It's Never Easy - Boudreaux Universe

“Just telling it like it is.” He winks, and I roll my eyes, which has Kate giggling as she watches us throw banter back and forth.

“Okay, girls,” she says finally, pushing to her feet. “Let’s eat, and then we can talk about how Julian is going to make Nea fall in love with him,” she teases, and I can’t help but groan. They’re not going to give it a rest until I’ve asked Nea to dinner. Perhaps it’s not a bad idea. She’s pretty, nothing like the women I usually go for, but there’s nothing wrong with being different. Even though I was frustrated at her ink and perfume which, if I had to be honest with myself, was only because the scent captured my attention and held me hostage.

As dinner passes by and we chat amongst ourselves, I realize the more I see how Kate and Eli are together, the more I want that. A relationship on equal footing, the smiles and the banter, but more so, the companionship that comes with it. Having someone there for you when you need is what I’ve been missing, and as I watch my friends, I know I have to take a chance on this.

“Thank you for dinner,” I tell them both as I say my goodbyes. It’s almost midnight, and I’ve enjoyed the evening, but I need some alone time to think about the best way to go about asking out Nea.

“It was good having you, man,” Eli says, slapping me on the shoulder.

“Thank you for spending time with us.” Kate pulls me in for a hug, and I can’t help but feel thankful I have good friends who look out for me.

As I make my way home, my mind is spinning with possibilities on what would happen if Nea says no, and also, if she says yes. I don’t know how I’d feel if she says yes, but I do know that if she refuses, I’d feel disappointed.

And that doesn’t sit well with me.Chapter 10NeaI haven’t seen Julian all day. He’s been holed up in the studio and told me to focus on the upcoming event. I don’t know why he keeps me around when I’m clearly frustrating him. Even though he says he needs the help, I have a feeling he doesn’t like people in his space.

Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind of the curiosity that’s currently burning through my mind and open my emails. We have the caterer booked, as well as the menu of hors d’oeuvres that are meant to be served. I’ve chosen the champagne, ensuring that it’s been signed off by Julian. Now all I need to do is go through the RSVPs and send out a thank you note to those who are attending.

When I look at the clock again, I notice its already lunchtime. I’ve gotten lost on the internet looking at expensive furnishings for various events we can run, and the excitement of that’s got me on my feet and racing to the kitchen.

But when I walk into the room, it’s empty. I wanted to tell Julian about what I found, but he’s still locked up in his studio, which means I probably won’t see him until tomorrow morning again.

I make my lunch, a sandwich with some salad leaves, tomato, and mozzarella, which I cut into triangles before grabbing my mug of fresh brew. Heading out onto the porch, I set my coffee and plate down on the small whitewashed table that sits beside the bench.

I take a moment to appreciate where I am. That I’m employed, and that I’m actually enjoying what I’m doing, even if my boss is a pain in the ass. The moment the thought passes, I hear his heavy boots clomping on the floor as he joins me outside.

He’s carrying his own mug, and I wonder if it’s coffee in there or something else. On the morning of my interview, he was clearly hungover. I wondered if he had a problem, but since then, I haven’t noticed it again. He doesn’t look at me but stands with his attention focused on the garden. I want to say something, but the moment he’s near me, my nerves attack.

“I’ve been checking up on the emails,” he says the moment I bite into my sandwich. He glances at me from over his shoulder when I don’t respond, and the corner of his mouth ticks with amusement.

When I swallow the bite, I narrow my eyes as I watch his expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” Julian chuckles, sipping his drink and turning his attention back to the garden.

“Okay, well, if you’re not going to tell me why you’re laughing at my lunch, can you tell me about the emails?” I challenge him, finishing off another triangle of bread before he moves toward me, settling on the bench.