostandupforyourself.”
“Andmynicenessmadeitimpossibletohateme?”Hopefulnesshasrenderedmepathetic.
Heputsathumbundermychinandtiltsmyface.“Yeah.”
“Well,thisisasadstory.”Whenhekissesmeonthecheek,Iknowitisanapology,andIsuspectthatI’llprobablyacceptit.
“Don’tgetmewrong.Ididn’thavesometraumaticchildhoodoranything,Ialwayshadaroofovermyheadandsoforth.Andmymotheristhebest,”hesays,affectioninhistonenow.“Ican’tcomplain.”
“Yesyoucan.”
Helooksatme,surprised.
“Nooneshouldeverbeignored,ormadetofeelunimportant.You’veachievedalotofthingsinyourcareer,andyoushouldbeproudofyourself.”Iemphasizethelastword.“Youcancomplainallyouwant.I’mTeamJosh,remember?”
“Areyou?”Ihearsomeofthetensionmeltoutofhimalittle.“IneverthoughtI’dhearthosewordsfallfromyourFlamethrowerlips.Notaftertonight.”
“Youandmeboth.Sowhathappenedafteryoucompletedpremed?”
“Surelyyourdadmusthavetakennoticeofyouthen.”
“Mommadethebiggestfussever.Shethrewaparty.Itseemedlikeeveryonewho’deverknownmewasinvited.Itwasatourhousehere.It’sonthebeach.Isupposeitwasagreatparty,inretrospect.ButDadwasn’tthere.”
“Heskippedit?”Ihughim,restingmycheekonhischest.Ifeelhishandsslideupmyback,likehe’ssoothingme
“Yeah,hedidn’tbothertoswapshiftsatthehospitallikeMomhadaskedhimto.Heskippeditentirely.WhenPatrickcompletedpremedDadgavehimourgrandfather’sRolex.Forme,hecouldn’tevenbotherturningup.He’salwaysknownIwasn’tcutoutforit.Watchingmetrysohardmademepathetic.”
“Sohimnotturninguptothepartymeansyouhaven’tspokentoyourfatherproperlyforfiveyears?You’vegottoseeit’shurtingyourmom.She’sgotpermanentlysparklyeyesfromtryingnottocry.”
“ThatnightIgotincrediblydrunk.Iwassittingdowntherebymyselfonthesandbythewater,emptyingthisbottleofwhiskeyintomymouth.Alone.Melodramatic.Behindmeisthehouse,filledwithpeople,butnoonehadnoticedtheguestofhonorwasgone.”
Helooksalittleamused,butIknowunderneathitisadeephurt.Irememberlookingathimonceintheteammeeting,athousandyearsago,andwonderingifheeverfeltisolated.Iknowtheanswernow.
“Soyousatoutthere?Drunk?Whatdidyoudo?Goinandmakeascene?”
“No,butIrealizedsomethingI’dworkedsohardfor—hisapproval—hadresultedinabsolutelynooutcome.I’mlikehim,maybe.Whytry?Whybother?Idecidedthenandtheretoquittrying.I’dgoandgetthefirstjobIcould.”
Heturnsmealittleinhisarms,andwhenheholdsmecloseagain,he’srubbingmyshoulderlikeI’mtheonewhoneedscomfort.
“Istoppedmakinganykindofefforttoengagewithhim,anditwaslikethebiggestsourceofstressinmylifewasremoved.Istopped.Ithought,whenhewantstobeafathertome,he’llmakethemove.”
“Andhehasn’t?”
Joshkeepstalkinglikehehasn’tevenheardme.
“Thethingthatgetsmeis,whenIswitchedtodoinganMBAatnightwhileworkingatBexley,hewasunimpressed.Likehe’dhadanykindofopinion.LikeIwasn’tevennoticedoracknowledgedenoughtodisappoint.ButIhave.Overandover,myentirelife.Mycareerisajoketohim.”
I’msurprisedbyhowangryI’mgetting.IthinkofAnthony,hisfacepermanentlytwistedintoasarcasticexpression.
“He’slostsomethingspecialinyou.Whyishelikethis?”
“Idon’tknow.IfIknew,maybeIcouldchangeit.He’sjustbeenthatwaywithme,andmostpeople.”
“ButJosh,thisiswhatIdon’tget.You’resooverqualifiedforwhatyoudoatBandG.”
“Webothare,”hetellsme.
“Whydoyoustay?”
“Priortothemerger,Inearlyquiteveryday.ButIalreadyhadthefamilyreputationasaquitter.”
“Andpostmerger?”
Helooksaway,andIseetheedgeofhismouthbeginningtocurlinasmile
“Thejobhadafewgoodthingsaboutit.”
“Youenjoyedfightingwithmetoomuch.”
“Yeah,”headmits.
“HowdidyouendupworkingatBexley,anyway?”
“Iappliedfortwentyjobsinafitofrage.ItwasthefirstofferIgot.RichardBexley’slowlyservant.”
“Youdidn’tevencare?IwantedtoworkforapublishersobadlyIcriedwhenIheardI’dgotthejob.”
Hehasthegracetolookguilty.“Isupposeyou’dthinkitwasunfairifIgotthepromotionnow.”
“No.Theprocessisbasedonmerit.ButJosh,you’vegottoknow.It’smydream.BandGismydream.”
Hedoesn’tsayanything.Whatcouldhesay?
“Soyoureallydidn’tbringmealongtoshowMindyyou’dmovedonwithsomehotlittledweeb?”
Iknowhisfacebetterthanmyown,andIcan’tseeatraceofalie.Whenhespeaks,thereisnone.
“Icouldn’tfacehimwithoutyou.Iamanembarrassment.Droppedoutofmedschool,administrativejob,lostthegirltomybrother.I’mnothingtohim.MindyandPatrickcanhavetenchildrenandbemarriedforahundredyearsforallIcare.Goodlucktothem.”
Iletmyselfsayit.“Okay.Ibelieveyou.”
Wesitinsilenceforamomentbeforehespeaksagain.“Theworstthingis,IkeepwonderingwhatI’dbenowifI’dstuckwithmedicine.”
“I’vegotsomuchinsidemeIhavenoideaabout.I’mlikethemayorofacityI’veneverseen.”
Hesmilesatmyphrasing.“Ifyouknewthekindoflittlemiracleshappeningeverymomentyoubreathein,youwouldn’tbeabletohandleit.Avalvecouldcloseandnotopen;anarterycouldsplit,youcoulddie.Atanymoment.It’snothingbutmiraclesinsideyourtinycity.”Hepressesakisstomytemple.
“Holyshit.”Iclutchathim.
“Youwouldn’tbelievethestatsonpeoplewhogotobedonenightandneverwakeup.Normal,healthypeoplewhoaren’tevenold.”
“Whywouldyoutellmethis?Isthiswhatyouthinkabout?”
There’sthelongestpause.“Iusedto.Notsomuchanymore.”
“IthinkIpreferreditwhenIthoughtIwasfullofwhitebonesandredgoo.WhyamInowthinkingaboutdyingtonight?”
“NowyouseewhyIcan’tdosmalltalk.SorryDadscaredyouaboutthecake.He’sjealoushecan’tlethimselfgoenoughtoenjoysomething.Idon’tthinkI’veeatencakeinafewyears.Man,itwasgood.”
“Filthylittlepigs,thepairofus.Wanttogodownstairsandseeifthere’sanyleft?”
Helooksatmewithguardedhope.“You’renotleaving?”
Iremembermyplanstogetthebushome.“No,I’mnotleaving.”
It’shelpfulhe’sstillsittingonthedresser.ItmeanswhenIstepcloserandtakehisfaceinmyhands,Icanreachhimwithonlyalittletiptoeing.ItmeansIcanfeelthetinglingsparksjumpingintheairbetweenourlips,hissighofreliefthattastessweeterthansugar.Hispulsejumpsundermyfingertips.It’saprettyconvolutedgamewe’veplayedtomakeittothismoment.
It’shelpfulhe’sstillsittingonthedresser,becauseIcanpullhislipstomine.Chapter25
WhenIkisshim,hisexhalationislong,untilhe’ssurelycompletelyempty.Iwanttofillhimbackup.Idon’trealizeituntilafewminutesofdreamy,meltingminuteshavepassedthatI’vebeentalkingtohimwithmykiss.Youmatter.You’reimportanttome.Thismatters.
Iknowthatheunderstands,becausethereisafinetremorinhishandsasheslidesonefingernailupthesideseamofmydress,acrossmyshoulderstomynape.Hetellsmethings,too.You’rewhoIwant.You’realwaysbeautiful.Thisreallymatters.
Hetoyswiththezipperofmydressforatiny,jinglingeternity,andthenpullsitdown.Itmakesasoundlikeaneedledraggingacrossarecord.Hedeepensthekiss,andIpushcloserinbetweenhisknees,andwildhorsescouldnotdragmeawayfromthismanandthisroom.IwillkisshimuntilIdieofexhaustion.WhenIfeelthesharpedgeofhisteethonmylips,IknowI’mnotaloneinthis.
Iletthedressdropandstepoutofit,bendingtopickitup.Self-consciousnessprevailsandIhidebehinditalittle,untilIlooksosillythatIhavenochoicetoholditaside.Ihadtowearanivorybodysuitunderthedress,likealittleswimsuit,togiveitasmoothline,andithaslittlesuspendersholdingupmystockings.Sleepysaurus,itain’t.
Joshlookslikehe’sbeenstabbedinthegut.
“Holyshit,”hesaysfaintly.
Ihandhimthedressandputmyhandonmyhip.Hiseyeseateverylineandcurveofme,evenashishandsneatlyfoldmydressinhalf.Mylegsareridiculouslyshort,andIdon’thavethebenefitofmyheels,butthewayhelooksatmemakesmytinykneesweak.
“You’vegoneabitquietonmehere,Josh.”IslidemyfingerundertheshoulderstrapofthisridiculousthingI’mwearing,andpause.Iseehisthroatswallow.
Iputmyhandsonhisneck,squeezebrieflyinastrangle,thenslidethemdown.He’ssosolid,heavy,theheatradiatingfromwithinthemusclesflexingundermypalms.Istepincloser,andputmyfaceintohisthroat,andbreathehimin.Iclosemyeyesandbegmyselftorememberthis.Please,rememberthiswhenyou’reahundredyearsold
Hishandsslidedownmywaisttotakemybuttinbothhands,andwhenIbegintokisshisthroathesqueezesmetighter.
“Shirtoff.Comeonnow.”Myvoiceisroughandcajoling.Hebeginsunbuttoninghisshirt,lookingdazed.WhenheshrugsoutoftheshirtIcanseehisbackinthereflectionofthedressermirror.“You’vestillgotpaintballbruises.Idotoo.”
Myfreehandisgropingalonghischest,andIbreakoffthekisstowatchmyselfdoit.ThemusclesareallstackedtogetherlikeLEGOs.Ipressmyfingertipstowatchhisfleshgive.Hishandshaven’tmovedfrommyass,buthisfingertipshavesliddowntostrokethelittleribbonsholdingupmystockings.TostopmyselffrommakinganembarrassinglyloudmoanIkisshimagain,wrigglingclosertohim.
“Ihaditallplanned.”Hefinallyfindshisvoiceagain,movingmebackwardsmoothlytothebed.Hehaulsthecoverletawayandlaysmebackagainstthesheetswitheasystrength.
“Itwasgoingtobealittlemoreromanticthanahotelroom.”
Josh,thinkingaboutromance?Myheartcan’ttakeit.Hecapturesmymouthinakiss,andit’ssogentleIcouldcry.
“See,”hesaysintomymouth.“Idon’thateyou,Lucy.”
Histonguetouchesmine,tentative,shy.Hedropshimselfdownonhiselbows,cagingmewithhisbiceps,andittriggersthememoryofhimpressingmeagainstatree,shieldingme,coveringme
Iwasalwayscoveringforyou.
Isigh,andhebreathesitin.“That’sit…”
Istretchandwriggleunderneathhisweight.“You’resobig.Itgetsmehot.”
“Andyou’resotiny.Itmakesmewonderaboutallthewayswe’llfittogether.It’sallI’vebeenthinkingaboutsincethedaywemet.”
“Oh,sure.Themomentousdayyoulookedatme,headtotoe,thenoutthewindow.”
He’sgivingmythroatthesoftestbitesimaginable.Heslideshisfingersintomineaboveourheadsandwe’renowholdinghands.Howdidwegetbackhere?Tothistenderplaceaftertheblazeofangerburnedusbothup?It’ssosweet,socompletelysoftandgentleandJosh
“Ifwedothistonight,I’mnotgoingtoletyougetweirdonme.”Hiseyesaresolemnashebraceshimselfupalittle.“Areyougoingtohaveoneofyourinfamousfreak-outs?”
“Idon’tknow.Verypossibly.”Itryforajokebuthe’snotremotelyamused.
“IwishIknewhowmuchIhaveofyou.HowmuchdoIget?”He’skissingmeonthethroatagain,fingerstighteningonmine.
“Untiltheinterviews,yougetitall,”Isayintohisskin,andheletsoutashakybreath,likeI’veofferedhimforever,notafewdays.
Webeginkissingagain,andthefrictionofmythighagainsthisgroinisspurringhimintoaslightlyheavierrhythm.Hismouthiswet,soft,delicious.Themomenthestops,eventotakeaproperbreath,Itughimback.
Afteraneternity,hetangleshishandinthestraponmyshoulder.Herunsitlasciviouslythroughhisfingerspullingittaut,releasingitwiththefaintestsnap,andthendoesitagain.
“Thezip’sattheside,”Itellhim.TechnicallyIthinkIbeggedhim.
Heignoresmecompletelyandinsteadslideshisfingerdowntothebowbetweenmybreasts.“ThesmallestbowI’veeverseen.”Hedipshisheadandbitesit.
We’regoingsoslowly,Iwouldn’tbesurprisedtoopenmyeyesandseedaylight.He’salwayscompletelydifferentfromwhatIexpect.Softinsteadofhard.Slowinsteadoffast.Shyinsteadofbrash.Mypreviousboyfriendsandanyoftheiregg-timerforeplayattemptsaredistantmemoriesnowthatI’mexperiencingtheintensepleasureoflyingunderneathJosh.
Heslidesahandintomyhairandthescrapeofhisnailsagainstmyscalpmakesmyskinbreakintogoosebumps.Helicksthem.Hecoilsupsmoothlytokneelbetweenmyfeet,seeminglyjustforabetterview.Itworksforme.Iwatchhisstomachflex,andImakeasoundlikeohhgah.
