Chapter Nineteen
Jamie
I get a call back from Gideon Hartford just as I’m about to finish work on Friday. With one quick glance back at my boss’s office, I hurry out and into the stairwell, just hoping that we get this over with before everyone starts piling out and might overhear.
“Jamie! I hope you’re well.”
“Fine, sir, thank you.” I wrap my free arm around my middle.
Is this where he tells me I haven’t got the job?
I don’t know whether I’ll be disappointed or not.
I’ve been thinking about it more this week, and I really will miss everyone.
But then, I had even more friends before I met Tim.
Well, maybe not more. Different friends.
Friends who maybe weren’t, really, since I don’t think about them much anymore.
“So, to be frank, things won’t quite be what we’ve discussed.”
I frown. “Sorry, I… How so?”
“I am looking to make a move to London in the very near future. Not the entire business, of course, and as needed, I will be up here in Edinburgh, but…” He sighs. “You seemed quite keen on the change of scenery during your interview. I hope it won’t be a problem?”
“I—Sorry, are you saying I’ve got the job?”
Gideon laughs. “Of course! Sorry, I rather got ahead of myself there, didn’t I?”
I can hardly catch my breath. “I think so?”
“Don’t say yes right away, of course. Have a think about it, especially considering the change. I’ll give you another ring on Monday, see how you feel. We can talk through the particulars then.”
“Yes. Yes, okay.”
Gideon hangs up without another word, and I sag back against the grey wall, now breathing like I’ve just run a marathon. I got the job? And I might not have to leave the city?
Well, to be an assistant to a man like Gideon, I guess I will be leaving now and again, but I can still live here, me and Nick and Em—
Fuck. I rub a hand over my face and try to pull myself together. Nothing will change soon. I have to give a month’s notice here, regardless, and I still have two days to really think about it.
Still, when I get back into the office, it’s difficult to keep the grin off my face. Things are really looking up.
They’re looking up further when I get home to find only Em there.
He’s sitting on the sofa, the TV on low as he squints at his laptop.
I blink in surprise. He’s pushed his glasses up—I guess so he can see whatever is on the screen better, though considering how close his face is to it, I’ll be surprised if he’s making out more than five pixels—and his dark hair is all messy.
“Em?”
He jerks his head up and blinks, squints at me, then seems to realise and pulls his glasses back into place. “Hey! You’re home early.”
“No, I’m not?” I say, making the sentence an amused question. Em glances at his laptop again, presumably to check the time.
“Oh. It’s late.”
“Not really.” I shrug off my jacket and throw it over the back of the armchair. “Cuppa?”
“Please.”
I get him a new mug out of the cupboard, and he shuffles into the kitchen a few minutes later, pouring half a cup of tea out into the sink. He’s not been sleeping, clearly, but he has that bleary, warm look about him and I want to pull him closer.
I turn back to the kettle. I can’t. What I did on Wednesday was… Unforgivable, really. Even if Patch doesn’t seem to mind—Em told me that, too.
“You seem in a good mood,” Em says. He leans against the counter, watching me now. “Good weekend planned?”
I snort. “You know what all my plans are. Do nothing tomorrow, meet Cecile Sunday morning, have dinner out Sunday night. Nick will be here, by the way. Don’t let him abandon you just because I’m not around.
” I want to invite him to dinner with all of us.
I really do. And should everything go well with him and Patch, I guess I’ll be able to, at some point.
But in the meantime, I don’t want him to be alone.
“I’m working Saturday night,” Em says with a little shrug. “I expect I won’t be good company on Sunday, since I’ll be asleep.”
Working. I guess he does that chat customer service thing because I never hear him on a call. Doesn’t sound like he has meetings either, lucky guy.
Not that I’m listening. Eavesdropping. That would be rude.
I hand him a cup of tea and Em makes no move to go back into the living room. He sips it instead, letting out a contented hum as the liquid slips down his throat. “That’s perfect, thank you.”
“Got distracted by work?”
“Something like that.” Em studies me. “You didn’t answer me, though. The good mood?”
My grin erupts again, and it must be infectious because Em smiles right back. “I got the job!”
His smile wobbles but doesn’t fall, and my heart beats a little faster. Oh, it’s so difficult not to want him. Just like Patch, really. What would he think of all this? He knows how I feel about my job, though I never told him I was looking for anything else.
“So, you’re leaving?”
“That’s the best part. Looks like the company is expanding, or something, so I can stay based here. I guess I’ll have to go to Edinburgh from time to time, or other places, I don’t know, but I’ll be here pretty often.”
Now Em’s smile looks real again. “That is good news.”
“He’s going to call me back on Monday. I’ve got the weekend to think it over, but I already know what I’m going to say.” I laugh. “The salary is ridiculous. I’ll have to work my notice at my current job, but that’s only a month. I’ll manage it.”
“I’ve no doubt.” Em sets his cup down carefully and when he moves closer, my breath catches.
I tip my head back to look up into his face.
He doesn’t have the same physical presence as Patch, not being nearly as broad, but energy crackles between us and it has my knees weak all the same. “You deserve good things, Jamie.”
“So do you,” I breathe.
Will he kiss me? I think he wants to. His gaze falls to my mouth and stays and when my lips part, he licks his own in what has to be an unconscious movement.
We can’t. Patch might be okay with one fuckup, but we can’t make it a pattern. Not now. Not here. Not when no one is around to stop us.
Em seems to come to the same conclusion as me. Maybe he reads it from my face. I don’t know. Still, he reaches out and cups my cheek, just for a second, and I lean into that touch, just for a second, too.
“What do you want for dinner?” he asks, moving back, and cool air rushes in between us, making my skin feel too hot.
“I-I don’t…”
“Let’s order in. My treat.” Em’s still looking at me too seriously underneath the heat and the want, and I want to ask if something has happened, but I don’t see what could have changed since I left this morning.
He crosses to the kitchen door and, when I don’t move, he glances back.
“Come on,” he says, smiling. “We’ll order pizza or something when Nick gets here. Let’s watch TV for a bit?”
I take a step forward on legs that feel like jelly. “Y-yeah, okay.”