Chapter 9 #2
For some reason Jude’s face kept coming up as the answer to all those questions. But I tamped that shit down immediately because it felt stupid and too fast. We barely knew each other, and as I’d said to myself and other people a million times, I was here for other reasons.
Then why did things going well with Jude seem to feel just as important as OuNYe succeeding?
Jude
There was a lot of brown skin flashing on the screen of my phone, and I went for it so fast I almost spilled coffee all over my desk.
“Shit!” I yelled after I knocked over an empty water bottle and bumped my desk chair. After settling down, I opened the screen and saw a text from Nesto, it was pointless to try to hide my smile as I read.
Looks like I got marked up last night, wonder how that happened…you better hope my t-shirt covers it or it’s payback if I see you tonight.
The image was a shot of his chest, right on his collarbone above his tattoo there was a little red bruise; it wasn’t very big, but it was definitely a bite. I tried to overlook that “if” on his message glaring at me like a beacon, and responded, chuckling as I typed.
You must have the wrong person. I have no idea how that got there.
I was grinning like an idiot staring at the three floating dots as Nesto typed his message.
I’ll make sure to fill you in on how this sort of thing happens then. I’m still up for that drink if you change your mind.
Why could I not just say yes? I had nothing going on tonight. I could meet him for a drink. I could see him again.
It’s what I wanted.
I’m not sure. I have a packed day today, but I’ll text you when I leave the library.
The heat on my face and the churning in my stomach, as I waited for the rebuff I was sure would come was a twisted comfort. Because a man like that didn’t need to beg anyone for a drink.
Those three dots lingered for what felt like hours, and by the time the bubble with his message appeared on the screen I was lightheaded from holding my breath.
You just let me know. I’m here. Have a good day Jude. <3 TTYL
Dammit.
You, too.
I closed my phone and sat there for a minute, feeling mildly nauseated with dread and anticipation. I tried to think back to a time when anything had felt this inevitable, this important, and I came up blank.
Three years after keeping myself at a safe distance from anything involving messy feelings, Nesto was making me want to be bold, and that terrified me.
I returned from my thoughts and saw Carmen staring at me with a funny look.
She came over and sat on my desk with her arms crossed.
“Okay, spill. What’s all this grinning, then frowning, then staring into space looking spooked about?
I know at least some of it must be Nesto. How did it go last night?”
Her pushiness truly knew no bounds.
“Yes, some of it was in fact Nesto. Last night was nice.” I cleared my throat.
“Ooooh.” She nodded with a smirk, like I said something very scandalous. “Nice, huh? I assume by that you mean sex.”
I blushed again and looked away. Because even though I was thirty years old, it was still pretty embarrassing to talk about sex with other people, even my best friend.
“Well, I wouldn’t say full on sex, but we kissed and fooled around a bit.
It was good, he’s attentive and gentle, and very intense.
” I groaned, closing my eyes. “It was amazing and I can’t stop thinking about him, which is a problem because I’m not really looking to get involved.
He wants to go for another drink tonight, and I don’t know.
” I squeezed my eyes shut and let out an agonized breath.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I could tell she was about to go on a monologue about my stupid self-imposed love drought, but I wasn’t doing that this morning, so I held up my hand before she started.
“I know what you’re going to say. I can lecture myself inside my head if you like, but I need to get back to work, and so do you,” I turned toward my keyboard, smiling placidly. Carmen was having none of it.
“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t do that shit where you pretend everything is fine, but you’re actually a ball of anxiety. Hon, what’s the harm in getting to know him a bit? Besides—” Carmen stopped talking and looked up, her face immediately going icy.
“Hi Misty. Can we help you with anything?”
Great. The final nail to the coffin carrying my Nesto afterglow had arrived.
I sighed and looked in the direction of the door and saw her walk in. She was in her usual workout-chic attire. How she got away with wearing yoga pants to work seventy-five percent of the time was a mystery to me. Today she was wearing a top in a particularly vision-searing shade of orange.
Misty was in her fifties, with skin so fair you could see the veins.
She was one of those women who fought a hard and bloody battle against aging, and it showed.
Her face was tight and stretched from all the work she’d gotten done, and she was always talking about her workout routines and beauty treatments.
She was married to one of the big real estate developers in the area, and as she regularly let us know, she worked for the library as a favor. She was good at her job, I gave her that, but it came at a cost because she antagonized everyone.
“Hi there. Working hard I see.” She flashed us both with a smile that made my entire body shudder. “Carmen, I was surprised I didn’t see you getting lunch with Jude yesterday at the new ‘ethnic’ truck he seems to like so much.”
She used air quotes for “ethnic.”
“It looked like it was doing a lot of business. Too bad there are like three Mexican places in town already. They should enjoy the business while it lasts.”
Carmen immediately objected. “It’s not Mexican food, Misty. It’s Caribbean food, which is nowhere near the same thing. Have you even eaten there yet?”
She made a face like Carmen just asked her if she liked eating dirt. “Oh no, I’m not really into foreign foods. I like more authentic American fare.”
I spoke up, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “OuNYe’s food is American, Misty. It’s made in this country, by people who live here. That’s what American is.”
She produced another one of those shark smiles.
“So inclusive,” she quipped, her voice dripping with condescension. “You two are certainly well-informed. I tried to talk to the man who works there when he first came to town. Being on the city council I need to make sure everything is above board with people doing business here.”
God, she pissed me off so much.
She knew perfectly well Nesto was the owner of the truck.
He hadn’t mentioned she’d asked about his documents.
How the hell did she think that was okay?
She probably justified it to herself because he was brown, and to her, all brown people were “illegals.” I knew I shouldn’t get in her face because of the mobile library project, but this was too much.
I got up so we were at eye level. “If you mean Nesto, he doesn’t work there, he owns the truck.
As far as I know he has everything in order to operate his business.
Actually, the truck has been doing great and he’s already getting requests to work the summer festivals.
You saw it yourself at the market yesterday. ”
Her eyes widened when I mentioned the festivals because her son probably hadn’t gotten a single invitation.
“You certainly seem to know a lot about him, Jude,” she said, giving me a sour look.
“He’s a friend, and also very serious about making his business take off here in Ithaca, so I expect you’ll be seeing his truck around for a while.”
Behind me Carmen said, “We’re trying to work here, Misty. So unless you have something you need.” She moved her hands in a shooing motion in the direction of the door.
“Oh no,” she said, still glaring at us. As she started for the door she looked at me.
“Just checking in. I saw you sent out a draft of your proposal first thing this morning. Hopefully it’ll work out for you this year.
It’s so hard for the board to figure out what to prioritize; they need a lot of guidance. ”