“Howdoyouevenlooklikethis?”
“Idon’thaveanythingbettertodothangotothegym.”
“Youdonow.”
Isituptooanddragmymouthacrossthemuscles,andIdowhatI’vealwayswantedto.Igetmyhandsonhisass,anditisfabulous.
HishandsslideintomyhairandIbeginmakingoutwithhisstomach.Ican’thelpmyself.Ifindalittlebitofhair,andlookuptoseehe’sgotalightdustingonhischest,inalinedown,disappearingbeyondthewaistbandofhissuitpants.
“Hornyeyes,”hetellsmeshakily.
“Nokidding.Iwanttosnortyou.Youalwayssmellamazing.”IpressmynoseintohisskinandbreatheinashardasIcan,andhebeginstolaugh.Ilookupathimandgrin.
Hisfingersarerestingonthezipatmyside.
“I’mcompletelycoveredinbruises,”Isaybywayofadisclaimer.Isuckmystomachin,lookingathisabs.
“You’recutewhenyougetshy.I’llgoslow.”Heeasesonestrapdown,letsitrestagainstmyarm.Hedoesthesamewiththeotherone.Hebiteshislip.“I’mgoingtositdown.Ifeeltootall.”
There’sabriefreshufflewhenheleansagainsttheheadboardandIsettlebetweenhislegsandrestbackagainsthim.Hishandsspreadovermyshoulders,andmyeyescloseashebeginstorub,thesweetest,moststrangelytimedmassage.Mostmenwouldbeunzippingandfeelingbynow,buthe’snotmostmen
“Yousatlikethiswhenyouweresick.”
Hecontinuestomassage,thefrictionbetweenusbloomingoutward.Hescoopsmyhairawayandpresseshismouthonthesideofmyneck.I’llbarelybeabletoremembermyownnameatthisrate.
Heslideshishandintothesatinandweighsmybarebreastinhishand.Slowly,gently,hisfingerspinch.
“Oh,yeah,”hegroans,andpresseshismouthbacktomyneck.
IhearthesoundImake.Thekindofharshintakepeopleusuallymakefromextremepain.ExceptIfeellikeI’mhalfwaytoorgasm.
“Imagineallthethingswe’regoingtodo,”hesays,almosttohimself.
“Idon’twanttoimagine.Iwanttoknow.”Myfeetarescramblinguselesslyagainstthesheets,likeI’mbeingelectrocuted.
“Youwill.Buttonightisn’tenough,Icanalreadyfeelit.I’vealwaystoldyou,Ineeddays.Weeks.”
Ibarelynoticethezipperslidingdown.He’seasingmeoutofthestretchysatin,becausethefeelingofhisbigpalmssmoothingovermeissublime.I’mbeingcoddledandpatted,skinwarmed,everythingadmired.WhenImanagetoopenmyeyes,hisbreathissteaminghotunderneathmyearandthecreamfabricispuddledatmywaist.Heunclipsmystockingsandleansovermyshouldertolookatme.
“Mmm.”Hehookshisfingersintothesidesofthefabricatmyhips,tugsitdownmylegsandI’mnakedexceptformystockings.
Iseethelegofhissuitpants,whichmakesmynudityfeelevenmorevulnerable.Ibringmykneesup,tryingtohidemyself,butthere’snopoint.Hemakeskind,soothingsoundsagainstthebackofmyear.Hishugehandstrokesdownmyhip,mythigh,thenclaspsmywaist.Theotherhandfollowssuit.
“Lucy,”isallhecanseemtosay.“Lucy.HowamIgoingtowalkawayfromtonight?Seriously.How?”
Igetgoosebumps.I’mwonderingthesamething.Iletmyheaddroptooneside,andwekiss.
I’mhoarseandbreathless.“I’mgonnadietonight.Pleasetakeyourpantsoff.”
“Iwantthatembroideredonapillow,”hesays,andIlaughuntilI’mgasping.
“You’resofunny.I’vealwaysthoughtso.Icouldneverlaugh,butIwantedto.”
“Ah,sothat’soneofyourrules.”Heslidesoffthebed,handonthebuttonathiswaistband.“Sotheaimofthegameistonotlaugh?”
“Theaimistomaketheotherpersonlaugh.Comeon.I’mgettingcold.”I’mgettingimpatient,morelike.HepullsthesheetsandblanketsovermewhenIshiverandIwatchhimlikealecherouscreepashemanagestoeasethezipdownonhispants.
“Ihavemyownrules.Andtheaimofthegameisdifferentforme.”
WatchingJoshtakeoffapairofsuitpantsisonanotherlevel.He’sinthesestretchyblacktrunks.They’rebadlybentoutofshapeinfront.
“Dotell.Comeon.”
Heslidesthoseshortsdown,andmymouthdropsopen.Seemsthatevenmyfeveredimaginationwaswoefullyinadequate.I’mabouttotellhimthatheisgloriouswhenhesnapsthelampandweareplungedintodarkness.
“No!Josh,that’sabsolutelynotfair.Lighton.Iwanttolookatyou.”
IflailmyarmatthelampbutwhenheslidesintotheblanketsandIregisterthewarmthofhisbodyagainstmine,wemakeidenticalsoundsofdisbelief.Skintoskin.Theheatofit.
Ihavenoideawhereheisprecisely.He’salloverme.IthinkIfeelhisbreathinmyhair,butwerollalittleandwhenhesighsit’sdownnearmyribcage.It’sdisconcertinganderoticandInearlyjoltoutofmyskinwhenheslidesonehandacrossmyribs.
Anotherhandisdispensingwithmystockings,smoothingdownmylegs.He’stouchingmyankleandgentlypinchingatthelittlecurveofmywaist.I’vegothandsslidingalloverme.
“You’resosoftit’sridiculous.Everywheremyhandslides,youfitme.Iwassoright.”
Hedemonstrates.Throat.Breast.Ribs.Hips.Thenheshowsmehismouthfitsperfectlytoo.Myskinheatswitheverykissandpress.Helicksatthesheenofsweatbeginningtomistacrossme,andIhearafarawaysoundthatIrealizeisme.Whimpering,beggingnoises.Hetakesnonoticeandshowsnopity.Hepresseshisperfectmouthonwhateversectionofskinhepleases.Inchbyinch,heischartingmelikeamap.Whichisallverywell,exceptthatJoshhasabodythatIneedtogetmyhandson.Whenhe’spartwaythroughtraversingtheuppercurveofmyspine,mypleadingwhispersbegintowearhimdown.
“Pleaseletmetouchyou.”
Herelentsandrollsmeover,andIrunmyhandsdownhisnecktothebigmusclesatthetopsofhisarms.Isqueeze.Ibite.Iusebothhandstostrokedownonebicep,weighingthemuscleinmyhand.It’ssuchapleasure,tobetouchingsomeoneelse.It’ssatin,thisskin.Mypalmstinglefromstrokingit.MymouthfitseverywherethatIcankisshim.Myeyesareadjusting,andIcanseetheglintinhiseyeasItakemytime,testingeverynewmuscle,tendon,andjointthatIencounter.
Inthedark,Islidemybodyagainsthis,feelinghissighs,andItughimdowntolieonmeproperly.
“I’mprettyheavy.I’llflattenyou.”
“I’vehadagoodlife.”
Helaughs,huskyandpleased,andobeysme,pressingmedownsofirmlyintothemattressIlosehalftheairinmylungs.
“Oh,sogood.Soheavy.Iloveit.”
HekneelsupafteranotherminutebecauseIamgraduallydying.Ireachdownbetweenusandtakeholdofhisintriguinghardness.Heletsmefondleandplayuntilhiseverybrokenbreathconvincesmeofthefactthathe’sfallingapartattheseams,andit’sbecauseofme.Ican’tthinkofanythingmoreIcouldwin.ButthenIfeelhismouthagainstmyhipbone,andthenhestartskissingmythighs.
Ihavetolaugh,bothfromtheticklingofhisstubbleandthememoryofouruniformargumentfromalifetimeago.Hekissesmythighsinopenmouthedreverence,whisperingthingsIcan’tproperlyhear.Theyfeelliketheymustbecomplimentarywords;thehotbreathpunctuatedwithlicks,bites,morekisses.Icouldneverwithstandthesoftpressureofthismouth,andthere’snodoubtinghisintention.Mylegsfallopen,andIstareintothedarkattheceiling.
Thefirsttouchisaswirl.Thekindoflickyou’dmaketothetopofameltingicecreamcone.IbreatheinsohardInearlysnort,andhekissesmyinnerthigh,areward.Ican’tformanyhumanwords.
Thesecondisakiss,andIthinkofhissignaturefirst-datekiss;chaste,soft,notongue.Thepromiseofeverythingtocome.Ihugapillowanddecidehe’snevergoingonafirstdatewithanyone,everagain.
Thethirdisakissagain,butitdisintegratesfromchastetodirtysoslowlyIbarelyknowwhenit’schanged.He’sgotallthetimeintheworldandwitheachminutetickingby,mybodysimultaneouslyrelaxesandwindstighter.Ifindmyvoiceandmanagetosoundcrispandprissy.
“Idon’tthinkthere’sanythingaboutdoingthisintheHRmanual.”
Icanfeelhimshiverandgroan.“Sorry,”hetellsme.“You’reright.”Hedoesn’tstop,butcontinuestoflaunttheHRregulationsforanuntoldnumberofminutes.
I’mshakingcloserandclosertotheblindingpersonalexplosionIfeelnearbyonthehorizon.FranklyI’msurprisedI’velastedthislong.Iputahanddownandsinkmyfingersintohishairandtug.
“Ican’thandleit.Please.Ineedmore.Way,waymore.”Islideaway,clutchingathim,pullinghimupbythearmwithsuperhumanstrength.Hesighsindulgentlyandkneelsup,andIfinallyhearthatmagicfoil-rip.
Hisvoicewouldsoundauthoritativewhenhespeaksnext,exceptithasashaky,breathlessedge,totallyundermininghisefforts.
“I’mfinallyhavingyou.”
“I’mfinallyhavingyou,”Icounter.
HedropsdownandI’msurprisedwhenthelampflickson.Dazzled,Iclosemyeyes,andwhenIopenthem,he’slookingatme.Theblack-sapphirefacetsofhiseyesaredoingstrangethingstomyheart.
“Hey,Shortcake.”Ourfingerstangleagainabovemyhead.
Thefirstpresshemakesisgentleandmybodytakes,andthentakessomemore.He’spressinghistempletomine,makingdesperatesounds,likehe’sinpain,likehe’stryingtolivethroughthis.Iinvoluntarilyclenchandhejerksforward,hard.MyheadnearlyhitstheheadboardandIlaugh.
“Sorry,”hesays,andIkisshischeek.
“Don’tapologizeDoitagain.”Chapter26
We’veneverplayedtheStaringGamewithyouinsideme.”Hishipsflexalittle,andmyeyelidsstarttoflutter.
Iwasexpectingthepleasureandpressure,giventhathe’shugeandI’msmall,butit’semotionnowtighteningmythroatuntilIcan’treply.It’shiseyes,andtheexpressioninthemashebeginstorollhiships,slickandeasy.There’snohardimpact,noteeth-chatteringthuds.Hemovesagainstmewithmeasuredcontrol.Thisisthehottestmomentofmylife.Ican’tprocesseachsensation.Afeelingsimilartofreakingoutisbeginningtofillmychest.
Ican’tkeepmycomposureunderhiseyes.Passionateeyes.Intense,fierce,fearlesseyes.Hewantsmetohandovereverything.Hewon’ttakeanythinglessfromme.
“Talktome.”Hetouchesmynosewithhis.Hisbreathisheavyandeven.
“Youwereright…youfitme,somehow.Oh,that’ssonice.”Icanbarelyspeak.“I’mfreakingoutslightly.”
“Nice,huh?”Helooksatmewithamusement.“Icanalwaysdobetterthannice.”
Heletsgoofmyfingertips,slidesahandundereachofmythighsandliftsmeafewinchesoffthebed.
“Niceisgood,niceisgood,”Ibabble.Mynextsoundisagroan.
JoshuaTemplemanreally,reallyknowswhathe’sdoing.
Myeyesrollbackintomyhead.Iknowtheydo,becausehesmilesabitandmoveshishipsagain.Theblanketsfallaway,andI’mfrontrow,lookinguphisgorgeousflexingmuscles,tohisface.
“I’mnotnice,”hetellsme.Slowly,webegintostretchagainsteachother,andit’smorerollingfriction.I’veneverfeltanythinglikeit.ItconfirmsthatnoguyI’veeverbeenwithhasdoneitright.Untilnow.
He’sfrowningalittleinconcentration.It’sgottobetheanglehe’screatedsoeasilythatseemstonudgealittleswitchinsidemybody.
“Hey.”Hehitsitagain,andthepleasureissointenseasobcatchesinmythroat.Againandagain.I’veneverplayedthisgamebefore.
Ihavenostrengthtoraisemyarmstohisshoulders.EverydistinctslideofhisbodyintomineistakingmeonestepclosertosomethingI’mfairlysurewillkillme.
“Areyoutired?”Itrytobeconsideratebutinsteadhepicksupthepace
Sweatbeginstomistmyskin.Myhandsscrabbleforpurchaseonthesheets.IfI’madeadweight,itdoesn’tseemtobotherhim.AllIcandoispressmyshouldersagainstthemattressandtrytosurvivethis.
“I’mdying,”Iwarnhim.“Josh,I’mdying.”
Joshliftsoneofmyanklestorestonhisshoulder.Hisarmhugsmyleg,andhestudiesmyfacewithinterestasheincreaseshispacefurther.Hiseyebrowspinchtogether.TheStaringGameistheabsolutebestwhenJoshishittingmylifelongnonexistentG-spot.Theonethatexistsnow.
“Holy.Holy…Josh.”
Whenhelaughsinresponseit’snearlymyundoing.
Here’smyproblem.Thisdoesn’thappen.Firstsexwithsomeoneisawkwardandyoutaketurnsandtrytoworkouteachother’slikesanddislikes.There’snosimultaneouswetdirtyscrewingandtryingtodelayyourorgasm.ButIam.Andheknowsit.
“Lucy.Quitholdingoff.”
“I’mnot,”Iprotest,butformylieheincreaseshisforce.Ibabbleathankyou.
“You’rewelcome,”hetellsmeandanglesmehigher.Ihavenoideahowhe’snottired.Iwillwriteathank-youcardtohispersonaltrainer.Ifmyhandcanevergripapenagain.Ibitemylip.Ican’tletthisend.Itellhimso.
