“What’s going on, Frank?”
He doesn’t sit. Instead, he wears a path on the carpeted floor as he paces from one side to the other.
“Hey, sit. You’re making me dizzy with your stress walking.” Frank turns to me, his crooked nose more visible from his standing position and my sitting one. He’s a big guy, a mixture of muscle and too many donuts.
“All right, Rose, I’m just going to say it outright.” I reel in the urge to roll my eyes at his overly dramatic display of urgency. Just spit it out, dude.
“I feel like there’s a connection. A very deep one.” He stops pacing, his hands on his wide hips and his black eyes staring intently at me. His Brooklyn accent is even more prominent than usual.
“A connection? You mean Brandy and the politician? Don’t worry about it, I’ll call her in today and have a chat with her.” Crossing one leg over the other, I lean my elbows on the desk and notice he’s still wound up.
“No, not Brandy. That’s not what—”
“There’s another girl getting personally involved with a client? Shit, feelings are spreading like a virus around here.” It’s meant to be a joke, a way to calm him down. I didn’t realize he was so invested in this business. That said, he’s been with Polly for so long, I’m guessing when work runs smoothly, so does his life.
“No, it’s not like that.” He’s getting agitated and it’s making me impatient.
“Just say it, Frank. I’ve got a lot on my plate today.”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ noticed.” Every hair on my body stands upright at the tone of his voice.
“Excuse me?” I’m now on high alert, my muscles tense and ready for a fight.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… okay. I’ll just say it.”
“Fucking finally.” I murmur low enough that I hope he doesn’t hear me.
“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” There’s a beat—more like several—where the entire office, the building, maybe the whole of New York City, goes completely silent. I know we’re both breathing since no one is choking, but I can’t for the life of me hear it or feel it.
A million questions run through my brain, starting with his loyalty to Polly and ending with his age that’s closer to my parents’ than mine.
Not to mention that I’m just not attracted to him on any level. But as a woman, I am constantly aware of the dynamics between myself and any man in the room. His physical strength, his emotional state, his threat level.
Right now, I’m on high alert because Frank’s obvious stress is not reassuring me.
“Erm, I’m incredibly flattered.” By flattered, I mean freaked out. “And any girl would be honored to be your date, but I don’t think that’s a great idea.” What I want to say is, “Sorry, bud, but I’m just not into you like that.” Except, I have no idea how he would react to the truth. My only option is to stroke his ego a little so he doesn’t expect me to stroke anything else of his.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He’s now standing a little taller, which means I need to be very careful with how I answer him. Egos are a tricky thing in the male species.
“Because we work together. It’s never good to mix business and pleasure.” I grace him with what I’m hoping is a placating smile.
“Right but you’re only here for a little while. It’s not like you’re an actual employee.” Fuck.
“Look, Frank. You’re a great guy but I’m not in a place in my life that allows me to be dating seriously.” I mean, it’s definitely the truth. Nathaniel is giving me the space I need to decide what I really want in my life. Nathaniel is perfect. He’s caring and attentive, but I’m afraid he’s lost hope for us. Or maybe he’s just giving me the space he thinks I need. In fact, I haven’t even seen him at the grocery store. I made it a point to go at his usual times but I still haven’t “run into” him.
Maybe he’s truly done with me.
As I map out all of the different scenarios, the only thing I’m truly certain about is that I’d like to change paths. I’d like to actually have a job that I can brag about. Something legit. Something that makes a difference. Most of all, I’d like to share that part of my world with the man I love.
All I need to figure out now is, who exactly do I love? Who do I want by my side for the rest of my life?
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” There goes that temper of his again, his accent coming back in force.
“To be honest, that attitude is exactly the reason I’m not keen on having dinner or lunch or fucking breakfast with you. Is that clear?”
Deflating just a little bit, Frank’s shoulders hunch and his brows furrow like he’s trying to figure out the mathematical formula for the theory of relativity.
“But you have time for Nathaniel Reed?”