4. The Pull
four
“So, roomie. We’re gonna have to sleep, eventually. Do you want this couch or the one in Alex’s office?” It was clear that she had tried her best to hide her awkwardness by sounding nonchalant, which I found adorable. Yet at the same time, I was beginning to feel the cold. With no electricity, there was no heat, and the only warmth we had was from her coat and mine.
Getting up, I realized that my movement was slower than usual. “Where’s my coat?”
She chuckled. “Uh—In the meeting room?”
As I towered over her, I smirked and pointed a finger. “Observant. I like you.”
She made a goofy face and tilted her head, after which I walked away, heading over to the room. There was my coat, slung over the back of a chair. Picking it up, I pondered her question—which couch was I going to sleep on?
Walking out, I stepped into Alex’s office and looked at the two-seater to which she was referring. Far too small for me. Shaking my head, I walked back out. “Y’know? I don’t think I’d fit in there.”
From across the room, she hollered, “How tall are you, anyway?”
I pouted, thinking. “Six-four?”
“Jeez!” She threw back her head. “Yeah, you get the big couch, alright.”
I lifted up my shoulders, buttoning my coat. “It’s pretty chilly. Why don’t we share?”
She was drinking her soda when I suggested that, so she choked back a laugh and coughed. “Excuse me?”
“C’mon, Jones. We’re talking about basic survival here.” I approached her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, staring up at me with what looked like exaggerated terror.
“No.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” I sat down next to her, picking up what was left of my fruit and offering her one. “Prune?”
“No, thank you.” She bit into her cheese with a hint of aggression. “And you found your coat, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Playfully, I reached for her hand and grabbed it—it was freezing. “You won’t be.”
“Hey!” She quickly pulled it away, recoiling into the far corner of the couch. “Quit it.”
She was clearly apprehensive around me, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. Many lawyers brought out the cynic in most women like her, which was something I couldn’t fix in a few hours.
“I’m serious. When you fall asleep, your body temperature goes down. By the looks of it, you could freeze to death.” I tried to make my tone a little lighthearted, even with that warning.
“Oh, this is for my own good, is it?” She shot me a skeptical look.
“It is!” I insisted. “Why would I need to make a move right now? I’m not stupid. You’re my only ally in this storm.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And what movie is that from?”
I stared ahead, pretending to try to remember. I heard her laugh and sensed that she might put down her guard around me—or was this me being high?
“I know a thing or two about movie clichés, my friend,” she added. “Soon enough you’ll claim that we have to get naked to use our body heat—”
“No, no, no.” I chuckled, wagging a finger in objection. “That’s not my game.”
“Your game? Who talks like that?”
I turned to her, humorously asking, “Not my… move?”
“Whatever, dude.” She shook her head and popped a cracker in her mouth, following it with a sip of soda. All the food coloring from the soda must have made her lips redder. Staring at her, I caught myself wondering if I would taste cherry if I kissed her. I quickly dismissed the thought. “Okay, look.” She put out both hands in the air. “Maybe if we take off our coats and huddle up, we can use them as blankets. Double up the layers?”
“Ah!” I leaned back with my head, chortling. “So that’s your move.”
“I’m using your logic!” Her pitch got higher.
“Let’s test it.” Putting aside my snack, I stood up and proceeded to take off my coat. Again, my imagination took me to watching her undress. She couldn’t have been taller than five-five. I could pick her up and lay her down on this couch…
Drowning in my fantasy, I missed actually seeing her take off her coat. When I looked again, she was shrunk there, shivering, holding it up, waiting for me to sit next to her. As I scooted over, I was surprised that I hadn’t smelled her perfume earlier. I made a sniffing sound with my nose. “What’s this?”
“Cheese? Cherry pop?”
“Amber with a hint of… white floral?”
Rolling her eyes, she ended it with a sharp stare. “Stop hitting on me.”
“I’m not!” The wind outside blew stronger, causing the windows and doors to rattle and jangle louder. A sharp draft attacked, making her dip her head between her shoulders, breathing in sharply. Looking at her head so low beside my shoulder, I raised my arm. “May I?”
She looked up. “What are you doing?”
Slowly and barely touching her shoulders, I laid down my arm and admitted, “I’m just trying to get you warm, is all.”
Wedged in under my arm, she pulled the coats over her shoulder, sighing and murmuring in a low voice, “I’ll allow it.” She then paused before saying, “For once, let’s hope the big man actually means to help the little man.”
I chuckled. “So many jokes!”
“Bring it.”
“First of all, you being a man puts me in an unusual position.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You can’t possibly be serious. I just took on one of your most challenging cases for free.”
“What was it? Survivor’s guilt?”
“Really?” I couldn’t help but smell her hair—it was right there under my nose. “You don’t believe that people can be good?”
“Some people.”
“I could be some people. You don’t know me.”
“I know that you’re wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit to a meeting in Cold Spring. Do you have any idea how many families that would feed?”
“I could be feeding families while treating myself to a nice suit. Haven’t you ever—”
“This isn’t about me, Mr. Wright.”