“Forever,dothisforever,”Ibeg.I’mneartears.“Don’tstop.”
“Stubbornaren’tyou,Shortcake.”
“Ican’tletthisend.Please,Josh.Please,please,please…”
Hepresseshischeekagainstmycalfinsuchasweetlyaffectionategesture
“Itwon’tend,”hetellsme.
Icanseehe’sstartingtolosehimselfalittle.Hiseyesarelitinabrighthaze,andIseehimraisethemtotheceiling,prayingforsomething.Hisgorgeousskinisglowinggoldinthelamplight.
It’sasmooth,deeprollingthrustlikeanyoftheothers,butIbreak.
It’snotasweet,tamethingsweepingoverme.Myteethsnaptogether,Igripontohimandwringmyselfout.TheanguishedsoundImakeprobablywakeseverysinglepersoninthehotel,butIcan’tholditin.It’sviolent.Inearlykickhiminthejawbuthegrabsmyfootandholdsontome.Thepleasureboilsover,mybodytwists,squeezes,shakesmeout,andI’mout-of-my-mindcrazyforJoshuaTempleman.He’sright.Thiswillnotbeenough.Ineeddaysofthis.Weeks.Years.Millionsofyears.
I’mfalling,completelyfalling,andIlookupashefallstoo.
HeleansdownagainstmylegandIfeelhimshakinginrelease.Helooksdownatme,eyessuddenlyshy,andIraisemyhandtostrokehischeek.
Helowersmedowncarefully.Ican’timaginehowI’lllethimgo.Iwrapmyarmsaroundhisshouldersandpressmymouthtohiseyebrowandmychesthasacleaned-outfeelinglikeI’verunafewmiles.Hemustfeellikehe’sdoneatriathlon.
Helooksupatme.“HowYouDoing?”hewhisperssoftly.
“I’maghost.I’mdead.”
“Ididn’tknowIwaslethal,”hesaysandbeginstopullawayfromme,achinglyslowly.Ibegandpleadandsay,No,no,no.I’manaddict,completelyhooked,alreadywantingmynextfixwhilethecurrentoneisstillrunningbrightlythroughmyveins.Mybodytriestoholdontohimbuthekissesmyforeheadandapologizes.
“I’msorry,Igotta,”hesaysandwalksawayintothebathroom.Iwatchhisbacksideanddropbackintothepillows.
Bestsexofmyentirelife.BestbacksideIhaveeverseen.
“Isthatafact?”hesaysfromtheotherroom.SeemsIsaiditaloud.
Ilaymyforearmovermyeyesandtrytoregulatemybreathing.Ifeelthemattressdipandhepullstheblanketsupovermychillingskin,andturnsoffthelamp.
“Nowyou’regoingtobeunbearable.Butgoddamn,Josh.Goddamn.”I’mslurring.
“Goddamn,yourself,”hesays,andI’mtuggedintothecradleofhisarms.Ipressmycheekagainsthim,delightinginhissweat.
“Let’sworkoutagameplanforwhenwewakeup.Ican’thandleitifyougoweirdonme.”
“We’llsaygoodmorningpolitely,thenwe’lldoitagain.”IsoundlikeI’vehadastroke.Ifallasleepwithmyearpressedtohischest,listeningtohimlaugh.
ISOMEHOWSURVIVEuntilmorning.I’mwashingmyhandswhenIglanceupatthemirror.
“Oh,shit.”
“What?”
Iopenthedooracrack.Theroomisdimlylitbystrobesoflightthroughtheheavycurtains.
“Iforgottotakeoffmymakeup.IlooklikeAliceCooperagain.”
Myeyemakeupissmudgedblackanditmakesmyeyeslookmilky-blueandlurid.
“Again?You’velookedlikeAliceCooperbefore?”
“Yeah,themorningafterIwassick,InearlyscreamedwhenIsawmyself.”Ibrushmyteethandgetmyhairintoabun.
“Ilikeyouwhenyoulookalittlewrecked.”
“Well,you’dlikemerightnowthen.”
I’mintheshowerandtryinginvaintogetthetinypacketofsoapopenwhenIhearthedoorcreakandhe’sjoiningme,calmly,likewedothiseveryday.Lustelectrifiesme;thestrangestmixofjoyandfear.
“It’saShortcake-sizedsoap,”hecomments,takingitfrommeandbitingthepackage.Hepinchesthelittlecoinofsoapoutandholdsitupbetweenforefingerandthumb.
“Iamgoingtoenjoythis.”
IamsodazzledbythesightofhisvelvetygoldskinbeingstreakedwithwaterIcan’tdoanythingforafewminutesexceptstare,mytonguepeekingoutthecornerofmymouthlikeahungrydog.Thewaterchannelsdownbetweeneachmuscle,beforeoverflowingandsheeningtheflatplanes.
Theshadingofhairbeginsinthecenterofhischest,fanningoutwardtohisnipples,andmovingdownwardinathinlinetowardhisnavel.Afterbeingbombardedwithamillionbillboardsofshinymenintheirunderwear,Inearlyforgotmenhavehair.Ifollowthewaterdown,thethickerhair,theimposingjutofhiserection.Allofitwet.Beautifullyveined,enoughtomakemykneeslosetheirstrength.Hewasinsideme.Ineeditagain.IneeditsomanytimesIlosecount.
“Youare…”Ishakemyhead.Ihavetoclosemyeyes,torememberhowtospeakEnglish.He’stoomuch.Ican’thavepossiblycapturedthisbiggoldencreatureinsideaglasshotelshower,andhe’slookingatmewiththoseeyesIlovesomuch.
“Oh,no,I’mhideous,”hewhispers,mocktragic,andIfeelthesoappressagainstmycollarbone.Itstartstoswirlinalittlecircle,stickythenslick.
“Mypersonaltrainerwassosurethisdisguisewouldhelpwithwomen.Whatafuckingwasteoftimeandenergy.”
Idragmyeyesopen,andtheymustlooklikeI’vebeeninanopiumdenbecausehelaughs.
Ipressmythumbintothesmilelineonhischeek.“You’regorgeous.Beautiful.Ican’tbelieveyou.”
IbackawayuntilI’mpressedagainstthetiles,togetabetterview,andnowit’shisturntolookateverywetinchofme.Myarmsachewiththeeffortittakestonotcovermyself.Hisperfectmusclesmakemelookverysquishyincomparison.Hiseyesdarkenashelooksatmefromheadtotoe.
“Getoverhere,”hesaysfaintly.Itakehishandwhenheholdsitout.
Whatawaytostarttheday.Showeringwithmycolleagueandnemesis.
Assoonasthethoughtmaterializes,Iknowit’ssooutdatedIcan’tkeeplyingtomyself.Hetugsmeawayfromthefreezingtileandfacesmetowardthespray,recheckingthetemperaturebeforehepushesmeunder.Thenheputshisarmsaroundmefrombehindandgivesmewhatcanonlybedescribedasacuddle.Ipressbackfirmeragainsthisarousaltofeelhimgroan.
“HowYouDoing?Notweird?Freakingout?”Hesmootheslatherundermybreasts,downmyribs.Heliftsmyarmtoinspectit,andwecomparehandsizes.
“No,I’mfine.Howcomewedon’thavetoworryaboutyougettingweird?Mostgirlshavetoworryaboutguysmakingupanearly-morningtrainingsessionsotheycanescape.Andinthiscaseit’snotimplausible.”
“I’vebeenreadyforthisforalotlongerthanyouhave,”hesays.HeseemstoknowIdon’twanttogetmyhairwet,andturnsusalittle.Hisslipperyhandscoastalongmyhips.
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Howlong?”
“Averylongtime.”
“Ineverguessed.”
“I’mverysecretive.”Heisgentlyamused.
Icapturethesoap,whichisfastonitswaytobecomingatranslucentsliver.Istickittomypalm,anditgivesmeagoodexcusetostrokeoverhisbody,whilehistonguelicksatthewaterdropletsonmyjaw.
Welookateachother,nosetonose,eyeshalfshut,andeverythingspiralsout.Theedgesarenothingbutcoldair,butunderneaththisspraywegethotterandhotter,untilI’msureI’mnearlysweating.It’sthiskiss.
TheminutesandhoursfadeawaywhenI’mkissingJoshTempleman.There’snoarcofthesunrisingintothesky,noemptyinghotwatertank,nocheckouttime.Hetakeshistimewithme.He’sarareman;achievingthealmostimpossible.Hekissesmeintothepresentmoment.
It’ssomethingI’vealwayshaddifficultywithinpastrelationships:turningoffmybrain.Buthere,it’sonlyus.Ourlipsfindarhythm;thegentleupswingofapendulum,droppingawaytothelightestcurve,againandagain,untilthere’snothingleftformeinthisworldbuthisbody,mine,andthewaterspillingoverus,destinedtorefillacloud.
Hemakeswordslikeintimacyseeminadequate.Maybeit’sthewayheuseshisthumbtotiltmyface,theotherfingerssplayedbehindmyear,intomyhair.WhenItrytogaspamouthfulofair,hebreathesitintome.Myheadrollstotheside,dreamyandheavy,andhecupsmyjaw.Ilookupathim,andastarburstofemotionexpandsinsideme.Ithinkheseesitinmyeyes,becausehesmiles.
Nothingremindsmeofhowbighishandsarelikehavingthemonmybody.Hecupsmyribsinhispalms,thenslidesuptoshowmehowperfectlyIfillhishands.WhenIcan’thandlemuchmore,heturnsmetothewallandhisfingerssplaywingsacrossmyshoulderblades
Nailsscratchdownsmoothlyandhe’swhisperingagainstmyneck.
He’stellingmeI’mbeautiful.Themostdeliciousstrawberryshortcake.I’mthetastehe’llnevergetoutofhismouth.Andthathewantsmetobesure,completelysure,beforeImakeadecisionaboutus.
He’slickingthewaterfrommyshouldersasheeasesonebroadpalminbetweenmythighs.Ifeelmyfootslideacrossthetilesaninch.Two.Ishiverandheputsanarmacrossmycollarbones
Atthefirsttouchofhisfingertip,IhearthesoundImakeechoaroundus.Hebeginstowindmetighterwitheachgentlecirclehedraws,andIreachbehindme,capturinghiminreturn.Ourjointmoancreatesacavernousbuzzagainstthetiles.
“Giveeverythingtome,”hesaysintomyear.Irepeatitbacktohim.I’vegotnothingbutwet,hotmuscleagainstme,allaroundme,hismouthnippingatmyearlobeandhisstrongthrustintomyinadequatelysmallhand.Hedoesn’tseemtomind;infact,he’sstartingtogroan.
I’vegotproblemsofmyown.Liketryingtonotmakesomuchnoisepeopleoutsideourroomcanhearme.It’ssurprisinglydifficult,giventheheavenlyamountoffrictionheisgivingme.Shush,Joshhalflaughs.Ibegintoteeter,andhisteethscrapethenapeofmyneck.Itightenmygriponhim.Webothstretchtautandsnapatvirtuallythesamemoment.
Thisoneisanunfurlingbloom.Hischeekisrestingonthetileaboveme,andwewordlesslylookateachotherasweshake.It’sastrangething,watchingeachothercomeapart.IhaveafeelingIcouldgetusedtothis.
There’snopossiblewaytoadequatelyendamomentlikethis.Howdoesonetransitionbacktoreality?Thishotelroomneedsacommemorativeplaque.
“Ohshit!Breakfastissoon.Wegottahurry.Ineedtopackmybag.”
“Let’sskipit.”Hishandstoywiththecurveofmywaistandhips.Up,down.In,out.
“Yourmom’llbewaiting.Comeon.”
“No,”heyowlsunhappily,andhishandsslideupmyshoulders.
“No,”Itellhiminreturnandgetoutoftheshower,evadinghishands.Iwrapmyselfinatowelandcheckthetimebesidethebed.
“Comeon,fifteenminutes.Hurry,hurry.”
“I’llbooktheroomforanotherday.Wecanstayforhours.Wecouldlivehere.”
“Josh.Ilikeyourmom.AndIdon’tknowifI’mlameforwantingtomakeherhappy,andIdon’tknowifI’lleverseeheragainaftertoday.Iknowshemissesyou.Maybethat’smyroleinthiswholeweekend.Toforceyoutobewithyourfamilyagain.”
“Howsweet.ForcingmetodothingsIdon’twantto.Andofcourseyou’llseeheragain.”
“Fine.Putitthisway.IwasinvitedtobreakfastandI’mgoing.I’mstarving.Yousexedallofmyenergyout.Youdowhatyouwant.”
ImanagetogetsomemascaraonandhalfofmytoplipdoneinFlamethrower.ThenheeasesupbehindmeandIlookatusinthemirror.
Thedifferencesbetweenushaveneverbeenmorestark,ormoreerotic.Thecontrastofmeagainsthislarge,muscledgloryalmostbreaksmyresolve.Hegathersmyhairawayfromthesideofmyneckanddropshismouthinakiss.WemakeeyecontactinthemirrorandIletoutabrokenbreath.
Iwanttotellhim,yes,rentthisroomfortherestofourlives.IfIhadmoretime,Icouldmakeyouloveme.Therealizationhasmebythethroat.
I’dhavetobeblindtonotseethelightofaffectioninhiseyesashewrapshisarmstighterandbeginskissingthesideofmyneck.I’dhavetobeathousandyearsoldtoforgetthewayhekissesme.It’sthefreshnewbudofsomethingthatcouldonedaybesomethingremarkable,butIhaveseveredoubtsthatitcouldsurviveintherealworld.Thisbubblewe’rein?It’snotreality.Iwishitwas,andIwishwelivedhere.Allofthis,Ishouldsayoutloudtohim,butIdon’thavethecourage.
Iclosemyeyes.“Wecanhavebreakfastandthendrivebacktoyourapartmentatwarpspeed.”
“Fine.Nicelipstick,bytheway.”
ImanagetogettherestdoneandIblotonce.HetakesthetissuebeforeIcanscrunchitup.Heholdsituptoadmireit.
“Likeaheart.”
“HowaboutyoubuyalittlewhitecanvasandI’llkissitforyou.Somethingtoremembermeby.”
Igivehimacutewinktokeepthetonelight.ThesarcasticrejoinderthatIamexpectingnevereventuates,andinsteadheturnsandwalksoutofthebathroom.WhenIcomeoutafewminuteslaterwithmymakeupbagundermyarmhe’sdressedinjeansandaredT-shirt.
