by Becky Monson
Of course, if we’re going to go there, then why isn’t he openly protesting about being here? He doesn’t come off as the recluse type to me, quite the contrary, actually. He seems like the type of guy who would always have plans. You know, the typical stuff like watching sports with his guy friends, and going to bars to meet women, although we already know he doesn’t drink and might be a recovering alcoholic, so the bar option is probably out.
My stomach makes a rather large, growling noise, and I keep typing, hoping he didn’t hear.
Immediately though, the typing noises coming from his laptop stop and I can feel his eyes on me. Dang it, dang it, dang it.
“You hungry?” he asks, that little smirk back on his face. It’s funny how, just a short time ago, I wanted to slap that smirk off him. Now, I just want to grab it and make out with it.
“Um, yeah, I guess I am,” I say, looking down toward my stomach, indicating I know he heard the rumblings. Honestly though, I’m not feeling that hungry. The grumbling was the nervousness and the butterflies. I wonder if I’ll ever overcome that.
“I’m starving,” he says, patting his stomach. “How much work do you have left?”
“I can probably wrap it up in an hour or so,” I say, looking back at my screen. Phooey. There goes my evil plan for trying to stretch this out.
“Let’s take a break then and get something to eat.” He gets up from his chair.
Let’s? Him and me? Alone without Brown? This is bound to be a disaster. “Um, okay,” I say reluctantly.
“What? I thought you were hungry?” He stands behind my chair and slides me out from the table. He offers his hand to help me up, and I take it. His hand is warm, and I want to keep holding it, but I let go as soon as I’m standing.
“I’m hungry. I just thought we needed to get this report done,” I say as I grab my purse and follow him out of the conference room. This was unexpected.
“We can do it later.” He pushes the down arrow on the elevator. I guess we’re leaving. This is all happening so fast.
“Won’t Mr. Calhoun care?” I glance over at his office and see the door shut, but the light is on.
“I’m the boss of Mr. Calhoun,” he says with a confident smirk on his face.
“Oh, are you really?” I say sarcastically. “I’m sure he’d love to know that you’re his boss now. I’ll just pop in and tell him before we go.” I start to walk toward Mr. Calhoun’s office, but Jared grabs my arm and pulls me back toward him.
“No, no. He doesn’t like to be reminded. It’s a touchy subject,” he says, still holding my arm and pulling me into the elevator.
Once we’re in the elevator, he lets go of my arm, and I can still feel his hand there, warm from his touch. I need to remember every detail of this so I can tell Anna and Brown and we can discuss it thoroughly.
In the elevator, we stand fairly close, and neither of us moves away from each other. I stifle the need to let out a nervous schoolgirl laugh. I must pretend I have some confidence. It’s not like I’m going to grab something to eat with a perfect stranger. This is Jared. I’ve been to lunch with him a few times now. It just feels different because it’s not lunch, it’s dinner. And Brown isn’t here, my buffer, the one who keeps me on a straight path. Oh, this is a terrible idea. I should tell him I need to go and just leave. But, of course, I know I won’t. Even if this ends badly—with me spilling food all over myself or even worse, him—I won’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with him.
“So, where should we go?” he asks as we go outside, and I shiver a bit from the cool breeze. Well, actually, it’s a nice night, so the shivering is all my nervousness coming out. It’s actually quite the perfect night. It’s not officially summer yet, but it’s getting close, and the air has a magnificent scent to it.
“Not sure. What are you in the mood for?” I ask, trying to sound as confident as I can, like this is just a normal night for me. Only it’s so not.
We stand outside for a minute, thinking about where we should go, but neither of us offering any ideas.
“Too bad I haven’t moved into my new place yet or we could go there, and I could make us something,” I say and then immediately freak out. Where did that come from? Holy crap, that was way too presumptuous.
“You got a new place?” he asks, not even flinching at the idea.
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” I thought I had, but maybe I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to get into a conversation about where I was moving from.
“No, you didn’t. Where is it?”
“Just downtown. In a high-rise off Fourteenth,” I say, feeling kind of proud of myself. I’m growing up … at the age of thirty-two. Well, better late than never.
“Let’s go check it out,” he says as he starts walking toward his car.
“But there’s nothing there. I thought you were hungry?” I say as I follow him like a little puppy dog.
“So, we’ll get some take out and eat it there.” He unlocks the doors to his car and gets in the driver’s seat. I stand by his open door, not sure what to do. “Get in, I’ll drive.” He reaches across the inside of the car and opens the passenger door for me.
I go around and get into his car, a Range Rover, I might add, that is totally decked out. How the heck can he afford this? I know what that HR position paid, and it wasn’t enough for a car like this.
I’m feeling a little dazed right now as we head off to downtown Denver to my new condo in the lower downtown area (or LoDo as we downtown residents call it). I feel like I’m in a dream sequence or something. What are we doing? Are we really going to grab something to eat and go to my condo that has absolutely nothing in it? I mean, I just signed the loan and got the keys two days ago. And now I’m bringing a man there? This is not very spinsterly. My cat was supposed to be the first to have dinner with me in my new place, not a man … and definitely not a hot one like Jared.
