Page 44 of Yule Know It When You See It
It could’ve been worse. So much worse.
“Thankfully, all of our clothes were still on, but hell, I pushed it with that stunt. Especially being the new guy. What if that would’ve been my boss?” Hearing Spencer’s sock-clad feet brushing the carpet, I lift my head.
“You’re detouring here.” Spencer wiggles a tumbler glass in front of my face. “What’s the real reason for the doom and gloom? Because you can easily start things up again in a more private setting if she was that ready for it in the first place.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I rub the glass over my forehead, wincing. “We were on a roll today. Got nearly the entire column done. Then she goes to the damn bathroom and comes back a completely different person.”
“Hm.” Spencer glances at the television where the Meteors are losing zero to five and promptly turns it off. “Did someone say something to her? Did she get a phone call with some bad news?”
“I have no idea.” I sip the drink—scotch it tastes like. “She wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t evenlookat me.”
Spencer’s finger taps against the bottle, and he rests it on his knee. “Strange. And where were you while she was in the bathroom?”
With that, Spencer goes into lawyer mode.
“I went to talk to Simone.” I take another sip, only this time it’s a hard swallow—one that holds the alcohol in my throat long enough to create a dull burn before going down the rest of the way.
“Care to elaborate there, slick?”
Cough sputtering, I notice Spencer’s mustache for the first time. “You look like that one villain from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show with that thing.” I point at his mouth.
“We can discuss my poor mustache-growing genes later, Ax. What were you talking to Simone about?” Spencer snaps his fingers at me, forcing me to focus on him.
“I proposed a different plan for the article. To give Theo full creative control with me still handling the legitimacy of anything hockey-related, and take me off the byline.” I shrug because this really doesn’t seem like a big deal to me when, in retrospect, it’s benefiting Theo most of all.
Spencer raises a finger. “Let me guess. You didn’t run this by Theo first? Assumed she’d be delighted about it?”
My eyes form such fierce slits Spencer becomes a blur. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Ah, my man. Not saying she wouldn’t, but you two are supposed to bepartners, and now you’ve gone behind her back even if itwerefor something positive.” Spencer hisses at his phone displaying the game’s final score: five to one. He reaches a hand over his shoulder and yanks the Meteors jersey off, throwing it in a slump in the space between us.
“Okay, let’s say you’re right. That doesn’t explain why she’d already be pissed about it. She doesn’t know I talked to her.” The skin below one eye twitches. “You don’t think she has telepathy, do you?”
Spencer chuckles and adjusts his wrinkled white undershirt now that the jersey is gone. “You are a stallion when casually dating women, but become a damn-right pony when youlikeone of them. Know that?”
Tilting my head back, I down the rest of my drink. “We were doing so well without analogies, Spence.”
“I don’t know, dude.” Spencer ruffles his hair. “Maybe a co-worker overheard part of your conversation with Simone and spilled the beans to her before you got back to your desk.”
Both Desiree and Rupert are loyal to a fault with Theo. It makes sense they would have her best interests at heart. But did my stance on it hold no value?
“Possibly,” I whisper. There’s no chance in hell of getting much sleep tonight.
“Tomorrow, come right out and ask her if that’s the issue and set the record straight. Sounds simple enough to me.”
“But what if that isn’t the problem? Then I need to deal with whatisthe problemanda new one once she finds out I didn’t consult with her first?” A dull ache forms between my eyes, and I rub my thumb there.
Spencer stands, holding out his hand for my empty glass. “You’re making this more complicated than it has to be. Ninety percent of the world’s problems are either miscommunication or lack thereof. I see it every time I walk into that courtroom, friend.” He takes my tumbler to the kitchen, the ice jangling against the sink as he dumps it.
“Thanks for listening to me whining,” I mumble, standing from the couch and stretching my arms skyward.
Spencer leans his hands on the couch’s back. “I know whining, and that wasn’t it. We all need help navigating life sometimes. And you’ll be there for me when I need it. Otherwise, I’d have told your sorry ass to figure it out.” Spencer smirks and punches my shoulder. “You wanna crash here tonight?”
Being somewhere else besides home may help keep my thoughts at a simmer versus a full boil. Either way, it’s worth a shot.
“You mind? I’ll dip out early to shower and change for work at home.”
Spencer pats the couch. “Don’t mind at all. Let me grab you a pillow.
