Fourteen #2
I stared at him, into the face I knew so well, and saw what I always saw—the absolute rock-like resolve.
There was so much strength there, and I could always depend on it.
It was the same reason other people were always so drawn to him, because of that solidness you could feel.
He was unmovable, unshakable. He could be battered, but never broken.
It wasn’t often you met people who were unbreakable.
It was almost a regal bearing he had, like he should have been a king.
Someone you could surrender your life to, with an almost heroic quality.
And so, because I didn’t want him to think I was weak, I found my voice and answered him. “Yes, we’re friends.”
“Good.” He smiled warmly. “I’m glad.”
I studied him. “You want me to work for you forever, don’t you?”
The smile made his eyes shiny. “Forever. Such a timetable you choose.”
“I need to take care of you.” I said it because I felt suddenly brave and because I was feeling vulnerable and because I could.
He was the only thing I could point to and say was mine in my life.
My boss. I was possessive to a fault. If he was going to belong to me, then he had to say the words. “May I?”
He nodded.
It wasn’t enough.
“That’s a yes?” I prodded, wanting to be sure.
Wanting him to make this finally solid between us.
We had been dancing around it for so long, the commitment of friendship.
Since I was eighteen, when I started working for him.
He needed to make a choice, right then and there.
To either give me the room I needed to maneuver in his life, or back away.
To let me truly be his friend, able to speak my mind whenever I wanted, on any topic, from his love life to where he worked, to his family, to his friends, to the tie he chose in the morning.
He was agreeing to give me a voice in his life, and I would be able to weigh in and be counted.
And God help him if he agreed, because every woman who wanted him from that point on was going to be dealing with me up close and personal.
I would give my opinion freely, and good luck to them.
“Say it.”
“What are you, twelve?”
“Say it,” I said menacingly. “Say it.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“I will soon.”
“Jory, you—”
“Say it!” I demanded. I was going to kill him any second.
“That’s a yes.”
I caught my breath. I was absolutely stunned. “Really?” I couldn’t believe it.
“Yes.”
“You’re positive?”
He groaned loudly.
“Are you positive?” I asked again.
“I’m positive.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe you’re in some kind of fugue state from going to Texas.”
“You really do watch far too much television.”
“You’re emotionally vulnerable from making the trip.”
“Certainly, let’s go with that.”
“And so I get to—”
“You get to.” He cut me off, sighing heavily. He looked worn out.
“I’m so happy!”
“I know,” he said, chuckling. “I can tell.”
I couldn’t contain myself. I smiled so wide. “I can’t get fired anymore?”
“No.”
“Not that I could have before,” I clarified, looking at him hard, daring him to contradict me.
“Not that you could have before.” He smiled in defeat, shaking his head. “Good Lord, what have I done? This is how Frankenstein felt after he threw the switch.”
“You know I love you,” I blurted out before I even thought about it.
He looked at me hard.
“Don’t you?” I asked, holding my breath. Of course I had gone and pushed right over the edge, as was my way. Anything else would not have been honest, would not have been authentic.
After a moment he said, “Yes. I know.”
The look I was getting was pure annoyance, and as I watched him scowl at me, I had an epiphany.
Big word for a simple thing, but most times, it took me longer than other people to reach the same place.
“You—” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word, so I substituted an easier one. “—you like me too, huh?”
“Yes.”
“You’re compelled against your better judgment to take care of me.”
“Yes.”
Like I was his brother. “I’m very lucky.”
“Yes, you are.”
A thought crossed my mind. “Can we drink our lunch at Boca? I feel like celebrating.”
“Fine.”
“Cool.” I beamed at him, so very pleased.
“Let’s go now.” He yawned loudly.
“Wait.” I had thought of something else. “Are you going back to Texas?”
“I have no plans to do so.”
“Do they want you to go back?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“But you should.”
“Why should I?”
“Are we okay?” I asked suddenly, checking to make sure.
“Clearly.”
“And so what about your new family?” I sighed, so relieved that we were over our old relationship and beginning a new one at the same time. “You have siblings.”
“It was for Susan.” He got up and crossed the room to his desk to retrieve his suit jacket from his chair. “After this one time, there is nothing more I can offer. It’s futile to even pursue.”
