It’s been a long time since I’ve even tried to make a friend, let alone try to engage in … more, like flirting with a man this gorgeous. But who wouldn’t want to discover how Mr. Too-Hot-For-This-World kisses?
“I do,” he says, checking his watch. “I have to go, but can we get coffee another time?”
“Coffee?” I swallow hard, surprised by the invitation.
Swipe left, swipe left. This is not a drill. Also, this is no Tinder, Em.
Fuck, I forgot that in real life there’s no swiping. You say yes or no—in person. Looking at the hot specimen closely, I conclude that I want to say yes. When was the last time I got laid?
“Jack,” he says, extending his hand.
I meet his hand.
Suddenly, I feel dizzy, and I clearly hear the cracking sound of electricity surrounding us. The pit of my stomach tightens. Yep, he’s tall, dark, and dangerous to my health. I don’t handle attraction very well. Or at all. I tend to run away when I come face to face with what could become a real relationship.
Em, find your courage.
“What should I call you? Emmeline?”
“Em,” I offer.
He pulls out his phone, taps it, and hands it to me. “Em, could I have your phone number?”
No, I’m not ready for a date. When will I be ready for that? Try never.
“Of course,” I say, and I type my personal number into his phone.
“It’s nice meeting you, Em.”
You haven’t dated in years. What are you gonna do? I have two options, call my carrier and change my number or go out on … is this even a date?
“Jack, is this a date?”
He looks at me and chuckles.
“See you next weekend, Em.” He winks at me and leans down to whisper in my ear. “Yes, officially our first date.”
Em: I met someone.
Laura: Alastair says he’s happy for you, but we’re on a date.
Laura: That was him, not me. Call me.
Em: I won’t call you. Just know I might go on a date next week—with a real man. Love you guys.
Chapter Ten
Jack
Wednesday, April 20th, 6:43 p.m.
I can’t help but laugh as I read the note that Amy included with my pizza:
Are you sure you want to eat this instead of going home?
A
P. S. I added extra cheese, you might want to wake up early tomorrow to run a few extra miles.
I still don’t understand why she changed my Reuben sandwich, but hasn’t messed with my pizza. Meat Lovers with Asiago cheese. It’s like she knows my limits. Not even Carla knew me this well. I have to give it to evil-assistant, she is good. Better than any other person who has worked for me.
Settling back into my seat, I take another bite of pizza, glancing at my computer. Is it crazy that I don’t want to delegate this project? While my brother was in the hospital, I learned about a kid who only spoke to A.I.s, and it reminded me of Amy who thinks I’m working on perfecting them. I wouldn’t dare to focus on these kinds of projects, but creating something that can help children with Autism socialize, seems like a good use of my time. It’s become my project. Something I can’t do during working hours since I have so much on my plate.
Jason is right, I need a break, I need to find people I can trust. Amy had it right from the beginning, I don’t trust many—not even my employees. I should try harder to change, even get out there, like I did last week. I smile as I think of the woman, Emmeline, who I met last week, her beautiful dark hair braided on the side and those big brown eyes hiding behind the quirky purple glasses.
Staring into those bright eyes was like sinking into a dark night illuminated by bright stars. She seemed so happy and full of life. Even if she was reserved. I’m still not sure what to make of her. She wore an old BU sweatshirt, a beanie hat, a pair of tight jeans hugging her tight, round ass let me see her toned legs. She was breathtaking.
The way she spoke about Fitzgerald’s work, it was as passionate as she described the author. Yesterday, I googled the book and downloaded it. It’s so twisted. I honestly can’t comprehend why people would want to read something that would make them emotional. I prefer to focus on a good sci-fi, or learn about technology that, if I put my mind to it, I might be able to apply to my own company.
The idea for tablets came out of Star Trek. Anything is possible.
* * *
Thursday, April 21st, 1:07 a.m.
AWalk90: You’re still working.
