Page 25 of The Hooker

“But you already signed the form!”

He draws back at my hard tone. “I did. I didn’t want either of us to get in trouble and wanted to discuss it with Linda so we can explore our relationship without the threat of losing our jobs hanging over us.”

“What if I don’t want a relationship? We weren’t even in a relationship when you signed it. We aren’t in one now. What if they decide to take me to the disciplinary board because they think something happened?” I can’t stop the words flying out of me, and I hardly know what I’m saying.

All I can focus on is that he made a decision involving my job without me. He took that choice from me. It doesn’t matter that I would have signed the form too. He signed it behind my back without a discussion first. Didn’t discuss what we’d do about my licence, and whether or not we tell them about the bad choices I made in my hotel room.

“We aren’t? You don’t want one?” Jamie crosses his arms and the hurt in his voice finally penetrates the haze of worry and anger.

“Of course I want a relationship with you, Jamie.” And I do. He’s been my closest friend for years. I just didn’t realise it was something more until recently. It is the most natural thing in the world kissing him, talking to him. Being with him. “But why did you sign anything without me there? Without talking to me?”

“Because I was telling them about my change of feelings, not yours. I didn’t mention anything about you, Daisy, besides the fact I want to be with you and want the chance to have that, so requested a shift to Adam’s roster.” Jamie scrubs a hand through his hair and sighs sharply. “You still need to sign something if the feelings are returned. At the moment, they have a record of me declaring I want a relationship and removing myself from the situation before any power imbalance can enter it. Or issues with code of conduct.” He sighs again and glances at his villa. “Look, let’s go inside, order food, and talk some more.”

I shake my head quickly. “No. No, I—I want to think and need some space.”

“Daisy—”

“Jamie, please. Just let me think.” My limbs are shaky, and I feel weak, like I could barely hold a glass of water, but I squeeze his hand fleetingly. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.” He opens the door and the chilly night air invades the car, and I shiver. Jamie turns back to me. “I promise I didn’t do it to ruin your job or go behind your back. I wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to either of us. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner or speak to you before I signed it.”

I nod and blow out a breath. I clench my shaking hands on the wheel. “Okay. I’ll text you.”

Jamie nods and gets out of the car, snags his bags from the boot, passes his roses, and gives me a small wave before he enters his villa and flicks the lights on. He doesn’t hold his fist out for me to bump before he leaves and for some reason it causes my throat to tighten, making it difficult to breathe.

I pull out of his driveway and park in my garage. I drop my head to the wheel and dig my nails into my palms.

The worst part is, he’s not wrong.

We do need to sign stuff with management to make sure everything’s fine, but I was under the impression we’d have a discussion about it first. Talk about what we want and if it’s long term, because if it isn’t there’s no point in getting anyone involved, and we can stay friends instead.

I want it to be long term. Want to be there when he retires, to move in with him, and maybe adopt a dog together.

I finally enter the house, and my shoulders slump when no skittering claws come to greet me. It’s too late to pick up Westley, so I won’t see him until tomorrow. My house feels empty. No Westley. No Jamie.

Only my stupid thoughts to keep me company, going around in my head and questioning if I overreacted. It’s not signing the form I have an issue with, it’s the lack of discussion. What if they took it badly and I lost my job and my licence? I thought we’d talk and figure out how to approach management without implicating anyone.

But I suppose if he doesn’t know how I feel, he wouldn’t want to involve me. But why would he want to sign the form if he doesn’t know how I feel? There would be no need to sign anything. Unless he doesn’t want to be friends anymore if I don’t feel the same? But that’s not like Jamie.

It was strange this past week, not treating him without knowing why with odd looks from Adam to make it worse. I groan and collapse on the couch. Linda must have told Adam why Jamie wanted to be on his roster. Adam knows about us, or at least about Jamie’s feelings, and that’s why he kept shooting me smug looks.

I guess it was naïve to expect no ribbing or gossip when it got out that Jamie and I are…whatever we are. Dating? I think? Still friends, at least. Probably.

I change into pyjamas and tug the covers over me, too tired to shower the plane off me, let alone wash my hair. I’ll wash the sheets tomorrow and face the shower and conversation later.

* * *

My day off passes in a blur of visiting family, showering Westley with love, and buying groceries so I don’t starve. A day after our argument, Jamie texts me about a new show he’s watching that he thinks I’ll enjoy. I click on the show and settle in to watch the first episode. And he’s right. I do like it. And I’m reminded that heknowsme. He gets me.

Even though he didn’t talk to me before discussing us with Linda, usually we’re on the same wavelength.

I chew on my cheek and grab my phone to text him back and the night passes with messages back and forth with Jamie, who’s only a few doors away from me, and I have to stop myself from walking down the road and knocking on his door.

Work the next day is slow without the boys around, filled with meetings and treatment plans to prepare for our last game with Australia. It’s a lonely drive without Jamie. I miss him. I’ve never missed him before and I realise it’s because we’ve never really been apart, not that two days without seeing each other is apart, but I feel the distance in the heaviness in my chest.

But I’m still angry at him. I can spend time with him and be angry. Right?

I know exactly what my decision will be as soon as I’ve sorted my thoughts out and it involves him being in my life. I’m just not ready to talk about it yet.

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