“I’veneverseenyouinred.Howcomeeverycolorintheflippin’rainbowsuitsyou?”
Heputsmycellphonenearmypurse,andthewhiterosehesavedfromhislapel.
“Youjustthinktheydo.”Hezipshisbagandstandsatthewindow,lookingoutatthewater.
IdiginmybagformyownjeansandtheblackcashmeresweaterI’mgladIpacked.Theairdownhereiscolder,fresherthanI’musedto.I’mgettingdressedandhe’snotwatching.Ihopslightlytogetthejeanszippedupandhedoesn’tturn.Iloudlysquirtperfumeintomycleavageandhedoesn’tevenflareanostril.
“Breakfastisgoingtobefine.”
“Yeah,sure,”hesaysfaintly.
Istickmyfeetintosomeflatsanddecidetoleavemyhairinitsbigmessydampbun.Iwalkupbehindhimandhughiswaist,restingmycheekboneagainstthelowercurveofhisshoulderblade.
“Tellmewhat’swrong.”
“I’maone-nightstand.ThisiseverythingI’vebeentryingtoavoid.I’vebeentryingtobuildsomething,notgiveyousomesenseofclosure.”
“No!Hey.HowhaveImadeyoufeelthisway?”Itugonhiselbowuntilhefacesme.
“You’reconstantlytalkinglikeit’salreadyover.Alipstickkisstorememberyouby?WhyamIgoingtoneedreminding,exactly?”
“We’renotworkingtogethermuchlonger.”
“Ihaven’twantedyouthislong,andgonethroughsomuch,andgivenupsomuch,tohaveyouforonenight.It’snotenough.”
He’sright,ofcourse.Theinterviewresulthangsoveruslikeascythe.Aflashofimpatiencehitsme.
“CanIstayatyourplacetonight?”It’sallIcanthinkoftosay.“CanIsleepinyourbed?”
“Iguess,”hesayssulkily,andItughimbytheloopsonhisjeansovertohissuitcase.
Ilookbackatthebed.Howsomuchcouldhavechangedinonespace?Maybehe’sthinkingthesamething.HekissesmyeyebrowsogentlyIfeeltearsbegintoprickbehindmyeyes.
Icatchaglimpseofthereceiptwhenwecheckout.Itwasroughlyaweek’srentforthismagicalhotelroom.HeslasheshissignaturelikeZorroontoit,andhugsmeclose.Mycheekpressesagainsthisperfectpectoral.
“Anddidyouhaveanicestay?”
TheelegantlygroomedreceptionistissmilingalittletoowidelyatJoshassheprocessesthecheckout.Sheseemstobewillfullyignoringmypresence,ormaybeshe’sjustdazzled.Ilookatherslicked-backblond-coilhairdo.Herchalkypinklipstickistoobrightagainsthertan.HotelBarbie.
“Yes,thanks,”herepliesabsently.“Greatwaterpressureintheshower.”
Ilookupathisfaceandwatchthecornerofhismouthquirk,thelittlesmilelinedeepening.
Thereceptionistisdefinitelyimagininghimintheshower.Hereyesstrayfrombiceptocomputerscreen.Screentohisface.Shestaplesandfoldsandsearchesfortheperfectlittleenvelopeforhisreceipt,eventhoughthecustomeratthenextcounterdidn’tgetone
Shefiddlesanddoesadozenotherlittlethingssoshecanlookatlittlesegmentsofhim.Shetellshimabouttheirloyaltyprogramandhowhisnextcheck-inwillbewithafreebottleofwine,andprobablyher,drapedacrosshisbed.Shereconfirmshisaddressandphonenumber.
I’mgimlet-eyedwithannoyance.Hedoesn’tnotice,andbeginskissingmytemple.Whocanblameher,though?
Amanbuiltlikethis,withafacelikethis,beingsoridiculouslysweetandtender?I’ddiealittletoo,watchingthis,andI’mtheoneonthereceivingend.It’slikeseeingabruisednightclubbouncercuddlingatutu-cladtoddler,oracagefighterblowingakisstohissweetheartinthefrontrow.Brute,rawmasculinitycontrastedwithgentlenessisthemostattractivethingonearth.
Joshisthemostattractivethingonearth.
Iwatchhereyeshardenspeculativelyassheglancesatme.Ispreadmyhandacrosshischest.Itsays,mine.Thetinyjealouscavewomaninmecan’tresist.
“Shallwebringyourcar?”
“Yes,”JoshsaysatthesamemomentIsay,“No.”
“No,we’rehavingbreakfast.Canweleaveourbagshere?”
“Ofcourse.”ShechecksJosh’sbarelefthand.Mybarelefthand.
“Thankyou,Mr.Templeman.”
“Ineedafakeweddingbandonyouifweevercameback,”Igrumbleaswewalkthroughthelobbytotherestaurant.
Joshnearlytripsoverhisownfoot.“Whyonearthwouldyousaythat?”
WewalkpasttheballroomandIcanseecleanerstakingdownthehugebunchesofMindy-pinkballoons.
“Thereceptionistwantedtojumponyou.Ican’tblameher,butsheesh.Iwasstandingrightthere.WhatamI,invisible?”
Joshlooksatmesideways.“Howprimal.”
Wepushthroughtheglassdoubledoorsandhepullsmetooneside.Icranearoundthedoorframe.Icanseehisfamily.Iraisemyhandtowavebuthetugsmebackandscoldsmeunintelligibly
“It’sabuffet.”Mydelightisevidentinmyvoice.“Lookatthosecroissants,plainandchocolate.Quick,there’snotmanyleft.”
“Iamgoingtoappealtoyouonelasttime.Let’sjustgo.Thingswentprettywellyesterday,family-wise.Let’scutourlosses.”
“Andwhat,screechoutofherelikeThelmaandLouise?”
“Theyalllovedyou.”
“I’mimmenselylovable.Josh,comeon.Croissants.I’mherewithyou.NoonewillhurtyouaslongasI’mhere.I’vegotmyinvisiblepaintballgun.Takemeinthere,feedmepastry,andthendrivemebacktoyourprettybluebedroom.”
Hepressesalittlekisstomylips.Ilookovermyshoulderatthereceptiondesk.
“Comeon,bebrave.Forgetaboutyourdadandfocusonyourmom.Beagentleman.I’mgoingin.”
IweavethroughtheroomandIhavenoideaifhe’sfollowing.Ifhe’snot,thisisgoingtobealittleawkwardChapter27
AtthetablebythewindowsitsElaineandAnthony,andMindyandPatrick.EveryonestopstalkingwhenIapproach.Iwavelikeadork.Everyonelookssurprised.
“Hi.”
“Lucy!Hello!”Elainerecoversfirstandlooksatthetable.Oh.Therearenosparechairs.We’rebarelyfiveminuteslate.Theyclearlyweren’texpectingustoturnup.Joshisdawdling,thankfully.
“Quick,quick!”Istartlookingaroundatothertables.
“Morechairs,”Elainegasps.Sheunderstandsperfectly.Ifhewalksoverhereandtherearenoseatsforus,he’llshrivelup.
Anthonysitsatthedaddy-endofthetableandcontinuesreadinghisfoldedupnewspaper.Nowait,medicaljournal.Jeez.Hemakesnoindicationhe’sawareofanyotherpeopleintheroom.
There’sagreatdealofshufflingandImanagetoborrowsparechairsfromanearbytable.BythetimeJosharriveswithaplateofcroissantsandacupoftea,we’reallsittingascasuallyaswecan,tryingtoslidetheplatesbackinfrontoftheiroriginalowners.
“Goodmorning,”everyonechimes.
“Hi,”hesayscautiously,andputstheplateandteainfrontofme.“Igotyouthelastones.”It’saplatefilledwithcroissantsandstrawberries.Hestrokeshishanddownthesideofmyneck.
“Sweetofyou.Thanks.”
“I’lljustgetsomething,”hesays,andretreats.Elainewatcheshim,partsad,partamused,andlooksatAnthony.
IsmileatMindytoshowI’mnotupsetanymore.Iprobablyhaveanuclearpost-orgasmicglow.Shetentativelysmilesback.
“Howdoyoufeel,Mrs.Templeman?”
Ididn’tputtoomuchthoughtintothequestion,butthewordsMrs.Templemanmakeherphysicallyjolt.MaybeI’mexceptionallyempathetic,butIfeellikeI’vedroppedabombshell.Thewordsringinmyears,offthewalls,rightthroughmybones.
Mrs.Templeman.Howprimal,indeed.
“Wrecked.I’msotiredIfeellikeI’mdreaming.Butinagoodway.”Shebreaksintoasmileandlooksatthetablecloth.
“Mrs.Templeman.Itsoundsso…”Shecoversherfacewithherhandsandsighsandlaughsanddorks.Getoutofmyhead,Mindy.
“Sorrywetookasmallertable,”Elainebegins,butIshakemyhead.
“It’sokay.Ihadtousemylassotogethimdownhere.”Imimeswingingaropeovermyheadandthewomenburstoutlaughing.Themensitsilently,readingandeating.
“Icanimagineit.Littlecowgirldragginghimbehindher,buckingandsnorting.”
“Idon’tknowwhyhemakessuchabigdealofeverything,”Patrickinterjectsmildly,takingaquickwincingmouthfulofhiscoffee.
Ihaveafeelinghe’salwayssobusyheeatsallofhismealsinpainfulscaldinggulpsandswallows.Maybeit’sadoctorthing.Ingestthefuelratherthanenjoyit.
“He’sshy.Leavehimalone.”
Patrickfrownsatmykid-sisterimpudence,andthenlaughs.HeglancesatJosh.
“Shy.Huh.”Icanseetherealizationdawningacrosshisface,likeitdidmineyesterday.Shynesstakessomanydifferentforms.Somepeopleareshyandsoft.Some,shyandhard.OrinJosh’scase,shy,andwrappedinmilitary-gradearmor.
“Josh,Lucy,thankyouforthegift,”MindysayswhenJoshtakeshisseat.Shecatchesmyeyeandsmiles,clearlythinkingIchoseit.
“Ineverdidseewhatheendedupchoosing.”Itakeahugebiteofcroissant.He’sgotonearmacrossthebackofmychair,hiswarmhandspreadacrossmyshoulder.
“ThemostbeautifulsetofWaterfordcrystalchampagneglasses,engravedwithourinitials.AndtwobottlesofMo?t.”
“Goodjob,Josh.”
“Theweddingwasnice,”Joshtellsher.Ilookathiseyesastheyassesseachother.It’sprobablythefirsttimethey’vefacedeachothersincethebreakup.Ialmostquiverwithconcentration,tryingtodetectanyresidualheartbreak,lust,resentment,loneliness.IfIhadwhiskers,theywouldbetwitching.
“Thanks,”Mindyreplies.ShelooksatherweddingringagainandthenatPatrickwithsuchhelplessdevotionIlookatJoshsharply.Ifeverhewasgoingtoreactbadlyitwouldbenow.Hesmiles,looksathisplate,andthenlooksatme.HekissesmytempleandI’mconvinced.
“HowhaveyoukeptLucyasecretfromusall?”Mindysaysasshecutshergrapefruit.
“Oh,youknow.Ikeepherinmybasement.”
“It’snotasbadasitsounds.He’smadeitcomfydownthere.”Everyonelaughs,exceptAnthony,naturally.
Ihavearefreshingrealization.I’mnottrying.ItexplainswhyI’msocomfortablesittinghere,eatingwithstrangers.Iftheylikeme,fine.Ifnot,Icanlive.ButIfeelthesamerelaxedslouchyfeelingIgetwhensittingwithmyfamily.IfItiltmyheadjustright,Ican’tseeAnthonyatall.
Mindylistssomeoftheothergiftstheyreceived.Patrick’snewgoldbandwinksinthepalesunshinefilteringinthroughtheclouds,andheoccasionallycurlshisthumbintotouchit.Mindywatcheshim,tendernessinhereyes.
Josh’sbreakfastistwopoachedeggs,asliceofwheattoast,andaheapofwiltedspinach.Hedrinkshiscoffeeintwoswallows.Ilookatmyownplateandpinchmystomachunderthetable.Hisbodyisatemple.Minewillbeahutmadeofbutteratthisrate.
“Morecoffee?”Igetupanddecidetobringmyselfbacksomemorefruit.Ican’tjustsitthereeatingpastry.Hesnagsmywristandlooksupatme.
Stay,hiseyestellme.Ipathimkindlyandhereluctantlyrelinquisheshismug.
“I’llberightback.Anyoneelse?”
Itakemytimefiddlingwiththecoffeemachine.Everything’salittlestiltedanditdoesoccurtomethatI’messentiallyanintruder.I’mtheonlyoneatthetablewho’snotaTempleman
AsIstrugglewiththelongplastictongstogetanothersliceofwatermelon,Iamdimlyawareofsharptones.I’mpilingmyplatewithabunchofgrapeswhenrealizationdawns.Ohshit.
IhurrybacktothetableandputdownmyplateandJosh’smug.Mindyisfrozen,eyesfrightened,andPatricklooksresigned.
“ButwhatIwanttoknowis,whywouldyouthrowawaypremed?AnymonkeycangetanMBA.”AnthonyhaslaidasidehisbreakfastreadingandisstaringdownJosh,gimlet-eyed.
Seriously,Iwasawayfromthetableformaybetwominutes.Howdidthisescalatesoquickly?Isupposeanuclearbombhasoneredbutton,andthatdoesn’ttakelongtopress.IputmyhandonthebackofJosh’sneck,likeI’mholdinganattackdogbythecollar.
“Forfuck’ssake.Ifyouknewanythingaboutit,you’dknowit’salmostimpossibletocompleteanexecutiveMBAwhileworkingfull-time.AndIdidit.AndIwasinthetoptwopercent.Igotfourjoboffers,andtwoofthosecompaniesstillcallme.”
“I’msurprisedyoufinishedit,ifitwassohard,”Anthonysays.“Ithoughtyourfavoritehobbywasquitting.”
“Hey,”Iblurt.I’mstillstanding,andIrealizeIhaveahandonmyhip.
“Lucy,they’rejust…”Elaineisunsureofwhattodo.“MaybeyoushouldtalktoJoshoutside,Anthony.”
Peopleatnearbytablesareallsittingwithcutleryloweredinvariousstagesofavidinterestorawkwardavoidance.
Joshlaughsmeanly.“Why,sowecanhaveagoodold-fashionedfistfight?He’djustlovethat.”
