Page 41 of Crave
“At first, I thought,Shit, I might be bi?Bryn’s got thisFuck me, pleasething about her. Like, she’s too hot to not crave. But now, screwing her would be like incest.” She thumbed over at Alex beside her. “But Alex over here has had a crush on the boss from day one.”
Alex grimaced at Alana. “Have you been day drinking again or something?”
She glanced at Jamison, embarrassed. “I don’t day drink, and you know it.”
“Then stop talking like you’re smashed or something.” Alex leaned toward me, waving his hand. “That’s not true, Bryn. I’ve always had the utmost respect for you. Sure, you’re beautiful. Any guy with eyes can see that. But that’s it.” He looked back at Alana. “Plus, she’s down-to-earth. That’s her best quality besides being wise—too wise for a dope like me.”
Alana raised a finger. “I second that. I didn’t even know she was a Christmas until one of our clients mentioned it.” Then she patted Alex on the back. “And, dude, you’re not a dope. You’re soft but not a dope.”
Alex shook his hands in frustration. “You keep saying that. What in the hell does that mean?”
“I’m ready to hear that answer as well,” I said.
After setting her gaze on me, Jamison, and then Alex, Alana huffed. “He doesn’t go for the hard kill. He goes for the soft ones like Mia.”
Alana and Alex maintained firm eye contact for a few seconds, and then Alana clapped her hands. “What other things do we love about Bryn? Let me count them all.”
Alex cleared his throat as he readjusted in his seat. “She’s kind.”
I threw up my hands, my face warm with embarrassment. “Enough of the good stuff. Tell him the annoying stuff about me.”
Alana and Alex grinned at each other, and Jamison stretched an arm across the back of my chair. I felt so claimed by him, and it made my heart go pitter-patter.
Alana turned her head slightly to examine me. “You really want me to spill the soup?”
“Sure,” I said, waving my fingers in my direction. “Bring it.”
“Well…” She shifted her attention to Jamison. “She’s down-to-earth but way too down-to-earth. Take the last few days, for instance.” She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “All the misery of going to the airport and our flight being delayed and then canceled until further notice and shit. And then we had to wait for our checked luggage because they couldn’t hold it. And then we had to go back to the airport the next day and do the shit all over again, and by a nose, we were able to get a flight to Denver. All of that,” she said, gesturing emphatically, “could’ve been avoided if she would just partake in the family jewels.”
Jamison frowned, confused. “The family jewels?”
“She means the airplane,” Alex said.
I was surprised he’d said something. Usually, he was okay toughing it out. Their airport experience must have been horrendous.
“Duly noted,” I said and informed them that we would be using it for our vendor runs the following week.
They both expressed relief. Then the topic of conversation turned to airports and how miserable they could be and how the culture of each city was reflected in every terminal. We all laughed when Jamison remarked that the people in JFK often moved in their own world, like zombies, barely avoiding impact with each other.
Dinner was set before us. Alana and I had the buffalo chicken salad. Jamison and Alex ordered the steak with baked potato. We were on our second glass of wine when the conversation turned to all the politicians Jamison knew.
“Okay, I can tell you this—the president’s a farter,” Jamison said. We all erupted in laughter as Jamison waved his hand in front of his nose. “The guy’s worse than a skunk.”
Alana, Alex, and I were naming off politicians we knew, but Jamison wasn’t as forthcoming as he’d been about the president. I was certain he’d revealed the detail about the gas by accident. All the laughter, food, and wine made him let down his guard. After that, instead of dishing the dirt, he would rotate his hand to one side or the other and say, “Eh.” His tone would sound cheery if the person was good or dreary if the person wasn’t his favorite.
“Well, hey there,” said a jolly voice.
Everyone directed their attention to Eden, who was standing at the edge of our table, holding hands with Dale. She must have been wearing heels, because Dale was shorter than her, and that made me smile. The wine was making me revel in hisshortcomings.
