The F-Word

It’s not a comfortable moment.

I feel pretty much as if I were fourteen, standing outside her door with the first girl I ever took on a date. Well, no. Not exactly. Back then, my Mom was waiting for me at the end of the driveway in her Chevy Malibu because she’d driven us back and forth to the movies, but I have that same sense of trying to figure what I’m supposed to do next.

Bailey breaks the vaguely uneasy silence.

“Matthew. I want to thank you for—”

“I’m glad to help.”

“I’ll repay you for all the things you bought.”

“No way. I won’t permit it. I came up with this idea; I’ll see it through.”

“I will,” she said, with that tilt of her chin and that look of determination that make her the best PA you could ever want.

“Let’s argue about it after we see if Uncle Al uses the right fork.”

That wins me a smile. Such a soft, easy smile. It makes me want to lean down and kiss her again—but I am done with courting danger. This whole thing is, just as I’d told my sister, one friend doing something helpful for another friend. Nothing less. Nothing more.

Right.

Except doing something helpful for a friend isn’t supposed to make you want to scoop that friend into your arms, carry her off to a quiet place where you can strip her naked and kiss her everywhere, touch her everywhere…

“Okay,” Bailey says. “So, I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”

“No. Forget that.”

“We don’t have to leave until the afternoon, remember?”

“Yeah. I know. But there’s nothing on the calendar for tomorrow. I checked.”

Another smile. “You checked?”

“I know. I never do. I rely on you. But I looked and we’re clear all day tomorrow. So I’ll just pick you up at your place at noon. Good?”

“You said two.”

“That might be cutting it a little close. Noon, okay?”

“Fine. And, really, thank you.”

“Hey,” I say, “I’m the one who should be thanking you. Without today’s little foray into Mall World—”

She laughs. “Mall World?”

“Without it, I’d never know the difference between Valentino and McQueen and all those other bozos.”

Another smile. “Neither would I. Your sister is wonderful.”

“Yeah. She’s improved some since she was ten.”

Smile number three, and damned if I don’t want to take my PA in my arms and kiss her.

The realization terrifies me. That kiss in front of my sister. Now I’ve come within a second of a kiss in the parking lot where anybody who works for me could see us.

I did mention I used to play football, right? And soccer. Yeah, and I’m still fast on my feet. In a heartbeat, I’m around the side of my car and safe behind the wheel.

“See you tomorrow,” I say.