I stare at the screen for a few seconds and check the time before I respond.
JSpear84: What are you doing up so late?
AWalk90: There was an emergency with a client. There’s always something that needs immediate attention.
JSpear84: You should hire someone to help you.
AWalk90: Like an assistant for the assistant? LOL
JSpear84: It’s just an idea.
AWalk90: The accounts I handle are sensitive, I only delegate if I have an emergency.
JSpear84: Are you calling me sensitive?
AWalk90: No, you’re my problem child. One of those bosses who doesn’t trust just anyone and needs a lot of support but doesn’t like to give up any power.
JSpear84: Did you study psychology?
AWalk90: I have a minor in everythingology.
JSpear84: Out of curiosity, what did you study?
AWalk90: Amy Walker studied two years of psychology, with a minor in women’s studies. The ultimate goal was to become a teacher.
JSpear84: You didn’t finish?
AWalk90: What did you study? Computer Science?
JSpear84: Computer Science and then robotics, plus an MBA.
AWalk90: No surprise there. I hear they give those MBAs to just about anyone these days.
JSpear84: What were you planning on studying when you started college?
AWalk90: I wanted to do what my parents thought was ideal for me. Until I realized it wasn’t going to make them happy, so I did my own thing.
JSpear84: By becoming a virtual assistant?
AWalk90: Since I refused to make my parents happy, they stopped paying tuition. It was either strip or become an executive assistant. I opted for the latter and it paid off.
JSpear84: You’ve been working there for four years, is that correct?
AWalk90: As an assistant I’ve worked for eight, and at VAES for four.
JSpear84: Is it a good company or would you consider exclusivity at some point?
AWalk90: Get in line, there’re a lot of people who want to hire me exclusively.
JSpear84: You can’t blame me for trying. There’s no competitive clause in your contract. I assume anyone can offer you a job without getting in trouble.
AWalk90: I’m the only assistant without a competitive clause in this company because I’d never leave.
JSpear84: The others have one?
AWalk90: Yep, I’m not 100% sure what the penalty is, but it’s a stiff penalty for both parties.
JSpear84: Can you suggest any music to listen to while I’m finishing writing this code.
* * *
Thursday, April 21st, 1:29 a.m.
AWalk90: I’m actually watching a movie. Would you like me to stream it to you?
JSpear84: I thought you said you were working.
AWalk90: It’s called multitasking, Spearman.
* * *
AWalk90 invited you to share a screen
JSpear84 accepted your invitation
* * *
JSpear84: Clueless?
AWalk90: It’s a classic.
JSpear84: Another version of Emma.
AWalk90: Did you read Emma?
JSpear84: Pride and Prejudice is all the Austen I’ve read.
AWalk90: Persuasion is a must. I would love to own the entire collection. We have to catch you up on the classics, Mr. Spearman.
JSpear84: That’s what I’ve been told.
AWalk90: Who told you that?
&nb
sp; I stare for a second at the screen, debating on whether to tell her about Emmeline or not, but talk myself out of it.
JSpear84: It’s not important, what really freaks me out is seeing Antman in a romcom.
AWalk90: He was also in Anchorman, but Paul Rudd as Mike is my favorite.
JSpear84: Mike?
AWalk90: Please tell me you’ve watched Friends, it’s a 90s classic.
JSpear84: I was only ten or eleven when that show began to air. Of course I didn’t watch it.
AWalk90: We have to stream it.
JSpear84: Why?
AWalk90: I can’t let you live in a world where Friends doesn’t exist.
JSpear84: Leave me drowning in the ocean of ignorance. I’m indulging you with Clueless.
AWalk90: What did you do last weekend?
JSpear84: Not much, talked to my brother. He’s doing better, and I socialized.
AWalk90: Socialized?
JSpear84: Met a girl.
AWalk90: Girl or woman? Because there’s a huge difference between those. I could congratulate you or call the police. Speak correctly, Spearman.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, leave it to Amy Walker to make me sound like a sexual predator.
