Page 66 of Finding Jack
ME: Well, I guess we tried. Bye.
JACK: Oh, well. Bye.
And I didn’t want the conversation to end that way.
“Emily?”
I shot up, blinking at Hailey who poked her head into my office. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, great. Just visualizing the week.”
She looked a little uncertain, but she stepped into the office holding her hands behind her back. “Excuse me for saying so, but you don’t seem all right in that underneath way, if that makes any sense. And I can’t say this would do it for me, but it seemed to make you happy that one time, so here you go.” She held her hands out to reveal a bag of Cheetos and a large cup of coffee.
It was the treat Jack had sent to my office all those weeks ago, only now instead of making me smile, it sent a hairline fracture through my already failing composure. I wasn’t sure what showed up on my face, but Hailey’s eyes widened. “Oops. Looks like I made a bad call. I’m sorry. I hope you feel better!” She backed out, treats still with her.
“No, stay.” I waved her over to my desk. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me since…” I touched the bag, and it crackled. “Well, since the last time someone did this for me. Thank you. I mean it.” I handed her my credit card. “I’m sorry I’ve been a crazy person this week. Go load yourself up with something from the café on me.”
She plucked the card from my fingers. “If you insist.”
“I’m ordering you to.”
“Bye, boss.”
I turned around to examine my superheroes on the window ledge. I bent forward and looked General Leia in the eye. “What am I supposed to do here? Give my life to the resistance? To resisting? What is my cause?”
I swear she rolled her eyes at me. I turned her to face out of the window but studied the rest of my action figures. All of them would have said, “You don’t need a man. But they make things more fun.” Except Jane Austen. Jane Austen would say to get the man.
Well, she would say to let the man come to me. And wasn’t that what Jack was doing?
Wasn’t he taking a step toward me by asking me to fill in that gap after “because…”?
I picked up Jane Austen and set her on the desk. Then I picked up my phone. It was time to give Jack an answer.
Chapter 25
I typed slowly, trying to pick my way through the words without hitting any landmines. “Hi. I pushed so hard because it matters to me to know. I don’t know why I feel like I want to know everything about you. But I do. So.”
I didn’t push send. I read and re-read the message. Did it say too much? Or not enough? All I knew for sure was that if forced to choose between sending it or presenting to the company board in my laundry day underwear, it would be a toss-up.
That was an overstatement. I’d definitely rather present in my ratty underwear.
Jane Austen fell flat on her face. I picked her up and steadied her. “I guess I know what you think about all this.”
I pushed send and bolted out of my office to do a million tasks that didnotinvolve thinking about how Jack would take my text. By the time Hailey came back, I’d done about another half of her jobs for the day. She shot me an exasperated look when she intercepted me going to make copies. I stepped around her and promised her another coffee run the next day.
I hadn’t heard back from Jack by the end of the day. I stopped at the gym on the way home and ran for miles on the treadmill. Still no message from him.
I took a long, scalding shower and checked my phone when I got out.
I blew my hair dry, flat ironed it, and filed my nails. And finally my phone dinged with a DM alert. I opened it.
Finally, a message from Jack. Avideomessage.
“Hi. I guess I have to say what I need to say in a minute or less.” His eyes darted toward the corner of his screen, and I knew he was watching the ring count down how much time he had left in his recording. “I figured since you sent me a video, it’s the least I could do to answer back in one.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, which I realized was hanging loose. I’d never seen him wear it down outside of his ridiculous Photoshops of himself. Instead of softening the hard lines of his cheekbones and jaw, the contrast made them stand out more. “The thing is, my hard things are the heavy kind that try to sink whoever is carrying them. I don’t want to do that to you. Because I like you. So much. So much that I won’t put this on you. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to…I don’t know, let my hair down, I guess.”
Right then, a hank of his hair fell forward over his eyes. He brushed it away and laughed. “Wow. I wasn’t trying to be literal. Anyway, sorry about all this. Just know I wish you all the good things. And also—”
