Page 20 of Every Broken Piece
“You’re annoying.” But she says it with a twinkle in her bloodshot eyes.
“You’re more annoying.”
“Come on, Tess.” Her voice rises in a whine.
“No.”
“Stop being ridiculous.” She pauses. “Unless...” She swings her barstool around to face me. “Unless you’re in love with someone else. It’s GS isn’t it? You’re secretly having an affair.”
“Will you please stop? I’m not having a secret affair with my client. I’ve never even met the guy.” He sent his brother to ourvideo conference. If that doesn’t tell me all I need to know, I don’t know what does.
Except he texted me last night. And he seemed concerned.
Stop it, Tess. It means nothing.
Amelia stands to takes her empty plate to the sink. She seems much better now that she’s had coffee and a hearty breakfast.
“I should go,” she says. “What’re you doing tonight?”
“I have a hot date with my book.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles, knowing one night out was way more than enough for me. That’s the thing about Amelia. She gets me. She knows when I need my quiet time, and she knows when to push me out the door.
She disappears into my bathroom and emerges with a clean face, brushed hair, and her shoes on. “I’m going home to take a long nap.” She kisses my cheek and heads for the front door. “Thanks for coming out with us last night, bestie.” Then she’s gone and while I love her to death and would do almost anything for her—stopping short of dating any man she recommends—I’m glad for the quiet of my apartment.
Last night was fun, but tiring, and I’m ready for some quality time with my book, my favorite blanket, and my couch.
I take a quick shower and pull on my favorite leggings, long sleeve t-shirt, and fuzzy socks, grab my book, and head for my couch. But first I glance at my work phone. I don’t normally check it on the weekends because a girl has to have some down time, but Gabe’s texts last night have me curious.
I’m actually surprised to see a text from him that came in over two hours ago.
GS: Did you make it home okay?
What’s with the sudden interest in my safety? I don’t hate it. It’s nice to have someone worried about me, but it’s also weird.
Me: I did. Thank you for checking in. How did your meeting go yesterday?
I’ve asked him that in the past and I’ve always received a “good” or “fine”. Right away I got the impression it wasn’t my place to ask. If we worked in the same building we’d have the sort of relationship that would encourage a back-and-forth conversation, but we don’t work together that way so I stopped asking.
GS: Not good. Going to have to deliver some bad news on Monday. I’m glad you made it home safe and sound
I stare at my phone screen for a long time. Part of me wants to ask who this is and what they did with my client because this can’t be him texting. Did his brother, Jack, steal his phone? I’m so confused.
Me: I’m sorry it didn’t go well.
I’m curious as to what this bad news is but won’t ask because its none of my business. I don’t know a whole lot about his job, other than he tries to fix failing companies and is considered to have the golden touch in turning companies around. Maybe he has a client that’s unfixable. That would suck to have to tell an owner that his company’s beyond saving. News like that will affect all the employees.
GS: Me too. Did you have fun with your friends last night?
Okay. What in the hell is going on? Who is this man, because he’s certainly not the Gabriel Strong I’ve come to know over thelast several months. However, I’m curious as to how far I can take this exchange.
Me: I did. We bar hopped then my friend, Amelia, and I Ubered home. I don’t usually like to go to bars, but I’m forcing myself to be more social
I hit send, now wondering what the hell I’m doing by sharing so much information. I don’t have to wait long for his response. I can almost picture him sitting all alone in his hotel room, watching his phone for my answers. Surely Gabriel Strong has more important things to do than talk about my uneventful night out.
GS: Why don’t you like to go to bars? (Not that I’m encouraging you to)
Me: I’m the definition of an introvert. I like my quiet apartment. But Amelia thinks I need to get out more and I can’t disagree. It’s not healthy hiding away from the world.
