Mari’s nearness soothed him, and being able to hold her to him made him happier than he’d ever felt.
As small as her apartment was, there was no other place he’d rather be.
He felt free around her; possibilities seemed endless.
It felt as if the two of them could do anything.
He brushed his finger against her cheek.
How could he be growing so attached so quickly? Was it because she’d caught him at a particularly vulnerable time?
She didn’t really plan to kick him out sometime later today, did she?
He’d make sure she didn’t have time to think about it.
“I’ll make coffee,” she mumbled against his chest, and she started pulling away.
He reluctantly let her go.
He kept his eyes on her, planning to take in every inch of her bare skin, but she skillfully grabbed the top sheet off the bed as she got up and shielded her nude body from him.
“Oh, now you’re shy?” he teased, disappointed at being thwarted, but delighted at her modesty.
He watched her until she was out of sight, then buried his face in her pillow, breathing in deep as if it would help him keep part of her with him if she kicked him out after all.
Even if she decided she’d gotten all she wanted from him and was tired of harboring a stranger, he knew he wouldn’t let her get away so easily.
He’d pull out all the stops, use all the advantages he had to woo her to stay with him longer.
He heard her moving around the kitchen and waited.
Then he heard her enter the bathroom.
He took the sound of the shower turning on as his cue.
Damn her modesty—he was going to see all of her, dripping wet in broad daylight.
* * *
“Do you have anymore meetings and interviews today?” he asked as she finished getting ready.
He really wanted to ask how it was that she hadn’t had sex in years, yet had a condom at the ready.
“Um...not really. I pretty much dropped off all I had yesterday since I was pretty sure about that one job. Anyway, without you here, I suppose I would be researching more opportunities, getting ready for another drop-off day tomorrow.”
“I see. Well, I know it’s important to you, and I don’t want to belittle your efforts or desires by making another job offer—although the offer still stands, by the way—but would you mind taking the day completely off? I’d like to take you on a proper date, and I suppose we can start with breakfast…”
He rubbed his chin, thinking about the possibilities.
“No, no—I’m making breakfast, buddy. You have not lived until you’ve had one of my omelets.”
“Is that right? Well, what makes yours so special?”
“Oh, I’m definitely not telling you! Next thing you know, my secret recipe is being capitalized on, my intellectual property stolen…”
He raised his hands. “You’ve got me—I’m definitely always looking for opportunities to take advantage of other people’s ideas, abilities, and whatnot.” He paused. “You’ve got my job all wrong, you know.”
She just looked at him, as if uncomprehending.
“You’d be surprised how unexciting a lot of it is; I mean, we’re talking about finances here—investments, consulting. Okay, so it has its cutthroat moments, but it’s not exactly what I’ve always dreamed of doing. I’ve been trained to take over for years, so it’s pretty much by rote by now; therefore, I don’t feel unprepared to take the reins from my dad someday at all, it’s just—I’m not sure I want to.”
She turned fully to him, pausing her vegetable chopping.
“What is it you want to do?”
He shrugged. “For so long, there wasn’t even space to consider anything else. My skills seem to line up adequately enough for this world. I just...I think I want to be involved with people more.”
“Aren’t you quite involved? Financial consultants are all up in your business, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, but not like that; everything’s so cold and impersonal.”
“You’re strange. Most people would rather be in the position you’re in, you know—everything lined up easy peasy after graduation. Immediate job security, an unquestionable inheritance.” She shrugged. “Guess it’s like everything else; people want what they don’t have. Some with straight hair want curly hair and vice versa, some with excessive boobs would rather itty bitty titties and vice versa…”
Jim laughed, watching her throw various things into the egg mix.
“Don’t misunderstand me—I do get the privilege in this case. It’s just that I never had a chance to explore other options, that’s all.”
She pulled out cheese and started grating it.
“I’ll be honest—sounds to me like you just want a break and after that break, you’ll probably end up where you are now. I mean, you didn’t shout pilot or engineer or anything—you have no other passion or interest; you just hate to feel forced by your dad. You hate that he thinks he knows what’s best for you and it seems he didn’t allow other considerations, but ultimately, you’re probably where you belong.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Either way, it seems like you have some questions you want answered—issues that can be resolved in solitude and quiet reflection or on a crazy detour. You’ve been safe so long, maybe you need some adventure. Some change. Nothing wrong with that. Go ahead—take a leave and backpack through Europe to your heart’s content.”
He grinned at her.
“Only if you come with me.”
She smiled, averting her eyes.
“I don’t have the luxury of taking off that kind of time…”
“Obviously, I have the means to support you. Money is no object.”
“Yes, but what you don’t get is that if we were to hypothetically take off for a while, when you get back, you always have a place. I return with a gap in my resumé that hirers do not look favorably upon. I cannot operate off of the assumption that things will be fine and dandy between us; I have no safety net.
“Say we return and you decide you’ve had your fill of me—I am left at a severe disadvantage. It’s hard enough as a woman, and certainly as a black woman. So as lovely as vacationing for shiggles sounds, please don’t ask me to take some reckless leap of faith that it might take far too long to recover from. You can afford to do such a thing whenever you want. I can’t. Besides, I am perfectly happy with my chosen path.”
“Ah, yes—what is it you want to do again? What have all of your interviews had in common? What’s this particular field you’re trying to get into, Mari, that I can’t offer you a place in? You’re clearly not pursuing some artistic field, and obviously not admin work because I’ve offered that. What is your dream?”
She stayed silent, avoiding his eyes as she started cooking the omelets.
“You really don’t strike me as someone who’d travel all the way here without a proper plan, Maribel Gibson.”
“That’s fairly accurate. I decided to move here after I had a positive response to putting my feelers out. I was pretty much a shoe-in for this particular job…”
“Doing what?”
“Copyediting.”
“You came all this way to be a copy editor.”
“You must understand—copyediting here is different from copyediting in Alabama.”
“I don’t believe that’s all there is to it; it’s okay if you moved here just because it’s far more exciting. I understand wanting to break away from where you were. It’s just that I was sure there was more…”
“Sure there is—I want to find a way to help people. And I don’t mean anything super hands-on like physical therapy or nursing or something. Something less intimate. Listen, my mom’s an elementary school teacher, my dad’s a service technician for a cable company. My sister ran away with some guy. I’m pretty much the last…”
“Hope. I know, Mari. Look, I’m aware you think we co
uldn’t be more far apart, and in some ways, we are, but I get it; we have quite a few things in common too. We’re both under pressure to take the lead, we both have sisters...”
She rolled her eyes, dumping the first omelet onto a plate and pouring in the egg mix for the second.