“Put a pin in that. We’re nestled under our coats in the dark. I think it’s time you called me Nathan.”
She impatiently exhaled. “Well, Nathan… I hate to discriminate based on appearances, but in my line of work? People who shop where you do usually end up conning those who don’t out of their most basic rights.” Lifting up her head, she stared at me with a defiant look. “You don’t think Jacob Buzz made a fraction of his wealth by blatantly stealing from people like Ryan McFadden?”
“I do, and that’s why I’m standing against him and his sleazy lawyer in court. I’m on McFadden’s side.” Frustrated, I confessed out loud, “I can’t believe I need to defend myself to you.”
“You don’t need anything from me, least of all my approval.”
“Fine, what if I want it, though?”
“Shocking.” She scoffed. “When was the last time a successful, famous attorney didn’t get what he wanted?”
I hadn’t the slightest idea why her words got to me—I was normally cool as ice. “Who hurt you?” I spitefully threw the question. It didn’t mean that I didn’t immediately regret it.
“Classy,” she whispered. “Let’s just stop talking.”
“Or what? You’ll throw me out into the storm?”
“It might come as a surprise to you, but I’m not that bitter.” She paused, snuffling before lowering her voice, “Besides, I’d never forgive myself.”
“Ca—”
“I said, stop talking.”
“Looks like it’s gonna be a long night. You didn’t seem so upset about being stuck here before, but I’m starting to think that it was all an act.”
“Damn right it was,” she blurted out. “I, too, had plans, you know.”
Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Patting her arm—careful not to make it feel remotely affectionate—I whispered, “If there’s a chance we’d come out of here as friends… I’d like to take it.”
“You know that’s not practical, Nathan. We don’t even live in the same city.”
“If I managed to keep friendships in Athens alive, I’m sure I can make this work.” I looked down and thought I saw her cheeks rise with a smile. “So… where were you supposed to be tonight?”
She remained quiet for a moment before finally responding, “JFK? Getting on a plane?”
“Someplace warm?”
“In a non-tangible sense, yes.”
“With a boyfriend?”
“Quit hitting on me.”
“Seriously?”
“With my parents… and my older brother.”
“Where were you all gonna go?”
“Just me. They all live in Paris.”
“Plot twist!” I smiled. She didn’t see it. “Is that why you speak French?”
“My mom is from Dijon. She moved to Paris in college and that was where she met my dad.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’re French?”
“Dad’s from Jersey. He was only there on a student exchange program. A year later, they moved here together.”
I softly chuckled. “Sounds romantic.”
“I hate that word.”
“Wow. You’d get along with my mom just fine.”
“Does she also think it’s a term that’s been abused to alter the minds of women and drive on a dozen industries run by men?”
“Oh, no.” I quickly shook my head. “She voluntarily makes those jerks richer every day. She just thinks that sentimentalities are a waste of time.”
“And your dad?”
“Loves that about her.”
“What about you?”
“I’m just a rich asshole in a nice suit trying to redeem himself by helping an obscure musician.”
When I least expected it, she slapped my chest with the palm of her hand under the coats before quickly pulling it back. Then I watched her pull away and straighten up, “I think the water’s still warm. Wanna drink something? Might as well make use of it now.”
Every time we started talking like friends, she would withdraw. I completely understood it and even respected it, since it mirrored my guarded approach with most people. Nodding, I gave her her coat. “Let’s do it.” I stood up and asked, “What do you have?”
As she walked ahead of me, she lifted up her arms to put on her coat. “We have Moroccan mint tea, chamomile, ginger turmeric…” I lost the trail of what she was saying as my eyes lingered on the sway of her hips.
In the kitchenette, she looked at me as I stood in the doorway. When I didn’t say anything, she picked up a box. “So? Which is it?”
“Do you have any black tea?”
Raising an eyebrow, she grabbed another box. “Yes? I literally said we do ten seconds ago.”
Right. But I was staring at your ass. “Jeez, I’m so high. Yeah, I’ll have that. Thank you.”
“Good choice.” For a minute, my eyes followed her as she put in the sugar, stirred, dunked the teabags in, and steeped hers. “Leave it in?”
“Yes, please.” My voice came out softer and hoarser than I thought it would, so I swiftly cleared my throat. “Shit, I must be catching a cold.”
“Oh, no. Please don’t give me that. I still have hope that I’ll find another flight out.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you will.”
“Try this.” She cleared her throat before singing, “I’m leaving on a jet plane?”
Chuckling, I hung down my head and shook it repeatedly. “Not gonna happen, Jones.”
“I thought we were on a first-name-basis now.”
I looked up from under my eyebrows, still smiling. “Not a chance, Sophie,” I pronounced her name in French.
She softly gasped, placing her hand over her chest. “My God! Nobody says it like that except my mom.” Her face then suddenly straightened back to an expressionless state as she dropped her head, clutching a mug. “Smooth. But I’m not falling for it.”
Before I could object, she handed me my mug and let her shoulder brush against mine as she walked past me out the door.