Page 89 of Finding Jack
Ranée came out dressed for the barn. “I’ll walk you down.”
He hefted the carrier and called another goodbye on his way out. I turned back to my laptop, but the screen had timed out and it seemed like a sign to take a short break. Stretch, walk, run in place. Move something besides my fingers.
I did some lunges across the living room to wake my sleepy muscles up and laughed when a seagull fluttered down to scavenge on our micro balcony. Of course a seagull would show up. Of course. “Good luck, buddy.”
I picked up my phone and read Jack’s last text again.I wanted it to be me with Sean. Maybe you did too. What do we do about that?
Sean seems to think you need rescuing,I texted him back.Do you?
He called almost right away. “Hi. I don’t need to be rescued. And if I did, it’s not your job.”
“That’s what I think too.”
“So ignore anything he said. I’ll kill him when he gets back. In the meantime, how’s it going otherwise?”
“I’ve been working like crazy for the last two days. We’ve got a huge deadline on Wednesday.”
“Are you going to make it?”
“If thirty hours of overtime this week can get it done, then yes.”
“Is that how much your team is putting in?”
“No. That’s just thirty by myself. The leads are all putting in that much too.”
“Wow. Is it always that busy?”
“No. But a couple of times a year, stuff comes up. This is one of those times.”
“I used to work a lot of weeks like that. It’s tough. How soon do you get a break?”
“I’m sure my boss will give us comp days if the update rolls out without any problems. And then I’ll sleep for forty-eight hours straight.”
“Come up here.”
The words burst out of him so fast I wasn’t sure his brain knew what his mouth had said yet. “Excuse me?”
There was a long silence, then I could hear him take a deep breath. “Come up here. On your comp days, I mean. It’s quiet. And pretty. And I want to see you.”
“Jack…”
“Just think about it.”
As if it hadn’t suddenly become the only thought in my brain. Go see Jack? I tried to clear my head of the only image it was interested in projecting: me sliding my hands up his shoulders while he leaned down for a—
I cleared my throat. “I don’t think that would be a friendly visit. Friendish. Friendlike?” I stopped talking before it turned into nervous chatter.
“No,” he said, his voice quiet. “It wouldn’t be.”
I bounced on the balls of my feet, glad he couldn’t see all the nervous energy suddenly spilling out of me. “It’s a moot point if I don’t meet this deadline.”
“Then I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Coming to Oregon, that’s borderline crazy.” I bounced faster.
“Think about it anyway.”
“Like I’m going to think about anything else now.”