Anthonyrollshiseyes.“Youneedto—”
“Toughenup?Isthatwhatyou’reabouttosaytome?Whatyou’vesaidtomeforaslongasI’vebeenalive?”Joshglancesupatmeinexasperation.“Nowcanwego?”
“Ithinkmaybeyoushouldtalkthisout.”Anotherfiveyearsmightgoby.
“She’soneofthosetouchy-feelytypes,”AnthonysaystoElaine.“Fantastic.”
Josh’seyesnarrowdangerously.“Don’ttalkabouther.”
“Well,shecan’tresistbringingherselfintoit.”
“Bequiet,”ElainesaystoAnthony.She’sfurious.“AllIaskedwasforyoutobecivil.Keepyourmouthshut.”
IlookatAnthonyandhelooksatme.Hiseyesarefullofderisionasherunshiseyesfromthetopofmyhead,down.Thenhesniffsandlooksoutthewindow,obeyinghiswife,mouthpursedshut.
Ohboy.I’mnotputtingupwiththistwiceinmylife,andcertainlynotfromanotherTempleman.Mytempersnaps.
“Yoursonisincrediblytalented.Focused.Ridiculouslyintelligent.Heisinstrumentalinkeepingapublishinghouserunning.”
“What,lickingstamps?Answeringphones?”Welockeyes.
Ibarkalaugh.“Isthatseriouslywhatyouthinkhedoes?”
“I’mnotgoingtosithereandbespokentolikethisbyyou,youngwoman.I’veseenhisemailsignatureblock.AssistantTOtheCEO.Idon’tknowwhoyouthinkyouare.”
He’sattemptingtoreestablishhisauthority.MaybeI’llsitdownandbeagoodlittlegirl.Josh’sinstincttoprotectmeismakinghimriseupoutofhischairbutIwavehimback.
Igotthis.
“I’mthepersonwhoknowsyourownoffspringbetterthanyoudo.He’sthepersonthefinanceandsalesdivisionsreportto.They’rescaredfuckingshitlessofhim.Ioncehadaforty-five-year-oldmanbegmeinthehalloutsidetheboardroomtopassonthedocumentssohewouldn’thavetoattend.I’veseenentireteamsscurryinglikeants,double-checking,triple-checkingtheirfigures.Eventhen,Joshwillalwaysfindthemistake.Thenusuallysomeonetakesastressday.”
Anthonybeginstoblustersomething,butIcuthimoff.I’msoworkedupIcouldstranglehim.Honestly,Icouldwrapmyhandsaroundhisneckandsqueeze.
IamLaraCroft,gunsraised,eyesblazingwithretribution.
“ThereasonBexleyBooksdidn’tcompletelyimplodebeforethemergerisJoshrecommendedthattheirworkforcebereducedbythirty-fivepercent.I’vehatedhimforit.Itwascold-blooded.Andhecanbe,youhavenoidea.Butitmeantanotheronehundredandtwentypeoplekepttheirjobs.Paidtheirmortgages.Sodon’tyoudaretrytomakeoutlikehe’snothing.Oh,andIknowforafactJoshwasintegralinthemergernegotiations.Oneofthecorporatelawyerstoldmeinthekitchenhewas,quote,‘afuckinghardass.’”
Ican’tseemtostop.It’slikeI’mpurgingsomething.
“Hisboss,who’stheco-CEOintitleonly,isafat,sleazytoadsooutofhismindonprescriptionshecanbarelytieashoelace.Joshiswhokeepsitallrunning.Bothofusdo.”
Ilookatthemall.Joshisdigginghisfingersintothewaistbandofmyjeans.
“I’msorryI’mmakingascene.AndIlikeallofyou.Exceptyou.”IcutalookatAnthony.
“Ispendmoretimewithhimthananyone,andIhavetotellyou,youdon’tknowwhatyou’vegot.You’vegotJosh.He’sanawkward,difficultasshole.Ihatehimalmosthalfthetimeandhedrivesmemental,andit’sclearlyhereditary.YougavemetheexactsamelookJoshfirstdidwhenImethim.Toptobottom,outthewindow.Youknoweverythingaboutme?Youknoweverythingabouthim?Idon’tthinkso.”
“Ihavebeentryingtogivehimaboost.Somepeopleneedapush,”Anthonysays.
“Youcan’thaveitbothways.Youcan’tcompletelyneglecthim,yettrashhischoices.”
Anthonyraisesahandtohisbrowandrubsitlikehe’sgettingaheadache.“Myfatherpushedmyyoungerbrother.”
“Andhowdidheenjoythat?”
Hiseyesflicksideways.Nottoomuch,I’mguessing.
“He’snotadoctor.Dealwithit.”
Anthonygogglesatme.
“ButIwantyoutoknowsomething.Hecouldbe,ifhewantedto.Hecouldbeanythinghefuckingwantedto.Nothingisbymistake.Nothingisbecausehe’snotgoodenough.It’shischoice.”
Isitdowninahuff.MindyandPatricklookateachother,mouthsopen.Hell,theentireroomissittingwiththeirmouthsopen.Ihearsomeonestarttoclap,thenhastilystop.
“I’msorry,Elaine.”Itakeahugemouthfuloftea,nearlyspillingitdownmytop.Myhandsareshaking.
“Don’tapologizefordefendinghimlikethat,”shesaysfaintly.Isupposewhatshemeansbylikethatislikearabidlioness.
IfindthecouragetolookatJosh.Helookscompletelyshell-shocked.
“I…”AnthonytrailsoffandIlevelmybeststareonhim.Thesamewithering,emotionlessglareI’vegivenhissonathousandtimesbefore.
“I…er.”Heclearshisthroatandlooksathiscutlery.
“Yes,Dr.Templeman?Caretoshare?”Myaudacityisbreathtaking.
“Idon’tknowmuchaboutyourwork,Josh.”Everyone’sjawdropsevenfurther.Minedoesn’t.Iwillnevergivehimthesatisfaction.Istareintohiseyesandmentallytwistarustyfishknifeintohisgut.Iraiseaneyebrow.
“I’d…beinterestedintalkingtoyoumoreaboutit,Josh.”
Iinterject.“Nowthatyouknowhe’ssuccessful?Nowyouknowthathe’llalmostcertainlybepromotedtochiefoperatingofficerofamajorpublishinghouse?You’vegotsomethingtotellyourbuddiesatgolfnow.”
“Squash,”Patricktellsmeinanaside.“Heplayssquash.”
IhavegivenAnthonythedressing-downofalifetime.Heisunabletospeak.Itiswonderful.
“Youshouldlovehimandbeproudofhimevenifhe’sinthemailroom.Evenifhewereunemployedandcrazyandlivingunderabridge.We’releavingnow.Elaine,itwasapleasure,Ilovedmeetingyou.Mindy,Patrick,congratulationsagainandenjoyyourhoneymoon.SorryImadeascenejustnow.Anthony,it’sbeenreal.”
Istandup.“NowwescreechoutofherelikeThelmaandLouise.”Joshstandsandgoestokisshismother’scheek.Shegraspshelplesslyathiswrist.
“ButwhenwillIseeyou?”ShelooksupatJosh,butshealsolookstome
IcanseeJosh’sjawtightening,andIcanalmostheartheexcusesformingonhistongue.HemightdropofftheradarfortheTemplemanfamilyaltogether.ThenextthingIsaysurprisesevenme.EspeciallygiventhefactI’veessentiallyjustsaidgood-byetothemallforthelasttime.
“Ifyoucancomeuptothecitysoon,wecouldmeetyouforlunch.Wecouldgoseeamovieafter.Anthony,you’reinvitedtoo.”
Hisjaw,whichhasbeenhingingloosely,swaysinthebreeze.
“Butonlyifyou’repreparedtobecivilandstarttogettoknowyoursonagain.Ithinkyouknowthere’sgoingtobenomoreraggingonJosh.Exceptbyme,becausehelovesit.”
“YouandIaregoingtohaveadiscussion.Outside.Now.”ElainegetstoherfeetandpointstoaFrenchdoorleadingtothesidegardens.Anthonylookslikeamanwalkingtothegallows.IknowafellowrabidlionesswhenIseeher.
ItakeJosh’shandandweweavethroughourspellboundaudience.
“Nocharge,”thecashiertellsme.“Lady,thatwasbetterthantheater.”
Iretrieveourbagsfromthereceptionist,thankfullynotthelustfulblondethistime.Iprobablywouldhaveroundhouse-kickedherheadoff.Walkingtogether,matchingourfootfalls,weexitthelobbyliketwotelevisiondistrictattorneysgunningforjustice.
Iaskthevaletforourcar,andturn.
“Okay,letmehaveit.”Ijustmadeanincrediblyembarrassingscene.Icanseepeopletalkingaboutmeastheywaitfortheirtaxis.I’mgoingtostarintwentydifferentretellingsofThatRestaurantIncident.
Joshpicksmeupofftheground.“Thankyou,”hetellsme.“Thankyousomuch.”
Whenwekiss,Ihearsomeapplause.
“You’renotmadIrescuedyou?Boysdon’tneedrescuing.”
“Thisonedid.AndI’llevenletyouchoosewhichyouwannabe.Thelma,orLouise,”hetellsme,settingmeonmyfeetasthecararrives.
“You’rethegood-lookingone,Iguessyou’reThelma.”
Heslidesthedriver’sseatback.WedriveabouthalfablockbeforeJoshburstsoutlaughing.
“Youtoldmydadithad‘beenreal.’”
“LikeIwasabadTVscriptwriterwhothoughtthat’showkidstalk.”
“Exactly.Itwassopriceless.”Hewipesatearawaywithhisthumb.
“Ifeelbadaboutyourmom,though.Shelookedsocompletelystricken.”
“Don’tyouworry,sheisgoingtokicktheshitoutofhimforthat.”
“Ihavenodoubt.It’swhysheandIgetalongsowell.”
Hethinksforafewmomentswhiledriving.“Idon’tknowhowIcanmoveonfromthis,withmydad.”
“Nothing’sinsurmountable.”Itrytobelievemyownwords.
Irolldownthewindowalittlesothebreezeisonmyface.ThesuniswarmingmylegsandJoshissmilingagain.
Idonotevenletmyselfthinkabouthowitisallgoingtoend.
IFTHEDRIVEnormallytakesfivehours,IswearJoshcutsitdowntothree.Butthehoursmeannothingtousaswewindthroughthecountryside,leavingthesea-saltwindbehindus.
Thememoryislitbythesunthroughthetreeswedrivethrough,nothingbutlemonsandcoppertonesscatteringacrossourarms,lightingoureyesupblue;hissapphire,mineturquoise.Iseemyfaceinthecar’ssidemirrorandIbarelyrecognizemyself.
I’vechanged.I’msomeonenewtoday.Todayisamomentousday.
I’llalwaysrememberthedrivehomeasamoviemontage,andIknewIwasinone.Eachdetailwasvividlybright.IknewI’dneedthememoriesoneday.
ThismontageisdirectedbysomeoneFrench.Aconvertiblewouldhavebeentheirpreference,butthewindowsaredown,sothat’ssomething.Theairisunseasonablywarmandscentedlikehoneysuckleandcutgrass.
Themontagestarsthisprettygirl,Flamethrower-redmouthsmilingoveratabeautifulman.He’slookingsoachinglycoolinhissunglassesyouimmediatelybuyapairforyourself.
Heliftsherhandtohismouthandkissesit.Tellshersomethingcharmingandmakesherlaugh.It’sthesortofmomentyouwanttohitpauseonandbuywhateveritisthey’reselling.
Happiness.Abetterlife.Redlipstickandthosesunglasses.
Thesoundtrackshouldbealiltingindieaffair;equalpartshopefulandwithabroken,bittersweetlyrichookthatmakesyourhearthurtforsomeunknownreason.Butinsteadit’sscoredbythe1980shairmetalIfoundinanincriminatingiPodplaylisttitledGym
“YouseriouslygotthoseabswhilelisteningtoPoisonandBonJovi,”Icrow,andhecan’tdenyit.It’sjustus,windowsdown,stereocranked,theroadcurlinginfrontofuslikeatongue.
Wesingalong.ThelyricsforsongsIhaven’theardinyearsfalloutofmymouth.Hisfingersdrumthesteeringwheel.Liferightnowiseasierthanbreathing.
Weneverstopthecar.It’slikeifwestop,evenforarestbreak,realitywillcatchus.We’rebankrobbers.Kidsrunningawayfromboardingschool.Elopingteenagesweethearts.
There’sabottleofwaterinmybag,andJosh’stinofmints.Weshare,andit’sbetterthanabanquet.
Iwilleventuallyconfesstomyselfwhythismontagemeanssomuch.IcouldtrytobelieveitwasbecauseofMondaymorninglooming,andtheoneprizedanglingabovetwoworthyrecipients.MaybeitwasbecauseofhowaliveIfelt.Socompletelyyoungandfilledtoburstingwiththescary,thrillingcertaintymylifewasabouttochangeinabigway
Possiblyitwasthethrillofstickingittothemanandtheheadyrushofstandinguptosomeoneterrifying.Thethrillofrescuingsomeone.Beingthestrongone.Carryingsomeone;coddlingandprotecting,defendinglikealioness
Maybeitwasthesmellofspringintheair;thefieldoffour-leafcloverswepass.Redrosesagainstafence.LeatherseatsandJosh’sskin.
No,itwassomethingelse;thenewknowledgeofsomethingirreversible,permanent.Itcycledthroughmyheadwitheachrevolutionofthecar’swheels,eachpulseofbloodinmyfrailwhisper-thinveins.Atanymomentatinyvalvecouldbuckleunderthepressureofthecholesterolfrommycroissants.AtanymomentIcoulddie.
ButIdon’t.Ifallasleep,mycheekagainstthewarmseat,myfaceturnedtowardhim,likeitalwayshasbeen.Likeitalwayswill.
Iopenmyeyesatinycrack.We’reinaparkinggarage.
“We’rehome,”hesays.
Ithinktheunthinkable.Ishouldhavebeenthinkingitallalong.MyeyesslideclosedandIfeignsleep.
“Youneedtowakeup,”hewhispers.Akissonmycheek.Amiracle.
IloveJoshuaTempleman.Chapter28
Wewalkintohisapartmentandheputsmyovernightbagwithhisinthebedroom,likeIamreturninghome.IusethebathroomandwhenIcomeout,he’smakingmeacupofteawiththeconcentrationofascientist.
Hetakesonelookatmyface.“Oh,no.Don’ttellme.”