Jared stops at a Chinese place he says has the best take-out and gets us some food to take over to the condo. It smells so yummy, and I realize I really am hungry, which is a good thing. Maybe my having an appetite means I’m finally relaxing.
We park in the garage in my new parking spot (my new parking spot!) and take the elevator to the twelfth floor where my new residence is. I love the smell of the new paint and the look of the crown molding in the hallway leading to my condo. I can’t believe I’m going to live here. It’s just so exciting, and also a bit nerve-racking. I did mention I hate change, right? And yet here I am making a whole lot of changes in my life.
We get to my door, and I fidget around in my purse and find my new key that I haven’t even put on my key chain yet. I open the door and go inside with Jared right behind me. I flick on the light, and there it is: My. New. Place. There’s a living space just as you walk in and off to the right is my new kitchen. It’s amazing and beautiful, even though it’s smaller than I would’ve preferred. Just past the kitchen is the hallway that leads to my room and bathroom. It’s a small space, but it’s mine. I’ve been nervous as anything to move here, but as I walk in tonight with Jared in tow, I have to say, it feels like home to me, even without any of my things.
“So this is it,” I say as I set my purse and keys on the kitchen counter and look around the room.
Jared lets out a little whistle. “Nice place,” he says as he nods his approval. He puts the food on the counter and walks around a little, pausing at the large windows facing the west side of the room. It’s a full view of downtown, and the tall buildings and lights are shining brightly tonight. It was the biggest selling point for me. I wanted something with a great view, after living in a basement for so long.
I walk over to the window where Jared is standing and look out as well. “See that building over there? The one next to the building that’s shaped like a mailbox?” he says, pointing in the direction. “That’s where I live.” He keeps his eyes on the view out the window. “It doesn’t have as great a view as yours, but it’s not bad.”
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I find myself wondering if I’ll ever see the inside of his place. I wonder what it would look like. A typical bachelor pad? Or would it be all perfectly put together like his perfectly ironed shirts and pants?
I give Jared a full tour of my new place, which doesn’t take long. Afterwards, he grabs a carton of Chinese food and gives me one, and we each grab some chopsticks. We stand by the counter and eat out of the carton for a bit, which is not particularly comfortable. Then Jared, with a mouth full of food, nods his head toward the window for me to follow him and goes over and sits down on the floor. As soon as I sit down, he gets back up and goes over and turns out the lights. So now we’re in the dark, sitting on the floor, eating Chinese food, and looking out the windows of my condo at the downtown lights of Denver.
I’d say this is the most romantic night of my life ever if I didn’t already know it was not meant to be romantic on his part, and if I wasn’t a future spinster. I’ll have to recreate this with my cat.
“So, where are you living now?” he asks, grabbing a large bite of his food with his chopsticks.
Of course he’d ask that. Do I lie? I can’t tell him where I’ve been living for the past ten years. Oh gosh, I truly am such a lousy liar.
I smile sheepishly. “Well, if you must know, I’m moving out of my parents’ basement.” I quickly look down at my carton of food and dig around with my chopsticks, fretfully.
“Really?” he says in what seems like a not-very-surprised tone. Of course he’s not surprised. As hard as I’ve tried not to be a complete spinster around him, some of it has had to bleed through.
“Yep. It’s true,” I say and nod my head. Wow, I sound like such a loser.
“How long were you there?” he asks, not really taken aback like he should be.
“Oh geez, really?” I say out loud, not meaning to. I roll my eyes at myself. Might as well come clean. “I’ve lived in my parents’ basement for the last ten years.” I shamefully shake my head as I look out the window, avoiding eye contact.
“Really?” He says now sounding surprised. “Ten years? Why were you there for so long?”
“I’m not really sure? It’s not as bad as it sounds. There’s an actual apartment in their basement, so I wasn’t technically living in the same space as my parents.” Close enough, though.
“Did you pay rent?” he asks, seeming intrigued.
“No,” I say, and take a bite of my food.
“Wow, so you lived rent-free for ten years.” He shakes his head in disbelief, and then he laughs a bit to himself. “That’s pretty awesome.”
“Awesome? Really?” I scrunch my face at him. “I think it was kind of loserish, if you ask me.”
“That’s like a dream for most people. Hell, if my mom had an apartment in her basement, I don’t know if she would’ve ever gotten rid of me,” he says and smiles. “Of course, I would’ve felt it my obligation to stay there since she doesn’t have my dad around.” Sadness appears in his eyes.
“How long has your dad been gone?” I ask, changing the subject away from me and to a topic I’ve been curious about for a while.
“Since I was a sophomore in college.”
“How did he pass?”
“Heart-attack,” he says simply, and then looks out the window.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can say.
“Yeah, me too. It’s one of my biggest regrets in life and why I don’t drink anymore.” He looks down at his food, playing with his chopsticks. “He … um … well, I was at a college party, and I got pretty trashed that night. I don’t remember too much, it was that bad. He had a massive heart attack during the night, and my mom tried to call me, but I was so gone I didn’t even hear my phone. I didn’t get to say goodbye. He died the next morning.”