“But—”
“Jory, think now—different lives will dissolve into, what, cards at Christmas? I have that now if I do nothing more. How many people do you want to have to shop for?” He smiled at me, one dark eyebrow arched in a question.
“But they’re your family.”
“I had a family before my parents died. I don’t need more.”
“Will you regret it later?”
“I very much doubt it.”
“Maybe we’ll go back.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You are part of my life, same as my other friends that I don’t share with just anyone.”
Oooh, I was grouped with the important people! “So that’s why I didn’t go?”
“That’s why.”
I nodded. “That was a nice thing to say.”
“I have my moments.”
Dane and I had such a good lunch that afterward he dumped me at home and told me he would see me the following morning.
When he shoved me out of the cab, I stood on the sidewalk waving like an idiot for several seconds.
Still buoyant four hours later, I accepted my friend Andy’s invitation to hit the club with him and a whole big group of people.
And I almost wished I would run into Sam Kage, the way I looked, because this way he could see what dressing to get laid really looked like.
The black jeans hugged my legs and ass like a second skin, sitting low on my hips, and the silk shirt was open to my abs.
I decided on my way out the door that anybody who wanted to put their hands on me was free to do so.
When one of Andy’s friends groped me in the car, I let him. He smiled and pressed himself into me.
“Andy, Jory’s open for business.”
“If he is,” Andy said, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror, “then I’ve got first dibs.”
But when the car stopped in front of the club, I spilled out and went inside with the yelling, cajoling, and calling behind me.
I wasted no time pushing my way into the crowd and losing myself.
I could feel the thump of the trance music inside my body as I danced.
They were playing vintage tracks, and I closed my eyes and moved. It was like drowning in sound.
I had many partners, but nobody could get me off the floor, so they lost interest. Even as ready for a one-night stand as I was, there was no bathroom action for me.
Screwing in a stall while other people peed had never been my idea of a good time.
So I stayed and danced until Andy came and dragged me off the floor with strong arms wrapped around my chest. I gulped down copious amounts of ice water, even though he tried to get alcohol in me.
Still on cloud nine from my talk with Dane, when I saw Nick sitting at a table near the back with some of his friends, I decided that I would give it one more try. It was almost Thanksgiving, after all.
All eyes on the table rose to me until Nick noticed that the focus was behind him and turned. His gaze came up from the floor to my face very slowly. I smiled wide for him, and I watched his jaw clench.
“Hey. Can I talk to you?”
He stood up and put a hand flat on my chest before he shoved me back. “Get lost, Jory.”
“Nick,” I said, reaching for him. “Please, just c’mere for—”
“What? You wanna say sorry for the way you treated me?” He shrugged.
“Like it matters? Like you didn’t do me a huge favor.
I mean, for shit’s sake, Jory, what the fuck was I thinking?
I’m going to be a doctor and you’re just some trash I picked up at a club.
You’re the fuck-and-forget kind, not the forever kind. ”
“Nick—”
“You’ve got one-night stand written all over you.”
One last try, because I owed him. In karma, I owed him. “Nicky, please let me just—”
“What? You want me to fuck you?” The whole table laughed at once, and I got that everybody else knew that I’d treated him badly.
They were enjoying me begging him, trying to apologize, and getting just what I deserved instead.
Payback was a bitch, and he was giving it to me with both barrels.
I was in for embarrassment and humiliation galore.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, Jory, I’ll tap that right now for you. ”
I just looked at him.
“No? You wanna take me back to your place, Jory?”
I remained silent.
“It’s a shithole, but you’re a fuck boy, so it makes sense. How many guys you have through there a night? Five? Ten?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay what? You wanna go to your place?”
I shook my head.
“Well, you’re not coming home with me,” he said snidely. “I’d have to burn my sheets afterward. And don’t get me started on how many condoms I’d have to wrap up in. I can only imagine what you’re carrying.”
I took a steadying breath and a few steps backward, then turned around and left.
And it was weird, but I almost felt better.
I had let him hurt me, give me all the venom he had, then said nothing and walked away.
It was somehow cleansing. My debt was paid.
But I couldn’t stay. Getting your ass handed to you is a buzzkill no matter what.