“She's just . . . Well, she's beautiful for one thing, although not in a way that you'd call conventional.”
“I’m not sure how to interpret that, based on what I've observed in your taste in women.”
“Well, she's also highly intelligent, madly driven, ambitious, fiercely independent, and radically creative. She's got an absolutely fantastic mind. She pretty much single-handedly turned around a failing campaign we were working on, and made it a raging success in less than two weeks.”
“I thought only you were capable of such things.”
“I thought so, too—but she seems to have a spark of genius in her.”
“Now step back a second there. You said, 'We were working on.’ You working with this girl?”
“She's one of my personal staff members, yes.”
Bryce sipped slowly on his beer and shook his head. “Hmm, well, now. Listen soldier, you ever heard the saying about not shitting where you eat?”
I sighed. “I know, I know. But there’s just something about her. She's different, Bryce. I can't pinpoint the specifics about it beyond what I've already told you. I've just come back from her place and—”
“Oh really, cowboy?” he interrupted with a wink and a smile.
“No, no, it wasn't like that. Hell, nothing at all happened—except, that everything happened.”
He swigged on his beer before responding. “Okay, now you’re just not making sense.”
“I spilled my guts, man. I told her all of my family stuff, stuff that I haven't told anyone before. I spilled the beans like a cheerleader in the locker room.”
“I see.” He nodded slowly, and his face took on a more serious expression. “Well, maybe there's something there worth pursuing, then. But, here's the kicker, kid: does she feel the same way about you?”
I picked up a straw from the table and stirred it absentmindedly in my beer. “That's the thing that's had me confused as hell, Bryce. I don't know.”
“And that's particularly tough for you, isn't it? I mean, I've known you all these years, kid, and you're always the one who's in charge, who's in control. You’ve always been the one who had the women under your thumb. You’re used to being the one to take charge, go after what you want and get it. Everything has always been on your terms for as long as I've known you. Hell, you've even got me under your thumb—even though we go with the illusion that I'm in charge, for the sake of your training. I know where my paychecks come from,” Bryce grinned.
“I know you're right. But you do know I don't just consider you an employee—I consider you a friend above all else.”
He smiled and clinked his beer against mine. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“And to prove that, here I am talking to you about, of all things, feelings on a Saturday night. Bet you didn't see this coming!”
He laughed out loud. “I certainly didn't! But hell, every guy goes through this at some stage of his life. I sure as hell did.”
“And, what came out of it?”
“Twenty-three years and counting of marriage to the best damn woman I've ever met.”
I nodded. “When did you know? That she was the one, that is?”
“First damn second I laid eyes on her. I dunno how I knew, I just did. Like a soldier I fought with in Desert Storm once told me: 'I know I ain't coming back alive from this mission. I can feel it in my bones.' And, sure enough, he didn't come back. Sometimes, you just know things in your bones.”
I sipped slowly on my beer, not saying a word.
“So that, ultimately, is the question you gotta ask yourself, Sinclair. Do you know it in your bones? Your feelings for this girl—do you merely imagine them—or do you know them?”
I drank another sip and then responded.
“To be honest, Bryce, the answer to that is what scares me.”
***
I waited at the head of the boardroom table, tapping my fingers impatiently on the desk as I waited for people to file in. I'd been in an unexplainable mood since Saturday night, and no amount of work or exercise had been effective at shaking it. So, there I stood, knowing it had carried over into Monday.