MystomachdropsoutofmybodyandIgriptheedgeofthecounter.Heknows.He’samindreader.Myeyesarelove-hearts.
“You’recompletelyfreakingout,”hestatesflatly.Ican’tdoanythingbutmakeawkwardeye-slidesandlip-nibbles.Ilookathisfrontdoor.Ican’tgetpasthim,he’llbetooquick.
“Nochance.Getonthecouch,”hescolds.“Get.Goon.”
Islipmyshoesoffandgoandscrunchmyselfinaballonhiscouch,huggingtheribbon-cushion.
He’sright,Iamcompletelyfreakingout.It’sthemotherofallfreak-outs.I’vecompletelylostmyvoice.
Italktomyselfintheprivacyofmyhead.
Youlovehim.Youlovehim.Youalwayshave.Morethanyou’veeverhatedhim.Everyday,staringatthisman,knowingeverycolorandexpressionandnuance.
Everygameyou’veeverplayedhasbeentoengagewithhim.Talktohim.Feelhiseyesonyou.Totrytomakehimnoticeyou.
“I’msuchanidiot,”Ibreathe.
Iopenmyeyesandnearlyscream.He’sstandingovermewithamugandaplate.
“Isimplycan’tcondonethisleveloffreak-out,”hesays,andgivesmeasandwich.Heputsthemugonthecoffeetable.Hedisappearsforaminutethencomesbackwithmygrayfleecyblanket.
It’slikeheknowsI’vehadsomekindofshock.Hetucksmeinonallsides,bringsmeanextrapillow.Whoknowswhatmyfacelookslike.Iavoidedlookingatmyselfinthebathroom.
MyteethbegintochatterandIreachforwhatisquiteagood-lookingsandwich.Noshoddyworkmanshiphere.It’sevencutinhalfdiagonally;myfavorite.
Ichewlikeachipmunk,usingmytinyprehensilepawstoripoffthecrust.I’vegotbright,shiftybuttoneyesandpuffed-upcheeks.
“YouhavenotsaidawordtomesinceIwokeyouup.Youlookshell-shocked.Yourhandsareshaking.Lowbloodsugar?Baddreams?Carsick?”
Hediscardshisplate,hissandwichuntouched.
“You’restilltired.Youhavestomachpains.”Joshbeginstorubmyfeetthroughtheblanket.Whenhespeaksagain,it’ssolowIcanbarelyhear.
“You’verealizedwhatamistakeyou’vemade,beingwithme.”
“No,”Iblurtthroughmymouthful.Iclosemyeyes.Theworriedlineonhisbrowiskillingme.
“No?”
Ifeelterrible.I’mruiningwhatwasthebeautifulbubbleofenergyfromourdrivehome.
“TodayisSunday,”Irespondafteralotofdeliberation.
“TomorrowisMonday,”hereturns.Webothsipfromourmugs.TheStaringGamehascommenced,andIamwellingupwithquestionsIamdyingtoask,butIhavenoideahowtogoaboutit.
“TruthorDare,”hesays.Healwaysknowstheexactrightthingtosay.
“Dare.”
“Coward.Okay,IdareyoutoeattheentirejarofhotmustardIhaveinmyfridge.”
“Iwashopingforasexydare.”
“I’llgetyouaspoon.”
“Truth.”
“Whyareyoufreakingout?”Hetakesabiteofsandwich.
Isighsodeeplymylungshurt.“Iwasn’treadyforthis,andIamhavingsomescaryfeelingsandthoughts.”
Hestudiesme,lookingforanytraceoflie.Hecan’tfindany.It’sabbreviated,butit’sthetruth.
“TruthorDare?”
“Truth,”hesays,unblinking.ThereissomelowafternoonlightcomingthroughthewindowsandIcanseethecobaltfacetsofhiseyes.Ihavetoclosemineamomentuntilthepainofhisbeautyeases.
“Whatarethemarksinyourplanner?”Itpopsintomyhead.Hedidn’tanswerlasttime;Idoubthewillnow.
Hesmilesandlooksathisplate.“It’sabitjuvenile.”
“I’dexpectnothinglessofyou.”
“Irecordwhetheryou’rewearingadressorskirt.D,orS.Imakeamarkwhenweargue,andImakeamarkwhenIseeyousmileatsomeoneelse.Also,whenIwishIcouldkissyou.Thedotsarejustmylunchbreak.”
“Oh.Why?”Mystomachtrills.
Heconsiders.“Whenyougetsolittleofsomeone,youtakewhatyoucanget.”
“Howlonghaveyoudoneit?”
“SincetheseconddayofBandG.Thefirstdaywasabitofablur.I’vealwaysmeanttocompilesomestats.Sorry.Sayingitaloudsoundsinsane.”
“IwishI’dthoughtofdoingit,ifitmakesyoufeelbetter.I’mequallyinsane.”
“Youcrackedtheshirtcodeprettyquick.”
“Whydoyouevenweartheminsequence?”
“Iwantedtoseeifyounoticed.Andonceyoudidnotice,itpissedyouoff.”
“I’vealwaysnoticed.”
“Yeah,Iknow.”Hesmiles,andIsmiletoo.Ifeelhimtakemyfootinhishandsandhebeginstorub.
“Thosedays-of-the-weekshirtshavebeenoddlycomforting.”Iliebackandlookattheceiling.“Nomatterwhat’sgoingon,IknowI’mgoingtowalkinandseewhite.Off-white.Cream.Paleyellow.Mustard.Babyblue.Bedroomblue.Dove.Navy.Black.”I’mtickingthemoffonmyfingers.
“Youforgot,pooroldmustardhasbeenreplaced.Anyway,youwon’tbeseeingmystupidshirtssoon.Mr.BexleyhastoldtheinterviewpaneltohaveadecisionbyFriday.”
“Butthat’sonlyadayaftertheinterview.”I’dthoughtmaybetherewouldbeaweekortwoofdeliberation.I’mgoingtoeitherbevictoriousorunemployednextFriday?“Ifeelsick.”
“He’stoldthemiftheyhaven’tworkedoutwho’stherightcandidatefiveminutesintotheinterview,they’remorons.”
“Hebetternottrytoswaytheinterviewpanel.Weneedthistobefair.Ugh,Ihadn’tthoughtaboutreportingtoMr.Bexleydirectly,withoutyouasthebuffer.Itellyou,Josh,themanhasx-rayeyes.”
“Iwanttoblindhimwithacid.”
“Youkeepavialofacidinyourdrawer?”
“Youshouldknow.You’vebeensnoopinginmydeskandplanner.”
Thereiscensureinhistonebuthiseyesremainfriendlyasheslideshisthumbintomyarchandmakesmepurr.
“You’dresign,ifIgotthejob?”Hesaysitgently.
“Yes.I’msorry,butI’dhaveto.Atfirstitwasmypridemakingmesayit.Butnowit’sclearlytheonlyoption.Iwantyoutoknow,thatiftheydecideyou’reabetterfitfortherole,I’llresignhappily.I’llbehappyforyou,Josh,Iswear.Iknowmorethananyonehowhardyou’veworkedforit.”
Iarchalittleandsigh.“You’dbemyboss.It’dbehotashell,makingoutwiththeCOOeverychanceIgot,butwe’dgetcaughtforsure.”
“Butifyougetit?”
“Ican’texpectyoutoresign,butIcan’tbeyourboss.I’dgiveyouinappropriatetasksandJeanettewouldhaveastroke.”
“AndifIwereyourboss,I’dworkyousofuckinghard.Sofuckinghard.”
“Mmmm.I’dhavedirtydreamsallnight.”
“YoutoldmyparentsIwasprobablyabouttobechiefoperatingofficer.Didyoumeanit,orwereyoujustaddingtoyourlonglistofbragsaboutme?It’sokayifyoudidn’tmeanit.”
“IfIweretherecruitingpanel,I’dlookatourCVssidebysideandyou’dprobablyedgemeout.You’resogoodatwhatyoudo.I’vealwaysadmiredhowwellyouwork.”
Irubmyhandonmychesttotrytorelievetheache.
“Notnecessarily.It’snotjusttheCVs.There’stheinterviews.You’recharming.There’snotapersonalivewhodoesn’tadoreyouinstantly.”
“Saysyou.I’veseenyouinaction,whenyou’remakinganeffort.You’relikea1950spolitician.Smootherthansmooth.”
Helaughs.“ButyouloveBandG.Andeveryonetherehatesme.That’syouradvantageoverme.Plusyouhaveyourtop-secretweaponDannyisspendinghisweekendson.”
“Yeah.”Idartmyeyesaway.
“It’sgottodowithebooks,I’mnotanidiot,”Joshsays.
“Whycan’tyoubeanidiotforonce?Justonce,Iwanttokeepasecretfromyou.”
“You’rekeepingasecretfrommerightnow.Wehaven’tgottentotherootcauseofyourfreak-out.”
“Andwe’renotgoingto.”Ipulltheblanketovermyheadaltogether.
“Verymature,”hecommentsandswapsmyfeet,squeezingmytoesandcirclinghisthumbs.“Youcan’tkeepsecretsfrommeforlong.Iknowyoutoowell.I’llgetitoutofyou.”
“WellapparentlyI’macompleteopenebook.”Igroaninthedark.“DidMr.Bexleytellyouaboutmydigitalizationproject?Pleasedon’tscrewmeonthis,Josh.Please.Myentirepresentationisbasedonit.”
“DoyouseriouslythinkI’ddothattoyou?”
“No.Well,maybe.”
Iexpectawhip-crackresponse.Hesaysnothing,butcontinuestomassagemyfoot.
Ifliptheblanketoffmyface.“Whydidn’tyousmileatmewhenwefirstmet,andsay,Pleasedtomeetyou?Wecouldhavebeenfriendsallthistime.”Itfeelslikeatragedy.I’velostsomuch,andwehavenotimeleft.
“Wecouldneverhavebeenfriends.”
Itrytopullmyfootbackbutheholdsontoit.
“Sothat’sasorepoint.”Hesqueezesthearch.
“I’vealwayswantedtobefriendswithyou.Butyoudidn’tsmileback.You’vebeenone-upeversince.”
“Icouldn’t.IfI’dletmyselfsmileback,andbefriendswithyou,Iprobablywouldhavefalleninlovewithyou.”
It’sallthepasttenseofthatstatementthatkillstheleapofjoyinside.Becausehedidn’t,andheisn’t.Itrytobrushoverit.
“Yousaidthattomeaftertheelevatorkiss.We’dneverbefriends.”
“Iwasangryatthetime.IwasdeliveringyoutoDanny,andyouwerelookinghotterthanhell.”
“PoorDanny.He’ssonice.You’llhavetoapologizeforhowyouhunguponhim.He’sbeennothingbutnicetomeandallI’vedoneisgivehimtwoshittydatesandmadehimloseaSaturday.”
“Hegottokissyou.”Whenhesaysthat,Joshlookslikehewantstodestroyplanets.“Andhe’snotdoingthefreelanceworkcompletelyoutofthegoodnessofhisheart.”
“Underdifferentcircumstanceshe’dbeagreatboyfriend.”
Joshismakingblackscaryserialkillereyesatme.“Differentcircumstances.”
“Well,I’massumingyou’regoingtochainmeinyourbasementandkeepmeasyoursexslave.”
Thisconversationislikeatightrope.Onemisstepandhe’llknow.He’llknowI’minlove,andthenI’llwobbleandfall.Nosafetynet.
“Idon’thaveabasement.”
“Toobadforme.”
“I’llbuyusahousewithabasement.”
“Okay.CanIcomewithyouwhenyouhousehunt?”
Ismiledespitethedoomedsensationdrippingintomyblood.Ilovetheenergywecreatebetweenuswhenwebanterlikethis.It’sthemostintensesensationofpleasure,knowinghe’llalwayshavetheperfectresponseready.I’veneverknownanyonelikehim;asaddictivetotalktoasheistokiss.
“TruthorDare,”hesaysafterabit.
“It’snotmyturn.”
“Yes,itreallyis.”
“Truth.”Ihavenochoice.He’lldaremetoeatthemustardagain.
“Doyoutrustme?”
“Idon’tknow.Iwantto.TruthorDare?”
Heblinks.“Truth.It’salltruthfromthispointforward.”
“Haveyoueverlivedherewithagirlfriend?”
“No.I’veneverlivedwithanyone.Whydoyouask?”
“Yourbedroomisgirly.”
Joshsmilestohimself.“You’resuchamoronsometimes.”
“Thanks.Hey,shouldIgohome?Idon’thaveanythingtoweartomorrow.”
“Wouldyoubelieve,Iownmyownwasheranddryer.”
“Hownewfangled.”Igointohisbedroomandkneelonthefloortounzipmybag.“IhopeHelenedoesn’tnoticeI’minthesameoutfit.”
“I’dsaytheonlypersonatBandGwhonoticesthatmuchaboutyouwillbethesameonewholaunderedthosewalk-of-shameclothes.”
Isituponmyheelsandlookathisbedroom.He’sputtheSmurfIgavehimbesidehisbed.There’salsowhiteroses,petalsunfurledandloose.Hedidn’thaveavase,soheusedajar.Iclosemyeyes.Ican’tmoveforabit.
Ilovehimsomuchit’slikeathreadpiercingme.Punchingholes.Draggingthrough.Stitchingloveintome.I’llneverbeabletountanglemyselffromthisfeeling.Thecolorofloveissurelythisrobin’s-eggblue.
WhenhisfeetappearinthedoorwayItakemydirtyclothesandhugthemtomychest.“Nolookingatmyunderwear.”
“Thatwouldberude,”heagrees.“Iwillclosemyeyes.”
Isitonhisbed.Ismoothmyhandsoverthecovers,twiddlingthesilkythreadcount.Ipushonefistintohispillow.Hedreams.Helives.Andhewilldoitallwithoutme.Hefindsmesittingtherewithmyheadinmyhands.
“Shortcake,”hesays,andIknowheisgenuinelyregretful.
It’sthestrangestsensation.Ineedtoconfideinhim.He’stheonepersonIshouldnottrust,butI’mnearlyburstingwiththesecretthatIlovehimanditishurtingme.
“Talktome.Iwanttoknowwhyyou’reupset.Letmeworkthisout.”
“I’mscaredofyou.”I’mscaredofhimfindingoutmybiggest,newestsecret.
Hedoesn’tlookoffended.“I’mscaredofyoutoo.”
