I almost made myself stop at that scene. Because the story has taken on a different quality. Still erotic, but…more than that.
I read and read, and read some more, sometimes with my pants getting tighter but toward the end with my jaw getting first tighter, then slack. When I get to the end of chapter nine, I have to pace the room for a while to calm myself.
Because the Austin Smut file has turned into a love story. And it’s sitting there unfinished.
And I’m sitting here without her.
I text message her.
Don’t worry about coming tomorrow for work. Take care of your father. I can manage here for the weekend. But I want to see you. Give me your father’s address and tell me when it’s a good time to come over. If you need anything, I’ll pick it up on my way.
It’s late, after midnight, but I give no fucks. After reading all I’ve just read, I need to see Jada. It’s taking everything in me – only because she’s taking care of her ill father - to not track her down and go to her right fucking now.
She writes back ten minutes later, and I realize the error of my play.
Jada: That’s really not a good idea. If you need to see me, I’ll come there. Unless you can just tell me in a text what this is about.
Me: What time tomorrow, Jada? What’s the address?
My phone rings.
Jada calling.
“Hey.”
“You don’t need to come here, Austin. I’ll just make sure I’m there at five thirty or six or whenever you’ll be back and then you can talk to me then. Unless you just wanna say whatever it is now.”
“You don’t need to come here tomorrow, Jada. I’ll come see you.”
“Are you firing me?”
“No,” I say. “Absolutely not. You think I’m that much of a dick I’d fire you because you’ve got shit happening in your life?”
She doesn’t answer.
I lean back against her headboard and feel that for a second.
“I’m not that much of a dick, sweetheart.”
“I can’t play any more games with you,” she says.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I can’t… I can’t see you to play one of the games…the Groucho Sweetheart games, Austin. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Why?” I ask, like a jerk instead of telling her the truth – that the games we play aren’t why I want to see her.
“Let’s just say it’s not a great idea.”
“Let’s just say it’s not a great idea? How about you explain why? Why isn’t it a great idea?”
“Don’t make me answer that. I can’t…”
I hear her swallow hard, “I have too much going on right now, Austin, and I can’t pretend. It’s just not in me.”
“What if I don’t want you to pretend about anything?” I ask, feeling my heartrate pick up.
She holds the phone.
“Can’t do this on the phone, Jada. I wanna see you.”
“Austin, my father’s here at risk of killing himself because he’s not looking after himself and doesn’t want me here and my brother’s in a hospital because he’s trying to actually kill himself, and I’m not allowed to be there, and I just can’t do this right now. Or at all. You told me your life was complicated but won’t talk about it and well, mine is too but I’ve just spelled it all out to you, so now… the best thing I can do for my own sanity is to just do what I need to do to get through each day until you go home to California. Keep our distance. Keep things professional. Okay?”
“No.”
“Austin, I can’t pretend and I don’t want you to pretend just because you feel bad for me, so I have to go. Thanks for saying I don’t have to come over tomorrow, I could really use a day here to clean this pigsty. Please don’t fire me. I’ll be there Monday, doing whatever needs to be done.”
“Listen to me for a second…”
She keeps talking, “I really need this job and I’ll do it; I’ll keep your brother’s condo clean and stocked with food and dealing with your dry cleaning and whatever other errands you have and I’ll be there Monday, okay?”
“Jada, what’s the address? I’m coming there now. I need to-”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go. It’s just the job now, Austin. That’s all I can do. Bye.”
She hangs up before I can say anything else.
***
Monday
She’s been here today. The fridge is stocked with food and there are labeled containers in the freezer. She’s done a whack of cooking, probably at her father’s house, and dropped it all off, with six containers covering me for the next three days with lunch and dinner plus added milk, juice, and some smoothie stuff to the fridge. Every container has a sticker with purple marker and neat handwriting describing the contents, with today’s date in the corner. There are also four packs of pudding in the fridge.