“This sucks,” I tell him, deeply disappointed over the turn of events.
“It would suck worse to go through with all this in front of three hundred people, leaving everyone to wonder what you really stand for. The confusion alone could ruin the momentum you’ve gained in your business this year. Based on what I’ve learned, Bodhi’s business dealings may be on the up-and-up, but he’s going to eventually push the #MeToo envelope a little too far and implode. I’d rather you not be associated with him when he does.”
I’m touched by his serious concern, and some of my anger melts away. “You so get me.”
“I try, but sweetheart, I’m just a simple man. We never really get women. The best we can do is fake it.”
He takes out his phone and taps the face, then looks from the phone to the paper.
“What are you doing?”
“Comparing the events to my work schedule. Looks like I can make almost everything—three of the five group dinners, and I can trade a shift with Jeremy to make the cocktail event.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure everything that happened tonight sent a clear message. In fact, I don’t think we have to actively keep up this charade. He’s met you, seen us together. I’m sure he’ll back off.”
He lifts his head and studies me. “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you after we came out of the closet—no pun intended, but damn, it fits in all sorts of ways.”
My heartbeat skips. And dammit, that makes me angry. “How was he looking at me?”
His gaze goes distant and a moment lingers before he answers. “Petulant, determined… Hard to explain.”
My lungs release air I didn’t know I was holding, but I’m still not sure if that’s from relief or disappointment. “You have a habit of always assuming the worst.”
“That’s because I see the worst—on a daily basis. Besides, assuming the best didn’t work out so well where Bodhi was concerned, did it?”
“I wish you’d just be a dick or be nice,” I mutter. “This teeter-totter is annoying.”
I pile my books in the empty box Bodhi’s came in and stand to grab another, but Xavier stops me and brings it in himself. It’s a small gesture, but it’s sweet and so very Xavier. Even though I don’t exactly like the heavy-handed way he claimed me in front of Bodhi, I appreciate the sentiment behind it.
“How did you know his real name?” I ask. “I didn’t even know it.”
“Did some research,” he says, nonchalantly.
“Why?”
“I wanted to know what kind of bastard could make such a strong woman so afraid of men.”
“I’m not afraid of men.”
“Okay, afraid of getting involved.”
“That’s such a kettle thing for you to say.”
“I don’t have issues getting involved.”
“ You don’t get involved. You take women out for test drives.”
“Any time you want that to change,” he draws out the words lazily, “you just let me know.”
I’m not touching that comment. “If you’re done with the schedule, you can grab another box of books and start on the other side of the room. We can meet in the middle.”
His grin warms into the authentic one I know and love. “I like the sound of that.”
When he returns with the box and starts filling bags, he says, “So, Bodhi.”
Yeah, I knew this was coming.
“You’ve never really told me about your relationship,” he says. “He’s older than I expected.”