Page 3 of Truth
“I’ll never tell. I’m sure you can handle yourself, but that’s my job—I mean, now that we’re dating and all.” He shrugs, his eyes lit with humor. Man, he’s a charmer.
“What?” Laughing, I shake my head wondering how to even respond.
The bartender walks up, and Nick orders himself a gin and tonic and me a Chardonnay.
“White wine, is that what I want? Are you always this much of a bulldozer?”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you why. It’s my favorite wine, and later when we kiss, I’ll be able to taste it on your lips. Plus, you’re a lady; you should let me treat you like one.”
I’m speechless. This guy has red flags all over him, but I accept the wine because I can’t help wanting him to taste it off my lips too. Lust is a very good negotiator.
One Week Later
“Has he called you? It’s been exactly a week since you met him, so I want some news, Drew.” Demanding as always, Gretchen takes a big bite of her salad. This is our daily ritual most of the week—we order in to my office and catch up on our days—but this week has been a bear. I’m trying to get settled into my new position and feel like I’m in high school waiting for the popular boy to call me again. So, I’ve been mostly eating while working and going straight home to sleep.
“Yes.” I shoot my hand out to stop her from attacking me with questions. “But before you go crazy, you should know that I told him during our only conversation I wasn’t the kind of girl that was DTR. I want to take things slow, Gretch. He seems great, but I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“DTR? Define the relationship?” Her eyebrows raise, the humor apparent in her face.
“Oh shit, wait, I meant DTF. See what happens when I try and be cool.” Rolling my eyes, I grab my pizza for another bite.
“Oh my god! Drew, you basically said you wanted to keep it loose. Now he’s really going to think you are down to fuck, and by the way, nobody grown-up says that.” She can’t help but laugh at me while I shrug.
“Whatever. I saw it on a Netflix show. I thought it was back in.”
“You know what? You should fuck him.”
My eyes jump to her face with surprise. “Slow down, I barely know him. He seems great, but we’ve had one really nice conversation, and he hasn’t called since.” Reaching over my desk, I grab a napkin and blot the grease from the top of my pizza.
“You’re a thirty-one-year-old executive with no life that devotes herself to this, albeit rad, office. Get laid, Drew. I feel like it was invented for people like you.”
I toss my napkin at her, and she gives me a hard stare, mumbling something about silk as she pushes the napkin off her lap.
“Why does your compliment feel like an insult?”
“Because it was. Listen, I love you the mostest, but you don’t have a life!”
Putting my head in my hands, I look down at my desk and wonder if I’ve let it go too far, my drive toward ambition. I’ve been so focused on getting ahead, I forgot to have a life.It’s all about balance.My mother’s voice in my head reminds me of the day she signed the divorce papers from my father. She left him because he put everything before her, his career always coming first. I don’t want to end up like my dad. He’s alone and repentant, and she’ll never take him back.
“I know, you’re right, but I’m not a total loss yet. I have a little bit of a life. I went to yoga just yesterday with that girl. The one that works on the floor below.”
Pushing her lips together, Gretchen folds her hands in her lap, as if she can barely stand my denial. Her reaction to my lie makes me grin through another bite of pizza.
“You don’t even know her name, and just because she was there at the same time doesn’t constitute a life and friends. Don’t play. Call Nick; break out of dork jail.”
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes at her.
Gretchen wipes her mouth, looking at her phone. “Get laid, love you. I gotta jet, I have a meeting in ten. Lunch tomorrow? Your office?” She motions to her stuff, letting me know she’s leaving it where it lies as she gets up and heads to the door.
“Yes, I’ll be here…you know, since I’m a fucking loser.”
Heading out, she throws a kiss my way. “Great.”
I smile because she’s a madwoman. She’s right. I do need a life outside of my job. Looking down at my cell on my desk, I spin it around, narrowing my eyes.Should I?The butterflies flip in my stomach as I turn the phone over and swipe to open. Pulling up the contacts, I hover my finger over Nick’s name.Oh man, when did I become such a wuss. Get it together, Drew.I type quickly before I can reconsider.
Me: Hey Nick, plans tonight?
I immediately turn the screen over because I will not agonize over the bubbles. It’s torture. He will text back when he has the time. It’s a good text, casual, flirty…yeah, I’m good. I can just go about my day and check in an hour or so. Tapping my fingers on my desk, I start to gnaw on my bottom lip. Who am I kidding—I need to see if he sees it. Flipping it back over, the message materializes at the same time.
