Page 77 of Ambiguous
Jules continues, “I know it’s been a decade since I’ve had a real job—thank you, Tesco—but I understand what it’s like to have to please other people. And also how getting to the top doesn’t feel quite like what you thought it would feel like when you were on the way up.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “It’s bait and switch. I expected to wear a suit and participate in reasoned debate and intellectual conversations on cutting-edge subjects. Instead, I spend my days listening to my boss swear about how our clients aren’t paying him enough. Even though we just jacked up our rates. Again.” I rub my hand over my face. “Sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”
“Sam.” His voice gets this sexy sternness to it. “If we’re going to have a relationship, I want to know everything. You can complain. Let me know how you truly feel. I’ll try to help if that’s what you want, and I’ll listen if that’s what you want.”
“You’re so nice.”
“It’s my pleasure.” A pause. “Is there something you want me to do about your job?”
“Just distract me from it.”
“I can do that.”
I shift in my chair, my voice dropping. “You areverygood at that.”
“So, perhaps, let’s go do something. Like, um, mini golf.”
I snort. “What?”
“There’s a course and arcade a ways up from my house. Let’s go.”
“You want to play miniature golf.” I shake my head.
“Yes.”
How can one word sound so alluring?
“With me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I look around to see if I’m being pranked, but Jules’s voice is so sincere, I know I’m not. “Do you have a fear of golfing?”
“Uh, no.”
“How does this fit on your ‘facing your fears’ album?”
“It doesn’t.” His smooth, confident voice makes me feel all kinds of anticipation. “But I could make it relate. Maybe I want to scope out locations for a video.”
He’s asking me out on a date. With no pretense of it being related to the album.
“Okay,” I say. Because there’s nothing else I can say.
A laugh bubbles out of him and across the phone speaker. “You will?” Then he coughs. “Excellent.”
“Will it be a time when it’s closed, again?” I click on my calendar.
“Yes. A weeknight. Will that be okay for you?”
If I have to miss yoga, I will. “I’ll make it work.”
“Wonderful. See you then.”
“Oh, and Jules?”
“Yes?”
“How’s the album coming?” I should ask, for work. And Iwantto know, for… not work.
