I wanted to shout about him from the rooftops. I wanted to tell someone about the flowers he sent to my apartment, the sweet things he said, the way he抎 tuck a blanket around me when we watched TV at night. Sometimes I thought I抎 burst with the desire to share just how good it was.
揑 hate keeping this a secret,?I told Kyle one afternoon, watching the dying sun land across his bare chest in stripes of muted gold.
His arm slid beneath my pillow as he pulled me closer, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead.
揘ext summer it will all be behind us,?he said. 揑抣l be divorced, you抣l be full-time, and no one will ever be able to imply you slept your way into a job.?
The funny thing is I never got the job and they wound up saying it anyway.
12
By the time Ben and I leave to catch our flight, I have a date lined up with a chef named Thomas. I picture him bringing me breakfast in bed, garnished with fresh herbs he抯 grown himself. I don抰 actually eat breakfast, nor do I lay around in the morning, but I see myself becoming someone who does both, eventually.
Thomas will probably need to teach me to slow down and enjoy my life before he starts up with all the cooking.
Ben is strangely tense on the way to the airport and agitated as we go through security. I lean over to remove my shoes and he makes an irritated noise, probably because he had pre-check and I did not.
揝orry for the extra two seconds this is taking,?I say, with my fakest smile, going more slowly than is necessary. 揑 did tell you to go through the pre-check line, though.?
揟ake all the time you want,?he replies. 揟here might be one man left here who hasn抰 looked down your shirt at this point.?
揑 just hope the one man was you.?
揢nfortunately for us both, it was not.?His voice is an irritated growl, but I spy a hint of a flush along his cheekbones. 揑 could see straight down your shirt half the ride here.?
I glance down the front of my blouse. My bra is La Perla梡ale peach, indecently sheer. I抦 not sure why the idea of him glimpsing it is more titillating than embarrassing. Maybe I just like how much it seems to bother him.
Our flight boards late, and once we抮e in our seats they announce the plane is grounded until the storm overhead has passed.
揝hit,?says Ben, looking at his watch.
揘ot going to make it back before your girlfriend抯 curfew??I ask.
He raises a brow. 揧ou抮e pretty mouthy for someone who appears to never date.?
揑 date,?I reply nonchalantly. 揑n fact, I have one tonight.?
揥ith who??he asks, as if what I抳e said is too incredible to be believed.
My patience starts to fray. His penis didn抰 seem to find me undatable a few hours ago, and the air has grown warm and way too humid in the stuffy plane. Anyone抯 patience would fray.
揑s it really so implausible that someone might want to take me out??I demand.
揑 never said it was implausible. I just wondered if it was, you know, a fully functioning individual. A human individual.?
I pinch my eyes shut and take a few quick breaths through my nose. My second shirt of the day is now sticking to me and I抦 officially miserable. If I respond, it抯 likely to be in a way that alarms the staff and gets me kicked off this flight.
揝o,?he says after a moment, when he realizes I抦 ignoring him, 搃t抯 not someone from work??
I roll my eyes. 揟he last thing in the world I want is to date another lawyer. I want the opposite.?
揥ouldn抰 the opposite be a criminal??
揌ardly.?I attempt to peel off my jacket. I don抰 know why the hell they had us all get on board if they knew we weren抰 going to leave.
揊ine,?he says. 揥hat抯 the opposite of a lawyer??
揂 guy in a Hallmark movie,?I reply, one arm now half trapped in my jacket sleeve. 揝omeone with an honest job. Someone rigorously ethical.?
He laughs. 揂h, rigorously ethical like you??
揑抦 ethical enough.?Yes, I抦 aware that by qualifying how ethical I am, I may have proven his point.
He sighs, helping me pull the jacket off before handing it to me. 揝o what does this guy do? Your date tonight??
I glance over at him. I imagine he抯 hoping to ridicule Thomas somehow. In this one instance, I抦 glad the guy does not own a Christmas tree farm. 揌e抯 a chef.?
揋uess you抣l be paying for dinner. Good thing you抮e so liberated.?
Heat, fatigue, frustration卼hey抮e rapidly eroding my ability to put up with this situation, and even more rapidly eroding my ability to be around Ben. 揕ots of chefs do really well, and I don抰 care how much he earns anyway.?
揝poken like someone who抯 never had a broke day in her life.?
揜ight,?I reply. 揑 forgot you抮e from the mean streets of Newport.?
He raises a brow, and his mouth curves upward, as if to say, Gemma, how do you know so much about me? It抯 a question I should probably be asking of myself.