Whenourmouthstouch,it’slikeit’sforthefirsttime.NowthatIhavethispaleblueloverunningthroughme,theintensityistoomuch.Itrytopullbackbuthesmoothlylaysmeback.
“Bebrave,”hetellsme.“Comeon,Luce.”
Mymouthisfilledwithmyheartandhisbreathwhenwekissagain.Icanfeelmyselftremblingashetastesmyfear.
“Ah,”hesays.“IthinkI’mbeginningtoseewhattheissueis.”
“Noyoudon’t.”Itwistmyfaceaway.Thesunissettingoutsideonthisconfusingday,andthelightfiltersthroughhisfilmydrapes,pearlescentandpretty.Theentiremomentisfrozen,datestampedandslottedintomymemoryvault.
Hekissesmelikeheknowsme.Likeheunderstandsme.Iraisemyhandtopushhimaway,andhelinkshisfingersintomine.Ibitehim,andhesmilesagainstmylips.Islidemykneeuptogetenoughleveragetoslideaway,andhehooksahandundermyleg.
“You’rebeautifulwhenyou’rescared,”hetellsme.
Ican’tspeakashetrailshismouthtomyear.Hesighs.Myworldnarrowsdownalittlemore.Whenhekissesmypulse,Iknowheisthinkingaboutallofmytinyinnermiraclesandthefirsttearwellsupinmyeye.Itslidesdownmycheek,downmyneck.
“We’regettingsomewherenow,”hetellsmeashelicksmytear.
Iraisemyhandsintohishair,andpresshimtomeashepressessoftkisseslikestampsdownmyneck.Eachpushesmedeeperinlove.WhenhesmootheshishanddownmytorsoIwince.
“LetDoctorJoshtakealook,”hesays,pullingoffmysweaterandT-shirtinonemotion.
Hesmoothesasteadyhanddownmythroat,overmybra,betweenmybreasts,tomybelly.Thelightinhereisbrightlydiffused,andhecanseeeveryveinandpastelpaintballbruiseashelooksdownatme,eyelashesfannedsoperfectlyIfeelthenexttearcoming.
IlovehimsomuchIcan’tholditinmuchlonger.I’mvibratingfromit.I’mshoweringsparks.Hemakesitevenhardertoholdonwhenhespeaks,fingersstrokingmymarredskin.
“I’msorryyou’vebeenbruisedsooftenbecauseofme.Ishouldhaveprotectedyoufrommyself.I’vebeensettoadefaultforalongtime.Sortoflike,IattackbeforeIcanbeattacked.You’vebeenonthereceivingend,days,weeks,months,andyou’vehandleditlikenooneelseevercouldhave.”Itrytospeakbutheshakeshisheadandcontinues.
“Everyday,everyminute,I’veonlyeverbeensittingthere,lookingatyou.WhatI’vedonetoyouhasbeentheworstmistakeofmylife.”
“It’sokay,”Imanagetosay.“It’sokay.”
“It’snot.Idon’tknowhowyou’vecopedwithme.AndI’msorry.”Hedropshismouthtothebruiseonmyribs.
“Iforgiveyou.Youforget,I’vebeenacompletebitchtoyou.”
“Butyouneverwouldhavebeen,ifI’djustsmiledback.”
“Iwishyouhad.”Myvoicebreakstraitorously.Imayaswellhavesaid,Iwishyoulovedme.Iholdmybreath.Withhiscrazy-intelligentbrain,Iknowhe’sjoiningthedotssecondsbehindme.Istruggleupthebed,buthecrawlseasilyoverme,andlaysmyheadonhispillow.
“Itmadenodifference.IlovedyouthemomentIsawyou.”
I’mfallingbackward,throughhisbed.Heloopsanarmaroundmywaist.Ijerklikehe’scaughtme.
“Youlove…What?Me?”
“LucindaElizabethHutton.Oneandthesame.”
“Me.”
“Lucy,heiressoftheSkyDiamondStrawberriesdynasty.”
“Me.”
“CouldyoushowsomeIDsoIcanbecertain?”HiseyesarelitandthesmileIlovebestofallisglowingonhisface.
“ButIloveyou.”IcanhearhowincredulousIsound.
Helaughs.“Iknow.”
“Howdoyoualwaysknoweverything?”Ikickmyfeetagainstthemattress.
“Ionlyfigureditoutafewminutesago.Yourhearthasbeenbreaking.”
“Ican’thideanythingfromyou.It’stheworst.”Itrytoputmyfaceintothepillow.
“Youdon’tneedtohideanythingfromme.”Hetakesmychininhisfingersandkissesme.
“You’rescary.You’llhurtme.”
“IguessI’mabitscary.ButIwillneverhurtyouagain.Anyonewhoeverdoeswillfindoutaboutscary.”
“Youhateme.”
“Ineverhave.Notforasecond.Ihavealwayslovedyou.”
“Proveit.There’snowayyoucan.”IamsatisfiedthatI’vethrownouttheunwinnablechallenge.Herollsontohissideandrestshischeekonhisbicep.Myheartispounding.
“What’smyfavoritecolor?”
“Easy.Blue.”
“Whatkindofblue?”
“Bedroomblue!”Ipointatthewall.“Thewalls.Yourshirt.Mydress.PaleTiffanyblue.”
Hetugsmetosit,thengoestotheendofthebed.Heopenshiswardrobedoor,andIseealloftheshirtshangingincolorsequence.
“Josh,youdork.”Istarttolaughandpoint,buthegrabsmyanklesanddragsmetotheendofthebed.There’safull-lengthmirror,andIseemyself,atlonglastsittingonthebedinhisrobin’s-eggbedroom.Hiswallsaretheblueofmyeyes.I’vebeenabitslow.
“Butthat’stheprettiestblueintheworld!”
“Iknow.Goodlord,Lucinda.IthoughtI’dbebustedthemomentyousawthisroom.”
Hesitsonthebedbehindme,onekneeup,andIfallbackintotheperfectcradleofhisbody.
“Howsomebodycan’trecognizetheirowneyes,I’llneverknow.”
“SeemsIdidn’trecognizeafewthings.Hey,Josh.”
“Yes,Shortcake.”
“Youloveme.”Iseehimsmileinourreflectionattheconfusionandwonderinmytone.
“SincethemomentIsawyou.Sincethemomentyousmiledatme,IfeltlikeIwasfallingbackwardoffacliff.Thefeelinghasneverstopped.I’vebeentryingtodragyoudownwithme.Intheworst,mostill-conceivedandsociallyretardedwaypossible.”
“We’vebeensoawfultoeachother.”Ifeelhiscringe,andhishandsbegintostrokeme.“Imean,howcanweevenbegintostartagain?”
“Timeforanewgame.TheStartingOverGame.”
Ismile.Eyesbright,dazzling,fullofhopeandcertaintythismergerwillbethemostexciting,passionate,challengingthingevertohappentome.“Nicetomeetyou.I’mLucyHutton.”
“JoshuaTempleman.Please,callmeJosh.”Iseetheblindingflashofhissmileinreturn,andnowI’mproperlycrying.Tearsrunningdownmyneck.
“Josh.”
“Soundslikeheavencomingoutofyourmouth.”
“Josh,please.We’vebeencolleaguesforoneminute,you’reratherflirtatious.Letmehangmycoat.”
Heunclipsmybra.“Allowme.”
“Thankyou.”WeareplayingtheStaringGameinthemirror,andhiseyesbegintodarken.Hefillshishandswithmywhiteskin.
“Igrewuponastrawberryfarm.It’snamedafterme.”
“Ilovestrawberries.I’msolovesick,Ieatthemconstantly.CanInicknameyouShortcake?It’llbeadeadgiveawaythatIloveyou.”
“Youloveme!We’veonlymetaminuteago.”
“Ido.I’msorry,butIworkfast.Ihopeit’snottooforwardofmetosay,butyoureyesareincredible,Lucy.Idiewhenyoublink.”
“You’resmooth.Whatdoyouknow.Iloveyoutoo.Somuch.Everytimeyourdarkblueeyeshitme,IfeellikeIgetamildelectricshock.”
IreachbehindmetotugoffhisT-shirt.Hehelpsmeoutandpullsitoff.
“I’vebeenwonderingsinceImetyou—granted,onlyminutesago—whatyou’vegotunderthisshirt.Mygoodness,yourbody.ButIwantyouforyourmind,andyourheart.Notthisimpressivedisguise.”
Helooksattheceiling.“IthinkI’llpaintmybedroomthisweekend.I’llprobablyfeelannoyedthewholetimeIdoit.AndI’llhappilyfarewellmycurrentgirlfriend,atallboringblondecalledMindyThailis.She’snotyouanditeatsmeup.ItmakesthefactIsleepaloneanddesperatelycelibateinthisLucy-blueroomevenmoreromanticwhenIeventuallytellyou.”
Heslidesmeinbetweenhissheetsandspoonsbehindme.Mycheekispillowedonhisbicep,andhekissesthesideofmyneck.I’mshivering.
“Soundslikeagoodplan.It’llpayoff.Desperately,huh?So,praytell,whatistheaimoftheStartingOverGame?”
“Thesameasalltheothers.Foryoutoloveme.”
“Minewastomakeyousmile.Howlame.”
“Ilaughedmyassoffeverydayonthedrivehomefromwork,ifitmakesyoufeelanybetter.”
“Iguess.Butyou’vewon.I’mgoingtohavetoknowforeveryou’vewonallthegames.”I’msuremymouthprobablyhasasulkypouttoit.Herollsmeontomystomachandbeginstokissupmyspine.
“Doyoutrustmenowthatyouknoweverything?”
Foramomentweshimmeragainsteachother;myskintremblingforthetouchofhislips.
“Yes.Andifyougetthejob,Iwillbehappyforyou.”
“Ialreadyresigned.MylastdaywasFriday.Jeanettecameinanddidthepaperwork.I’monvacationnow.”
“Whatthefuck?”Iblurtintohisbed.
“Idon’twantanythingthatmeansIcan’thaveyou.There’snothingworthit.”
“ButIdidn’thaveachancetocompeteagainstyou.”Idon’tknowwhethertolaughorscream.
“Youstillhavetodoyourinterviewagainsttheothercandidates.FromwhatI’veheard,oneofthemisarealcontender.Theindependentpanelmightdecideyou’recompletelyincompetent.”
Ielbowhimandhelaughs.
“Butyou’llalwaysknowyoucouldhavegottenit.WhenwefightI’llbeworriedyou’llbringitup.”
“I’veworkedoutasolution.SomethingsoMachiavellianevenyouwilldeemitaperfectsolution.Itretainsallofthecompetitivebullshitwethriveon.”
“I’mscaredtoask.”
“I’mthenewdivisionalfinanceheadofSandersonPrint.BandG’smostbitterrival.”
“Josh.What?No.”
“Iknow!I’manevilmastermind!”HedropsakisstomynapeandIsquirmawayandrollover.
“Howonearthdidyoumanagethat?”Ifeelfaint.
“They’vebeenpesteringmeforagesaboutcomingoverforachat.SoIdid,andItoldthemIwantedtoworkontheircompletelyfucked-upfinancialsituationbeforetheycompletelyfold.Theysaidokay.Noonewasmoresurprisedthanme,butIhiditwell.”
“Isthatwhyyoutookadayoff?”
“Yeah.AndIneededtobuyyouaMatchboxcar.Theytookforevertogivememyformaloffer.That’swhyIneverneededhelptobeatyou.Ididn’twanttobeatyou.”
Ismoothmyhandoverhisshoulder,thegloriouscurveofhisarm.“Sothat’sthat.”
“Ihadtomakeafewconflictofintereststatements.”
“Suchas?”Iwatchhiseyescrinkleinmemory.
“IdisclosedthatI’llbeinlovewiththesoon-to-bechiefoperatingofficerofBandG.”
Icanjustimaginehimtellingthem,coolandcalm.
“Youdidn’t.Weretheyokaywiththat?”
“Mynewbossseemedtothinkitwaskindofsweet.Everyone’saromantic.Ihadtosignsomenondisclosurestuff.IfItellyouanything,Iwillbesued.Luckily,Ihaveagoodpokerfacewhenitcomestoyou.”
“Ohman,howangrywasMr.Bexley?He’snotaromantic.”
“Furious.Hewasonthevergeofcallingsecurity.ThankfullyHelenecameinanddefusedthings.OnceItoldthemmyreasonsforleaving,theywereprettyunderstanding.Helenesaidshe’salwaysknownit.”
“Reasons.”
“Ihadoneweekendlefttomakeyouloveme.”
Igapeinhorror.“Youdidn’ttellthemthat.”
“Yes.YoushouldhaveseenJeanette’sface.”
“Prettybiggamble,Josh.Hellinahandbasket.”
“Itpaidoff,thankfully.”
He’spressinghismouthtomyskinandsighing,breathing,likeI’madreamheneverwantstowakefrom.He’sbreathingmeinlikehe’safilthyaddict.
“Canyoubesurethatyouwon’tresentmeoneday?You’vegivenupabigchance,Josh.”
“I’llbeburiedinnumbersalldaylong.Icancontinuemycrusadetosaveonepublishinghousefromfinancialruinatatime.”
“Pleasetrynottomakepeoplecryanymore.It’stimeforyoutobeyourtrueself.You’reaMr.NiceGuy.”
“Imakenoguarantees.Butforme,thisroleatSandersonishonestlyabetterfit.Thebestpartis,itmeansI’llbecominghometoyouonmycoucheverynight.Icouldn’thavegottenthisdecisionmorerightifItried.”
“Everynight?Well,Ican’tonthelongweekend.I’mgoingtoSkyDiamondsfortheweek.Idon’tsupposeyou’rebusythen.”
“Takemewithyou,”hesaysinbetweenkissesonmyshoulders.“Iknowtheway.I’vemappedthejourney.Flightsandhirecars.I’llgroveltoyourdad.IknowexactlywhatI’llsay.”
“Idon’tgetitwithyouandthatplace.”
“IneedtogotheresoIcanstartatthebeginning.SothatIcanknoweverythingaboutyou.”
“Yousuredolovestrawberries.”
“Iloveyou,LucyHutton.Somuch,youhavenoidea.Pleasebemybestfriend.”
I’msoridiculouslyinlove.Idecidetotryitoutloud.“I’minlovewithJoshuaTempleman.”
Hisreplyisawhisperinmyear.“Finally.”
Ipullback.“I’mgoingtohavetochangemycomputerpassword.”
“Ohyeah?Towhat?”
“I-love-Josh.”
“4eva,”hereplies.
“Youcrackedmypassword?”
