“Great. My dad doesn’t hate accountants, margaritas, indecisive people or ponytails so you’re safe there. I think we’re in the clear.”
“That’s too simplistic. I appreciate what you did there, but life is way more complex than that. Your dad’s my boss.”
“So what, Britt? How is that a deciding factor? He doesn’t get a vote on who I decide to be with. If he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me. Which he won’t because he doesn’t want me to run off to New Zealand and run a damn bar which is how my brother reacted to his demands.”
“I have to live in the context of my job and my friends. We don’t just exist in a vacuum. People will think that I’m trying to get ahead at work by sleeping with you.”
“That’s insulting to us both. You’re a competent professional and you could just as easily be with me because I’m incredible in bed.”
“You are incredible in bed, and on the couch, too, but that’s not the point. The point is, it casts me in a bad light, my professional integrity and reputation are important to me.”
“Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“Important to you,” he finished bleakly.
“Yes, of course you are!”
“Then the problem is just something you’re manufacturing to push me away,” he declared.
“No, I have legitimate concerns that you refuse to acknowledge.”
“I know exactly how to fix this. We go public. When I get back, we’re going out, having dinner with my dad, getting it out in the open so you don’t feel like you have to keep it a secret. I know that bothers you. Then we can settle in and start just enjoying each other, no stress.”
“We can just talk about this when you get back, okay? I don’t want to keep having this fight.”
“We’re not fighting. We’re discussing energetically.” He pointed out with a half-hearted laugh.
“Good night, Jack,” she said and rang off.
Then she finished the caramel corn. The entire bag.
Chapter 9
The next day, she actually dodged into the ladies room to avoid seeing Phillip Fitzsimmons, Jack’s father and her boss. He was rounding the corner and she ducked in to the bathroom to keep from running into him. Somehow she felt conspicuous, like he could look at her and know she was involved with his son. Hiding out in the bathroom, she peered closely at her reflection in the dusty mirror. Time to pluck her eyebrows again, she thought, and it might be time to start coloring her hair..she could definitely spot more than three grays along her hairline. She smiled, thinking of how Greg said his hair was a huge issue on Tinder. Then she cursed herself for thinking fondly of Greg when she had Jack over in Hong Kong pining away for her and wanting to take her to dinner with his father. His father—the eminent chief operation officer of Creative Consulting. That guy she was hiding in the bathroom to avoid. She groaned aloud at the thought, at all the conflict she’d brought into her own life.
If she hadn’t accepted that margarita at Tamarind weeks ago, if she’d told the waiter shortly to return it to the sender and ignored him, then she’d never have met Jack. At least not until he took a job at his dad’s newest acquisition but then it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t already be known to each other—like, biblically. She could flirt with Greg, guilt-free. She could go to work without dreading the sight of her otherwise fairly nice boss. But then she would never have held her phone in awe while Jack played a song he’d written for her. She’d never have had the most tremendous sex of her entire life with him. She’d never have had the nerve to walk out on Chris at that Italian restaurant if she didn’t have the shot of confidence that being with Jack had given her. She wouldn’t be falling in love in spite of all her best efforts to avoid it.
Britt grabbed her phone.
“It’s possible that I’m falling for you,” she messaged him.
“That could be the source of your panic,” he replied almost instantaneously.
“I’m happy I met you. I’m happy I took you home with me. I just haven’t figured out how to fit you into my life yet,” she answered.
“I’m flexible. I’ll fit,” he replied cheekily and she couldn’t help smiling.
She glanced down at her phone and was overcome by the desire to just kiss the touchscreen. She laughed at the impulse and her laugh echoed starkly in the confines of the bathroom. She returned to her desk, working, thinking about how she couldn’t wait to get home so she could call Jack and really talk to him about how she felt, how she’d admitted at last that she felt. The connection with him was too strong to be denied.
At quitting time, she got a text. Smiling, she opened the message expecting Jack. Instead it was Greg reminding her of their ‘coffee date’. She cringed inwardly. She thought about texting him that she couldn’t make it, that she had a meeting, but she thought he deserved better than that. Just then she got a text from Jack. She didn’t reply. The chime jingled again, another message, from Jack again this time. He was asking how her day was. She replied, “ok” and shoved the phone back in her pocket. When he texted back, she ignored it.
She went to the coffee shop. Greg was already seated, his tablet out on the table. He was as cute as she remembered, as easygoing. He smiled when she approached and she couldn’t help feeling a little thrill at how happy he was to see her, how nice his smile was. Her phone buzzed but she ignored it.
“Ready to revolutionize my Tinder profile, gorgeous?” he said, rising and grabbing her in a bear hug.
Britt stiffened and waited for the unexpected hug to end. He pulled back, held her by the shoulders at arm’s length like he was a long lost friend, and proceeded to kiss her on both cheeks. When he released her after this onslaught of affection she subsided into her chair and stared at him.