Marriage For One

Rose: You’re eating lunch in your office by yourself?

Jack: Yes.

Rose: Why didn’t you tell me? I make great sandwiches.

I looked down at my high-priced steak lunch and wished I had a sandwich instead.

Jack: Next time.

Rose: Okay. I’ll let you go so you can finish eating before the meeting.

I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, because calling her was not what I was supposed to do next. She answered on the second ring right when I put her on speaker.

“Jack? Why are you calling?”

“After receiving all these texts, I’d say you’re not annoyed or angry with me anymore, correct?”

Her voice sounded a little sheepish when she answered. “Not at the moment. I’m not the best at holding grudges, as you can see.”

I’m gonna have to remind you of that when the time comes.

“I’m guessing things are not busy at the coffee shop if you can text for that long.”

“And I’m guessing you hate texting.” She was right; I really did. “We do have customers,” she continued. “Wait, let me check.” There was silence for a few seconds then her voice came back on the line. “Eight tables full and four more at the bar. I’m covering the front and talking to you. Oh wait, customer number sixty-nine just walked in.”

“I’m hanging up then.”

“Why? No. Stay on the line—I’ll be right back.”

I should’ve hung up. Instead, I listened to her take an order.

“Jack, you there?”

“You told me to wait.”

“Good. I’m preparing two macchiatos. They’re to-go. Are we going to do something tonight?”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like any events, work dinners, client meetings?”

“I was under the assumption you weren’t a fan of those.”

“I’m not, but the last time wasn’t so bad. We can have fun or make it fun—this whole make-believe thing, especially since I know you better now.”

“You think you know me?”

“Oh, yes, Jack Hawthorne. I’ve pretty much figured you out. One second.”

She went back to her customer and, like a fool, I kept waiting, anxious to hear what she was going to say next.

“I’m back. What was I saying?”

“You think you figured me out.”

“Ah, yes. I actually have a pretty good idea what kind of person you are.”

“Are you going to share or are you going to make me wait for it?”

“Oh, I’m going to make you wait. I think you’ll like that more.”

“I won’t. Tell me now.”

Her laughter rang in my ears and I closed my eyes, drinking it in.

“Nope. Oh, customer seventy and seventy-one just walked in. I’ll see you tonight, Jack. Show someone some smiles for me. Bye!”

Just like that, she hung up, leaving me wanting for more. Is this my life now?

My mood only declined when I tried to focus on the documents in front of me and couldn’t. All I could think about was how I could dig myself out of this grave I’d ended up in. When the time came, I left for the meeting. Thankfully, everything else was ready, so after doing a quick check on the documents just to confirm everything was in order, I stepped out of my office.

Cynthia greeted me, standing up.

“If you’re ready, let’s go.”

She grabbed her tablet and followed me.

“Bryan Coleson called. Twice, today.”

I gritted my teeth, but didn’t answer.

“Did you tell her?”

I stopped moving. She took a few steps but, realizing I wasn’t walking anymore, stopped and backtracked.

“You’re going to stop asking me that question,” I forced out, trying my best not to be too rude.

“I have so much respect for you, Jack. You know I do. I’ve been working with you for years and I’ve never done this, but right now you need someone to tell you you’re doing wrong. I’m that someone. As foreign as that idea is, you know you’re doing wrong.”

“We’re late to the meeting. If you want to—”

“No, we’re not. Morrison called ten minutes ago to say he’d be late. Gadd is waiting with his lawyers.”

I tried again. “I respect you, too, Cynthia. Like you said, you’ve been with me for years now, but this doesn’t concern you, and I’d think after the years we’ve spent together, you’d know better than to push me on this.”

“I care about you, so I’d say I should.”

I started walking again, silently passing some of the senior associates as they greeted me. Cynthia kept up with my pace, not uttering another word. I thought she was finally done, but that changed when no one else was in sight and it was just us again.

“Just tell her. It’s not too late.”

I came to another abrupt stop. Ready for it this time, she halted next to me, a little out of breath. After glancing behind me, I pulled her into a small junior associate office and closed the door. Our voices would still carry outside, but at least it would be muffled and there would be some semblance of privacy.