Herollsmeontomybackandsmilesdownatmewitheyesbrightwithmischief.
There’snothingelseIcando.Whenthewhiteflagofhissheetssettlesonmyskin,theHatingGameisover.It’sprimal.It’samiracle.Andit’sforever.
“Yeah,allright.Forever.Whatgameshouldweplaynow?”IlookupathimandweplaytheStaringGameuntilhiseyessparkinmemory.
“TheOrSomethingGamereallyintriguedme.Canyoushowmehowitworks?”
Hetossestheblanketsoverus,blockingouttheentireworld.He’slaughing,myfavoritesoundintheworld.
Thenthere’snothingbutsilence.Hismouthtouchesmyskin.
Lettherealgamesbegin.
AnExcerptfromTheComfortZone
LovedtheTHEHATINGGAME?
Don’tmissSallyThorne’s
THECOMFORTZONE
ComingSummer2017
IgotasfarastheinternationalbaggagecarouselbeforeIbegansinkingbackintotheCarson-family-dramaquicksand.Myfirstmistakewasturningoffmyphonefromairplanemode.Actually,no,that’snotright.MyfirstmistakewasboardinginHeathrow.
Ithoughtitwouldhavetakensomeseriousarm-twistingtogetmeontoaplanebackhome,butintheendallittookwasmybossMargo’swords.Emma,theNewYorkofficeisdesperate.You’restillonlyonatemporarytransfertousinLondon,soIreallydohavetosayyestothem.It’sonlyforamonth.EvershamGoldsteinreallyneedsyou.
Iwasneeded?AwarmflutteringfilledmyribcageandIsaidyes.I’maliteraryagent,sowordsaremylife—andkind,appreciativewordsareapparentlymyAchilles’heel.IwishI’daskedforadaytothinkitover.IfIhad,maybeIwouldn’tbewaitinghereformybatteredsuitcase.It’snotthatIhatethiscity.Ijustdon’tfeelreadytoseesomeofitsoccupants.
Myemailinboxdoesn’thaveanybigemergencieswithmyauthorsortheireditors.IdohaveanemailfromLouise,myfather’sassistant.Thesubjectlinereads:Urgent—ReadImmediately.IhaveabadfeelingthatthismightmesswithmyOne-MonthSurvivalPlan:Arrive,work,participateintherequiredfamilyinteractionsnomatterhowawkward,leave.Possiblyforgoodthistime.
IlookupatadeparturescreennearbyandautomaticallyscanforthewordLondon.It’sarguablyanunhelpfulwaytodealwiththis,soImakemyselfreadwhateverbombLouiseisabouttodroponme.Thefirstparagraphofheremailisaheavytapestryofcaveats,precautions,andinstructionstonotpanic.AllthestuffthatguaranteesthatIwillpanic.There’sahonkandthebaggagecarouselbeginstomove,butIcan’tlookupfrommyphone.NotuntilIknowwhat’shappened.AccordingtoLouise,Dad’sreceivedanotherextortionattempt.Andjustlikethat,I’mbackinCrazyTown.Breathethatcrazyairniceanddeep.
Someonehitsmyanklewithaluggagecart.It’swhite-hotagonyandIyiplikeapup.Whoeverdiditdoesn’tfollowitupwithathousandBritishapologies,orevenasingleAmericanone.Iglowerpassive-aggressivelyatthefloor,achievingnothing.It’sapainfulmessagefromNewYorkitself:Yo,Emma!Welcomeback!Wantareminderofwhyyouleft?
IhaveasecondemailfromLouise,acoupleofhoursafterthefirst.It’smarked“highpriority”andthesubjectlineisfilledentirelywithexclamationpoints.Mystomachdropsawayintotheabyss.IsDadboundandgaggedinabasementsomewhere?WillIbedrawnintoagameofcatandmousewithhiskidnapperinatrailleadingacrossthecity,thestakesgettingprogressivelyhigher?WillmyeyesglintintentlybehindmyglassesasIdeliberatebetweengreenandredwires?WillIsavetheday,andwinmyfather’slove?
Probablynot.Arecentbook-to-moviedealIbrokeredforoneofmyauthorshasmadeeverythingfeellikeapossiblecinematicplot.Thesecondscary-lookingemailfromLouiseisaboutameetingandI’mweirdlycrestfallen.IwillnevergettoseeTheRockcastasme.MypresenceisrequiredatacompulsorysecuritybriefingregardingtheextortionattemptatthreeP.M.Today.Noifsorbuts.Recentinternationaltravelisnotanexcuse.
MywatchisstillonLondontimeandithurtsmyhearttoadjustit,butwhenIdo,Ihaveanewproblem.Iamgoingtobelate.Ifindmybag,weavethroughthescoresoftravelersbeingpickedupbyexcitedlovedones,andheadforthetrain.
Ifyou’reimaginingmyfatherisasenatororcelebrity,you’rewayoff.He’snotasportslegendoroldmoney.He’stheCEOofapropertydevelopmentfirmand,finally,atthispointinhiscareer,he’swealthyenoughtoextortfrom.It’simpossibletorazeoldbuildings,buildnewones,andhaveoodlesofsubcontractorsonthepayrollwithoutmakingatleastonemortalenemyaday.IfIwerehim,I’dlookatitasamajorrich-guymilestone.Thefirsttimesomeonetriedtosqueezemoneyoutofhim,Ibethisbuddiesatthecountryclubbroughtoutadollar-sign-shapedcakeforDad.Thesedays,it’shardlyworthmentioning.
Beforethemoney,amillionyearsago,itwasjustDadandme.Welivedinalittlewhitehouseacrosstheriver,nursingbrokenheartsoverMomandgettingalongasbestwecould.OurideaofextravagancewasfrozenpizzasonFridaynight.Irodemybikearoundtheblockatdusk,alwaysringingmybikebellwhenIpassedourgreenfrontdoorasmywayofsayinghellotoMomasshewatchedmefromhercomfycloudabove.IwonderifDadcanevenrememberthathouse.It’salongwayfromwherehelivestoday.
Ihaven’tseenmydadinsolong,Iwonderifheremembersme
WHENIBUMPopentheheavydoortoCenturionSecuritywithmybuttanddragmysuitcasein,I’msweatingandtired.WhenIturnaround,Irealizesomethingprettytypical.I’vejustflowneighthoursacrosstheocean,changedtimezones,andtakenatrainandtaxi.AndI’mstillearly.
There’snooneelsehereexceptforthereceptionist,whoistouch-typingfuriouslyandchoosestoignoreme.Sheisname-taggedShereeShelookslikeaSheree.Icanseemyownreflectioninhereyeballbutshewon’tlookupbecauseshe’sbusyandimportant.I’mnowaccustomedtobeingpatientandpoliteandbottlingupmyresentmentsbehindacheeriosmile,soIwaituntilshefinallylooksupatme.
“Allright?”TheutterlyBritishgreetingpopsoutofmymouthandIhearhowridiculousitsoundsinmyaccent.“Um,hi.I’mEmmaCarson.Ihaveameetinghere.”
“Takeaseat,I’llletGregknowyou’rehere.”Inhermind,Shereeadds,whenI’mgoodandready.Hertypingresumes.
There’saone-in-a-millionchancethatClaudiahasarrivedearlyandisinoneofthoseclosedmeetingrooms.
“Hasmysisterarrivedyet?ClaudiaCarson?”
Claudia’snameringsabellwiththiswoman.Hereyessparkandhermouthbecomesasmile.Shestopstypingandrestsherelbowsonherdesk.“No,she’snothere.She’syoursister?Howlucky.”
“Oh,doyouknowher?”
“IfeellikeIdo.ModelBehaviorwassoaddictive.Myfriendscameovereveryweektowatchitandwedrankwineandgaveourselvesmanicures.WewereTeamClaudia,rightfromthestart.WeevenhadthepinkT-shirts.”
Idon’thavetoworkhardtoimagineShereeandhersquad.ModelBehaviorwasarealityTVshow.Beautifulboysandgirlslockedinacompoundfilledwithcameras,fruitplatters,andsunloungers.GirlsinbikinisfoughtendlesslyoveronesmugpratnamedJordan.It.Was.Dreck.HaveIbeenruinedbyBBCperioddramas,Shakespeare,andWestEndshows?Yes.
“Yes,itwasreallygood.”IhavenoconvictioninmyvoiceandIdefinitelydon’tfoolSheree.Shelooksatmewithnarrowedeyes.Shesmellssnob.
“Claudiawontheentirecompetition.She’sincredible.IfIwereyou,I’dbesoproud.”Withasniff,shebeginstypingagain,andIcanseethatherhandsareshakingalittlewithnewnerves.Hereyesbeginflickingtowardthedoor,overandover.Shefinallygivesuponworkandbeginstocheckherappearance.
Idragmybagtoachairthatishalf-obscuredbyahugepottedplantandsetupcamp.Myneckpillowishangingfromthestrapofmybag,myclothesarecreased,andmyhairisunraveling.I’mdeadtoShereenow,soshewon’tcareifIunbraidmyhairandbrushit.It’sahuge,thick,wavynightmare.Thereareprobablyhikerslostinthere.ButIcan’tcutitshort,becausewithouttheweightitgrowsoutwardintoaballformation.I’veseenpicturesofmymom.Shegiftedmewiththisparticulargeneticburden:hugehair.
Icreatethreeropesandbeginrebraiding.PipwasoneofmyLondonflatmatesandsheoncetoldmemyhairlookedlikeabraidedpeachstrudel.Shewasverydrunkatthetimeandmeantitasacompliment.Shepickeditupinbothhands,pretendingtobiteintoit.“Delishusss,”shesaidoverandoveruntilweflaggeddownanadorableblackcabhome
Istudyitcriticallynowasitlaysverticallydownmychestanddohavetoadmitthatitjustneedssomesugargranulesandsomeglimpsesofhotfruit.Mystomachgrowlsloudly.ShereecoughsandIjerkinmyseat.She’snotlookingatme.Shehasnoideathere’ssomeoneinthisroomthinkingabouttakingoutaknifeandcuttingoffasnackportionofherownbraid.That’sthegreatthingaboutbrains.It’sallasecret.
IrecheckthatClaudia’spresenthasn’tgottensquashed,eventhoughIknowitwasfinethelasttimeIlooked.Ishouldhavegonewithhot-pinkgiftwrap.That’shersignaturecolor,likeBarbie.Glitterygoldwrap;whatwasIthinking?AwhirringsensationbeginsinthepitofmystomachandIhavetotellmyselfforcefully,don’tbenervous.She’snotakidanymore.Youcan’truineverythingwiththewronggift-wrapchoice.Probablynot.
Pleasedon’tbenervous.Pleasedon’tbenervous.Isayittomyselfuntilmybodybeginstoobey.
FormetodescribeClaudia,IfirsthavetoadmitthatIoncemadeawish—anditcametrue.Crazy,right?Iknowonanintellectuallevelthatitwasn’tmewhocreatedthisoutcome.Idon’thavespecialpowers.Iwasn’tanomniscientnarrator,intoningwhatwassoontocomewhilemywidowerfathersatinthedarkplayinghisdeadwife’sfavoriterecords.IwasjustakidandIdidn’tknowwhatIwasaskingfor.
ButIwishedsohard.That’swhatalwaysgetsme.IwasstandingonakitchenchairwhenIaskedmymomforsomethingspecial.Myrequeststreamedoutofmychestlikeasunbeam,frommetoher,lightingupheaven,andthatnightIrodemybikeunderasunsetthatwaseveryshadeofpink.OnenodfromMomandtheplanwasinmotion.That’swhymyheartstillbelieves
Andlikeallbigwishes,Ipaidaprice.
Toavoidfollowingthatparticulartrainofthought,Istarttothinkaboutmygoldensteamingbraidagain,justastheglassdoortoCenturionSecuritypushesopenandayoungwomanstepsin.Unlikemyinelegantbackward-pachydermentrance,shelookslikeshe’sslippingthroughred-velvetcurtainsontoastage.Aspotlightwobblesandthenencirclesherinfullfocus.Shecarriesglossycardboardshoppingbags,strungaroundeachwristlikebunchesofrectangleheliumballoonsthatstrainheavilybelowherwaist.
Thebagshaveexpensivelogos:Chanel,Prada,Fendi,Tiffany&Co.Theaudienceknowsthisisagirlofgenerousmeans.She’swearingadressthatsparkles.HerhairislongandOld-Hollywoodwhite-blonde.Sheliftsherfacetothelightandheraudiencethinks,holyshit.Ineloquent,butwe’reallinthesameboatthere.
Heresheis,ClaudiaCarson,myownpersonalwishcometrue,andthisishowsheenterseverysingleroom.AbouttheAuthor
SALLYTHORNElivesinCanberra,Australia,andspendsherdayswritingfundingsubmissionsanddraftingcontracts(yawn!),soit’snotsurprisingthatafterhourssheclimbsintocolorfulfictionalworldsofherowncreation.Sheliveswithherhusbandinahousefilledwithvintagetoys,toomanycushions,ahaunteddollhouse,andtheworld’ssweetestpug.TheHatingGameisherfirstnovel.
Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comPraiseforTheHatingGame
“Deliciouslyfunandsupersexy,SallyThorne’sTheHatingGamestolemylifefortwodays.Icouldn’tputitdownuntilLucyandJosh’sall-consuminghateshipchangedintoatentativefriendshipandthenajuicy,tender,adorablelove.”
—ValerieFrankel,bestsellingauthorofFourofaKind
“Abrilliant,biting,hilariousnewvoice.TheHatingGamewilltaketherom-comworldbystorm.OneofthebestI’veread,ever.”
—KristanHiggins,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthor
“Anaddictive,dazzlingdebut.TheHatingGameisburstingattheseamswithlove(andhate)andheart.”
—ChristinaLauren,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthor
“BepreparedtoplaytheCharmingGamewithSallyThorne.TheirrepressibleLucyandherstarchy,growlycounterpartJoshuawillwinyouoverfromtheopeningpage.”
—JaneLitte,DearAuthor
“Thorneisastrongwriterandonetowatch.HerdebutwillhavereadersrootingforbothLucyandJoshuainwhatevergamestheyplay.”
—LibraryJournal
“Funny,smart,fresh,andthoroughlyenjoyablefromthefirstdeliciouspagetothelast.Ihighlyrecommend.”
—SusanElizabethPhillips,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorCredits
CoverdesignbyConnieGabbertCopyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
THEHATINGGAME.Copyright?2016bySallyThorne.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionof