Page 63 of Jilted Jock
She nodded, a pleased smile on her red painted lips.
“Actually, bring me two. No, three.”
Laughing, she rolled away on her skates. Yeah, roller skates. It was a little shot of nostalgia, not that I’d been alive in the fifties, but I’d seen Hilary Duff in that Cinderella movie as a kid, and Flo was a fiery version of that.
I stared across the street at the apartment building. People came and went every few minutes, but no sight of Adele or the boyfriend, I mean fiancé. Chance and the family had probably made it by now, too so I really had no business lurking around. I just needed a glimpse.
“Here you go.” Flo put the mug of coffee in front of me. “Creamer and sugar on the table.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip as it was and glanced out the window again.
I don’t know how long I looked out into the mostly dark street before the smell of cinnamon and sugar made my mouth water. Flo placed a plate with three giant cinnamon rolls in front of me.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Wet wipes and a second stomach.”
“I think you can handle it,” she said with a snort and rolled off to another table.
She was back about the time I was finishing the second and pushing the plate away. Flo slid into the booth across from me.
“Tell me, should I be concerned that you’ve done nothing but stare out the window to the apartment building across the street?” She lifted a dark brow and pursed her lips. “Are you some sort of international spy?”
“Do I look like an international spy?” I said as I sat back in the booth and rested an arm casually on the table.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met one. You look a little Bond meets Bourne.”
“I think you’re as likely to be a spy as I am,Flo.”
She tilted her head back and laughed. “I like you.” She stood and skated over to the counter, picked up a folded newspaper, and brought it back to the table. “Here. At least try to make it look like you’re a regular customer.”
I glanced around to the other patrons. The people who were alone all had something to occupy them. A woman with a Kindle, a guy with a laptop, another with a paper. I picked up the paper. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually read one. “Thanks.”
Unfolding and opening it, I bypassed local and world news for the Sports section. Then I flipped and stumbled upon a heading that made my heart skip a fucking beat.In Love with an Almost Married Man.
I kept reading. It was some sort of advice column.
Dear Ida,
I’m in love with my engaged coworker. We’ve been working together for almost a year and have become friends. We spend late nights at the office together, we even text about non-work-related things on the weekends. I think he might be interested in me too, but I’m afraid to make a move and ruin our friendship. Should I tell him how I feel before it’s too late?
The Other Woman
Ida’s advice was about what you’d expect. TLDR: don’t make a move and stuff those feelings deep inside. I didn’t like that answer. I considered writing Ida myself to let her know what I thought of her crappy advice. How could you expect someone to make a decision on forever without all the information?
But Ida wasn’t wrong either. I didn’t know if what I was doing here was the right move or not. I didn’t want to blow up Adele’s life, I just needed to see her. Though, she already knew how I felt, I needed her to confront me like the Ghost of Christmas Past.
I re-folded the paper and set it down on the table. I’d just picked up my coffee when I saw her. Actually, I saw Pixy first. A goat has a way of grabbing your attention when you see it anywhere other than a petting zoo or farm.
Chance, Aubrey, and CJ walked in front of her. Adele followed; arms crossed over her chest like she was cold. Her hair was longer, down around her shoulders. Dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, she looked comfortable, casual, and fucking sexy as hell. Living with her those two weeks I’d mostly seen her in work clothes – conservative dresses and skirts that looked too old for her – too stuffy and prim like she was playing dress up.
I’d come to love her yoga pants and tanks because I hadn’t felt like she hid behind them, but seeing her like this made me feel like I’d missed out, like I hadn’t been privy to every version of her.
I didn’t care which version I got – I wanted them all or whichever she’d give me. I just wanted her, but I was insanely jealous that I hadn’t seen this one before.
A cab pulled up at the curb and they all took turns hugging Adele before getting inside. When it was just her left on the sidewalk, I finally got to really see her. The smile on her face was genuine as she held her hand up to wave as the cab pulled away.
She turned to go back inside, and my gut twisted with my answer. She was happy here.
