Dear Heart, I Hate You
Page 45
“Busy, but good. Yours?”
“Same.”
“I saw the market took a nosedive,” she said, and I laughed because I knew she only started following the market to see how my day was.
“You did, huh? Stalking me again?”
“Just your market. You okay, though?”
“Yeah, it was fine. A few clients freaked out, but I calmed them down. It’s a lot of repeating myself with them, you know? Reassuring them and hearing them out.”
“I get it. I’d freak out if it was my money. I wouldn’t want to lose it.”
“That’s why I’m there. I move it around to minimize the losses, and I monitor everything so there are no surprises.”
She sighed. “It’s so hot when you talk about work.”
I laughed. “Sure it is.”
“No, really. I mean it.”
“Thanks, anyway.” I hesitated a moment before saying, “I was thinking about something and wanted to run it by you so you could tell me if you’re on board with it or not.”
“Okay . . .”
She sounded a little nervous and apprehensive, which wasn’t what I wanted at all, so I blurted, “I want to come out there and see you.”
“Wait, you what?” she asked, her tone instantly changed into one of surprise.
“Is that the wrong thing to do? If it is, you can say no,” I said, suddenly more unsure of myself than I’d ever been.
Shit. What if she didn’t want to see me again the way I wanted to see her?
“Say no? Are you crazy? It’s not wrong at all. It’s the greatest thing you’ve ever said. Come tomorrow. Come right now!” She laughed, that unselfconscious belly laugh that I loved, and said, “I miss your lips!”
Relieved, I released a pent-up breath. “They miss you,” I told her, and then added, “I miss your body,” before I could stop myself.
“It misses you too.”
“So it’s okay if I come out there?” I asked again, just so my ego could hear her say yes.
“Of course,” she said, and I wished I could take her in my arms right then so she’d know just how much I’d missed her too.
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Cal, I’m so excited! When would you come?”
Ready for that question since I had already looked at my calendar, I said, “I was thinking two weeks from this weekend, if it works with your schedule.”
“Hold on. I’m checking,” she said as her laptop keys clicked in the background. “That works for me.”
“Good. Does from Friday to Sunday work for you?”
“Perfect.”
“And do I fly into LAX or somewhere else?”
“Yep. In and out of LAX is perfect too,” she said, and then practically yelled into my ear, “Cal!”