Page 48 of Falling Slowly
I rolled onto my side and after a moment, she did the same, propping her elbow against the bed. Face to face. I felt her warm breath mixing with mine. Her cheeks turned the cutest shade of pink. “Oh, Charlie.”
“Come on. Tell me.”
“No. That’s what I say to myself at work, ‘Oh, Charlie’.”
“Oh, Charlie,” I repeated like a moron. “What does that mean?”
“It’s my way of making sense of you. Your toys. Your life. It’s so foreign, and I don’t want to feel the jealousy or resentment. So, I say to myself, ‘Oh, Charlie!’”
The way she breathed out the words sounded almost like a term of endearment. “You say it like I’m a child.”
She frowned. “I don’t think of you as a child. More like a phenomenon. Something wondrous I can’t begin to understand.”
“Like… ghosts and goblins? Or astrophysics?”
“Yeah. Like a faraway galaxy.” She smiled.
“You’re shitting me, right? No way you think of me like that.”
Her breath came out in short gasps. “Oh, Charlie. I think of you way too much.”
I brushed my thumb down her warm cheek, enjoying the fragile feeling blooming somewhere in my chest, overshadowing my earlier arousal. She was here, opening up to me. Allowing me to see her. “Bess. I don’t deserve you. You know how much I appreciate you, right? You know how amazing I think you are.”
Her mouth twitched. “I always thought you were exaggerating when you praised my work. You’re the real star. You’re the creative.”
I frowned. Exaggerating? If anything, I’d been trying to keep my silly work crush under wraps. Stay professional. “Bess, I couldn’t do what I do without you.”
“I thought you were just saying it. You know, like celebrities tell their fans ‘you’re the real stars!’”
“You think I’m that shallow?” I swallowed my hurt.
Her eyes softened. “It’s not that you’ve ever been shallow, but I’ve been cynical. Some things you say are so over-the-top I didn’t think you could possibly mean them.”
There was so much more I wanted to say that my gut churned. Maybe I was over-the-top, but I wasn’t fake.
“I’m an idiot, but I mean what I say. I don’t talk about people behind their back, either. It’s not right.”
She sighed. “Then you’re a better person than any of us.”
“I’m really not,” I answered quickly. But her words kept bugging me, and I finally had to ask. “What else do they say about me?”
Chapter Twenty
Bess
Idrew a shuddery breath as my eyes roamed the cabin ceiling. This was getting ridiculous. What was he trying to squeeze out of me?
Should I tell him Boris referred to him as Willy Wanker? Or start dropping Teresa’s endless selection of nicknames, mostly to do with his attendance—Dr Doo Little, Beer-o-clock, KitKat and of course her favorite, Broken Arrow, because, although useless, he couldn’t be fired. Teresa could be a bit harsh.
This wasn’t fair. But I wanted my one honest question, even if I didn’t yet know what it was. Charlie was a mystery and deep down, I was desperately curious. If I had a chance to find out more about that weird, distant galaxy, I would. For Teresa’s sake. And mine.
“Some people call you Mini Fridge.”
“I’ve heard that one. Trevor uses it, too.” He rolled his eyes.
“Do you know why, though?” I bit my lip, wondering if he knew. Wondering how he’d take it.
He looked clueless. “Because I have a mini fridge in my office.”
