EIGHT #4
“Oh, that’s really helpful, thanks. I think I’ll suggest that at our next committee meeting.”
He pushed his empty glass away and crossed his arms in front of him. “Hate to break it to you, but bringing in an expensive consultant isn’t going to change a damn thing around here.”
“Well, especially not if people like us refuse to tell him anything,” I said.
We glared at each other.
I was reeling. This was the first disagreement Tyler and I had ever had.
Not counting the moment he’d stormed off at the firm outing, we weren’t used to any sort of tension between us.
Tyler Robinson was the one person I depended on to get it, my only friend at the firm who’d laugh with me at egregious instances of white hetero male cluelessness behind his closed office door.
And I knew I was the only one he confided in, too.
Being on opposite sides of an issue—especially this one—made me sad and uneasy.
I’d already lost Murph. I couldn’t afford to lose Tyler, too.
Tyler seemed to be reading my mind. His voice softened. “Look. It would be different if I believed anything was ever really going to change.”
I grinned. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever been accused of being an optimist.”
He didn’t crack a smile. “Just pick your battles carefully, that’s all. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Murph reappeared next to me, which Tyler took as a cue to look at his BlackBerry and slide off his bar stool. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I should get going.”
Murph didn’t protest. “Okay, later, man.”
“Later.”
Tyler gave me a meaningful look and left us alone.
I took a slow sip from my Amstel, still thinking about Tyler’s parting shot. When I set my beer back down, Murph was looking thoughtfully at me. I spoke first.
“So,” I said brightly. “Getting anywhere with the new Litigation paralegals? The brunette one’s really pretty.” I was trying as hard as I could to sound natural, to get back to that easy, carefree banter that had once come so easily—but had eluded us ever since the outing.
“Nah,” Murph said, grinning in the direction of the jukebox. “Forster’s doing just fine, though. Figured I should get out of there, stop cockblocking him.” He hopped up onto the bar stool next to mine and lightly brushed against my arm. “I wasn’t interested anyway, if you want to know the truth.”
“Really. Why not?” I asked. I kept my tone light and noncommittal.
“It’s just—you’d be really proud of me, Yung—I think I’m finally reformed,” said Murph, and he sounded like he might be kidding, a little, but only just.
“Well, this is news. Reformed, you say. How so?”
“The way I see it,” said Murph, and his tone was jocular again, “I’m already thirty-five years old. That’s halfway to seventy.”
“You’re ancient,” I agreed.
Murph grinned. “Exactly. And so, at some point, I have to get serious. I mean, I can’t be chasing twentysomethings around the rest of my life, can I?”
“Well, if anyone can, it’d be you.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t want to be That Guy who’s forty, never been married, trolling his nephew’s wedding reception for bridesmaids, you know?”
I nodded. “Nobody wants to be That Guy.”
“So, then.” Murph swiveled his bar stool around so that his knee was unmistakably touching mine. “You see my dilemma.”
I smiled. And, newly minted optimist that I was, I decided to seize the moment.
Lowering my voice conspiratorially, so that Murph had to lean in very close, I fixed him with my most inviting smile. “I think I do, but the question is—what are you going to do about it?”
I expected Murph to grin and say something flip, but his expression changed. He looked at me for a long solemn moment, then pressed his mouth right next to my ear and whispered, “What I should have had the guts to do at the outing.”
His breath was warm and close against my neck, and I flushed with pleasure.
I tried to contain the tingling that started in the base of my stomach and was radiating through the rest of me.
I cast about for something witty to say, but all I could manage was “So why didn’t you say anything to me that night? ”
He paused a beat and put one of his hands over mine, looking straight into my eyes. “You’re not my usual type, Yung. I don’t normally date women who are smarter than I am. I really don’t want to screw this up.”
It was the best thing anyone had said to me in a very long time.
“So, don’t screw it up, then.”
He grinned, and suddenly something about the old Murph was back. “Well, I’ve been a complete gentleman so far, don’t you think? I didn’t even come home with you when I could have.”
I blushed. “What are you talking about?”
“The night of the outing. When I put you in the cab. You told me to get in.”
I was mortified.
“You heard that?”
He nodded. “But I didn’t think I should take advantage of you in that state.”
I tried, unsuccessfully, to stop blushing.
Murph tilted his head toward my empty Amstel bottle. “Another drink?”
I looked around. Murph and I were the last ones standing.
“No.” I smiled at him and slid off my bar stool. “Let’s get out of here.”