JSpear84: She is a woman. She is pretty in an understated way.
AWalk90: That’s code for ugly face but great body?
JSpear84: There’s no code. She was pretty and interesting. One of those women who doesn’t spend much time in front of the mirror to look beautiful. She’s brilliant. I could spend hours talking about everything, and I bet I’d want to see her again.
AWalk90: Would you like me to make some reservations for you or send her flowers?
JSpear84: No, I wouldn’t want to come on too strong. I’m still not sure if I want to talk to her.
AWalk90: Of course you want to talk to her. Call her, go on a date. When was the last time you went out with someone?
JSpear84: It’s been a long time. I can’t even remember how to do it. Any suggestions?
AWalk90: My last date was sophomore year of college. I’m the last person you should be asking for help.
JSpear84: That long ago, huh? Are you married to that boyfriend?
AWalk90: Wouldn’t you like to know?
JSpear84: I’m curious.
AWalk90: Ask her to go out with you, you might have a good time. Stop the loneliness, it’s eating your soul.
I stare at the screen, reading her words and even though she’s been driving me crazy from the beginning, having her around feels good. She might be right. It’s time to open up.
JSpear84: If the date sucks?
AWalk90: We can watch another movie. A.I. with Will Smith?
JSpear84: That’s iRobot. A.I was even worse. Actually, both are terrible.
AWalk90: Did you read iRobot?
JSpear84: Of course, I’ve read all Asimov’s books.
AWalk90: Why’d I even ask? My best friend made me read them in high school. He read a few classics in exchange.
JSpear84: Friend or boyfriend?
AWalk90: Best friend since elementary school. He’s married to my college roommate.
JSpear84: Who did you marry?
AWalk90: LOL
JSpear84: I’m intrigued.
AWalk90: I’m tired, and I have a lot to do tomorrow. Goodnight, Mr. Spearman.
JSpear84: Sweet dreams, Miss Walker.
Chapter Eleven
Jack
Thursday, April 21st, 5:09 p.m.
I grunt as I look at my ringing phone. It’s Alex. Shit, I promised to call him after lunch, and it’s already five o’clock. What happened to this fucking day? It feels like only a few hours ago I was watching Clueless with Amy while finishing my project.
“Alex,” I answer the phone, keeping my attention on the screen, a few more lines and I’ll finish the code. “How are you doing?”
“You don’t want to know,” he says with a low voice. “Do you think you can send me the scooter Jason used when he broke his foot? Mom needs you to send her back the silverware she left last Christmas—something about donating it to charity.”
“Can it wait until next week?”
“I haven’t even finished yet,” he says so low I can barely hear him. “What I really need is the partnership contract I left in your house. Sam’s leaving me and is asking for a fortune.”
Of course, she’s leaving, his career might be over. The carefully planned competitive extreme sports life he had, where he got paid by sponsors finished when the doctor said, ‘You won’t be able to climb, run or perform the same that you used to.’ Her reaction doesn’t surprise me, he should’ve never gotten entangled with a woman like Sam. Didn’t he learn from my mistakes?
“What contract?”
“The manila envelope I gave you a couple of years ago,” he says exasperatedly.
“Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid when you two decided to sign a partnership contract.”
“If I did everything right, it should save me. I need it and a good lawyer.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Mom is here, and she would love to speak to you,” he says with a normal voice.
Oh, fuck me now!
“Hey Mom,” I greet her.
“Sweetheart, did I leave the silverware at your place?”
“I’m not sure, I’ll check and get back to you, but I’ll make sure to send the scooter.”
“We can buy him a new one,” she insists. “We’ll pick up the silverware later.”
No, please don’t come to visit me. I don’t have time for you to redecorate my house or find me a date.
“Mom, I’m about to enter a meeting, let me call you later,” I say and hang up without waiting for her to protest.
* * *
Thursday, April 21st, 5:46 p.m.