The sadness and regret in his voice nearly makes me burst into tears at this point, so I just look down at my food and keep digging around with my chopsticks, but not ever taking a bite.
“With him gone,” he continues, looking down at his food as well, “I’ve always felt responsible for my mom, you know? I just want to make sure she’s happy. I take her on trips every once in a while. She pretends to protest as if she doesn’t want to be taken care of, but I know she likes it.” I look up to see him looking at me, and our eyes meet for just a moment.
“Anyway, I don’t tell many people about my dad,” he says, turning his head, looking out the window.
“Yes, well, I don’t tell many people I’ve been living in my parents’ basement for the past ten years,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. It works. Jared gives me a half smile.
“I’m glad we did this. And I got to see your place,” he says as he puts his hand on my knee and squeezes it briefly.
“Me, too,” I squeak out and am eternally grateful the lights aren’t on so he can’t see me blush a million shades of red.
CHAPTER 8
“No freaking way,” Brown says as we stand outside the building on a smoke break. It’s the Monday after I had dinner with Jared, and I’m filling her in on all the gory details.
“Way,” I say in my best valley-girl impression.
“So, it was a date then,” she says as she smiles big at me.
“No! It so was not a date. I’m embarrassed you’d even say that.” I look at her like she’s an idiot.
“Did he pay for dinner? Did he drive?”
“Um, yes and yes,” I say, looking out to the parking lot.
“Then, it was a date,” she says emphatically.
“No, it really wasn’t. It was just a friendly thing. Really, it was not a date.” Was it a date? No, it wasn’t. Okay, so I’m a bit rusty in that area, but I’m sure it wasn’t.
“I’ll just have to ask him when I see him.” She gives me a little conniving smile.
“You better not!” I say a little too loudly.
“Oh, get over yourself, Jules. Of course, I won’t.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette. “So, tell me more.”
I tell her all about how we sat in the dark, in front of the window, eating our dinner on the floor. I tell her I admitted to him I’d been living with my parents, and he didn’t seem to care. I’m careful to leave out the part about his dad, knowing how private he is about it. I’m actually surprised at myself since I can’t seem to keep anything from Brown. I tell her about the touching of the leg, and she seems quite excited. We discuss that at length.
“So, how did it end?”
“He took me back to the office, and I got in my car and went home,” I say, wishing there was more to the ending than that, but there wasn’t. It was actually a little anticlimactic.
“Wow, Jules, I think this guy is totally into you.” She winks at me.
“No, no. He’s just a good friend. That’s all,” I say, but I’m secretly hoping she’s right.
“Jules, I’ve been friends with guys,” she says, pointing her cigarette at me. “And this is definitely more than friends.”
I wish she was right, but in my heart I know she’s not. Jared and I are just good friends. But I’ll take it. I can accept that. I can dream though … a spinster can have her dreams.
I head back to my office after our break. It’s amazing to me how only just recently, I hated Mondays with a passion. But now I’m excited for Mondays, and the weekends actually seem to drag. Today, I’m especially excited because we didn’t finish our super-secret report on Friday, so I get to spend time with Jared after work again. Also, the monthly budget meeting got moved to today, so I’ll get to see him there. I heart Mondays. Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever thought that sentence in my entire life.
As I walk back to my desk, I pass by Mr. Nguyen’s office. The door is closed, but I can hear voices coming from inside. Actually, it sounds a bit heated. I look around me to see if anyone is watching, then I lean into the door to see if I can hear what is going on. Could this be it? Brown heard he was on his way out, maybe they’re letting him go today. I feel a stab of sadness for some crazy reason. I don’t know w
hy I feel so bad for him. I really shouldn’t, as he’s never shown me even an ounce of compassion the entire time I’ve worked for him. Yet I can’t help myself feeling a little sadness. Of course, I’m jumping to conclusions here. They could be just having a meeting.
But wait, I recognize that voice—it’s Mr. Calhoun’s. And someone else … Jared? Is Jared in there? I can’t really make out what they’re saying. It’s muffled even with my ear to the door.
“I TOLD YOU, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!” Whoa, I heard that. That was Mr. Nguyen for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice in such a way. What is going on?
The handle on the door jiggles and I quickly jump back and try to compose myself like I’m just walking by. The door opens, and out comes Mr. Calhoun, followed by Jared. They both look at me as they come out the door. Mr. Calhoun looks flustered, and Jared looks composed but sullen. I smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. He just turns and follows Mr. Calhoun down the hall, out of my sight.
What in the heck was that all about? I briefly think of going and asking Mr. Nguyen himself, but I know he won’t give me anything. I think about going to see Brown in her office, but I head to my desk instead and get back to work on the report for the budget meeting. I only have thirty minutes, and I need to make copies and get everything in order, including myself. There’ll be time later to fill Brown in.
Just as I get everything ready and am about to head off to the bathroom to touch up my lip gloss, I get a group email from Mr. Calhoun canceling the budget meeting. I find this quite odd as it’s not Mr. Calhoun’s meeting to cancel, it’s Mr. Nguyen’s.
Well, this kind of sucks. I was hoping to see Jared without trying to find some lame excuse to run into him like I usually do.