JSpear84: I need to overnight a package to my brother.
AWalk90: It’s almost 6 p.m.
JSpear84: Pretty sure I asked for shipping, not the time—and it’s 5:47 p.m.
AWalk90: I’ll be happy to overnight it tomorrow. There’s no way we can make it for tomorrow unless I send my delivery guy to California.
JSpear84: I knew you’d have an answer.
AWalk90: You’re joking, right?
JSpear84: Nope, I just went home to pick up what he needed. I’ll have it ready to go.
AWalk90: You’ll pay for the cost of shipping it, even if it’s more than a thousand dollars.
JSpear84: Why so much?
AWalk90: The Plane ticket is about $600+, hotel accommodations average $200, his hourly rate from the time he picks up the package until he’s back to the office, and food.
* * *
Thursday, April 21st, 5:51 p.m.
Jack: It’s too late to ship that today, will it be okay if I overnight it tomorrow?
Alex: Saturday works, make sure it gets here before ten in the morning. Scan it and send it to your lawyer, he should be able to work with that for now.
Jack: My lawyer is your lawyer?
Alex: Yes, your assistant gave me the number when I emailed her. I had no idea Carla was on maternity leave.
Of course my assistant gave him that number.
Alex: Mom’s asking if you called that girl.
Jack: What girl?
Alex: I might’ve told her that you met a woman last weekend.
Jack: Thank you, I’ll make sure to pay you back once you’re up and about.
Alex: I take it you haven’t called her yet.
Jack: I’m not sure if I want to start dating.
Alex: Call her, you have nothing to lose. It’s time to get over your shit and date.
Jack: After the fucking fiasco you’re going through, you want me to date?
Alex: I’m saying date, not marry again. Marriage is an outdated institution, that’s why I signed a partnership contract. It can get dissolved without mind fucking anyone like the bitch did with you.
* * *
Thursday, April 21st, 5:55
p.m.
JSpear84: Overnight it tomorrow. Why did you give my brother the number for a corporate lawyer?
AWalk90: Have the parcel ready in the reception. I’m sending my messenger.
JSpear84: You didn’t answer my question.
AWalk90: His offices do more than corporate law, and he handles a few civil cases.
JSpear84: I owe you one.
AWalk90: You owe me two. Go get some dinner and stop working overtime.
JSpear84: Yes, boss.
* * *
There’s no one in the office, everything is quiet, and my mind continues to wander toward what Alex told me, go back to dating. It’s funny, when I think of Emmeline, I’m not apprehensive about going out with her.
“Sorry, I can’t answer the phone right now, but leave a message, and I’ll call you back.”
“Hey, this is Jack from the bookstore,” I say, wondering if she’s screening my call. “We talked about Fitzgerald and the pretty messed up book you said it was your favorite. I’m reading it, and I’m not sure I agree with you. He’s fucking an eighteen-year-old, while his wife is sick. He’s a—”
“Beep!”
I growl and redial her number.
“I didn’t mean to rant about the book. Would you like to get a coffee this weekend? Maybe at the French bakery on Second and Fillmore? Call me.”
Only takes a few seconds for the phone to ring. Her name and number flash right on my screen.
“Emmeline?”
“Just because I like the book, that doesn’t mean I approve of Dick’s behavior. He’s an asshole. He’s unfaithful to Nicole and also plays with Rosemary. The end is fitting, but I don’t think you’ve realized the enormity of what happened while you read it. Fitzgerald dragged you into his world and made you a part of it. His emotions are now yours.”
I smile because she’s right, even though I think it’s fucked up, I was absorbed by the words and the plot. “That’s why you like it best.”
“Exactly, his passion for those characters is palpable with each word. The prose is so powerful.”
“Are you an English teacher?”
“Nope, I had a few AP credits from high school and took an English literature class in college. If I had tried, maybe I could’ve gotten an English minor.”
Maybe Later Page 7