Chapter Three
Abel
I can’t get him out of my head. Every time I try to focus on the work I have to do for Tom, I find myself daydreaming about Adam’s eyes. Or I’m thinking about what it would be like to run my fingers through his thick hair. Then, when I finally do pull my thoughts back to my work, I start wondering what criminal activities Tom has involved himself in.
I wonder if I’m doing something illegal too?
I highly doubt I’m involved in whatever Adam was talking about. I’m a personal assistant, but I’m a personal assistant with an MBA from Harvard. You don’t work for a billionaire without an Ivy League education, especially not with the types of responsibilities I have. People have basically called me a glorified secretary before but they have no idea what I actually do.
Sitting here just waiting for it to be time to meet Adam isn’t an option. I’ve got to get out of my apartment. Looks like Tom’s extra weekend work will have to wait until tomorrow.
“What’s up, Abel?” Angie asks when she answers her phone.
“Want to have lunch?”
“Are you buying?” she asks hopefully. Whenever I’m buying, we always go somewhere expensive.
“Sure, where do you want to go?” I ask and smile.
Angela is a hard worker. Her chosen profession doesn’t pay well, though, so I’m happy to treat her. She works as a social worker for the Department of Families and I know for a fact that my best friend works ten times harder than I do for one-tenth of the pay. Angie didn’t go to Harvard, but she still has a master’s degree in social work and a damn fine record of keeping families together too.
“Sushi?”
“I’ll pick you up in twenty,” I say and hang up.
While I’m driving to get her, I debate about whether I should mention Adam. The responsible adult in me knows I shouldn’t, but then again, the responsible adult in me should have called the police last night.
“What have I gotten myself into?” I whisper, despite the car being empty.
I pull up in front of Angie’s building and she’s waiting out front. She must be hungry, and it makes me smile. If I had to guess, she was probably about to take a huge bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I called.
“Did you at least wrap the sandwich up?” I ask as she gets in my car, and I can smell the peanut butter on her.
“I did. I swear. I’ll eat it later. You called just in time.”
“I figured,” I said and put the car in gear.
The restaurant is crowded, and for some reason that makes me feel more secure. I like being lost in the crowd, and I’m making it up to Angie since I bailed on her last night.
“What did you do last night?” Angie asks and pops a piece of dragon roll into her mouth.
Now I have to decide if I’m going to tell her about Adam or not. I choose to keep it a secret until I know more about him. I want to talk about it so badly that my skin is practically crawling, but at least I’m out of the apartment and not dwelling on the issue.
“Just worked for a while and then went home to sleep. I was thinking about making one of those dating profiles but I don’t know,” I say and take a bite of my California roll.
“Oohhh. You have to be careful with those. Lots of creeps. But I can help you. We’ll fix you up with a profile that only attracts the highest quality internet dating site men.”
“I don’t know. I’m still not sure if I want to do it or not,” I say and push the rest of my food around on my plate with my chopsticks.
“Oh, Abel you have to do it. I can see you want to move on from Tom, so go for it,” she says and grabs one of my rolls with her chopsticks.
She’s right. I do want to move on. Meeting Adam last night proved to me that I could feel something for another man. Even if it was for a criminal that I could never have. I start to feel butterflies in my stomach when I think about Adam and I holding hands.
I hadn’t fantasized about something like that with a guy since high school. Come to think of it, I hadn’t had butterflies over a guy since high school. I’m being ridiculous, though. Nothing could happen between Adam and me.
Could it?
“Earth to Abel,” Angie says and laughs.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about some work I have to get done.”
“Geez, Abe. Even when you aren’t physically at work, your head is always there. Perhaps you need to find another job. I mean, I know working for Tom pays really well, and there’s the prestige, yadda yadda yadda, but your job can’t be your entire life,” she says and steals another piece of sushi from my platter.
“Your job is your entire life,” I say, and instantly regret it.
“Yeah, but at least I’m not there nights and weekends except when I’m on call once a month.”
“You’re right. I’ll consider finding something else if I can’t get Tom to back off and give me more free time.”
“He’s taking advantage of you because he knows you like him,” Angie mutters.
“I know, and you mean liked him. I’m moving past being fixated on him. Even if he did come around, he doesn’t deserve me.” I actually mean this and I’m a little bit proud of myself.
“That’s my boy,” she says and high-fives me.
We spend the afternoon shopping. At first, I think I want to go look at shoes and bags, but then I change my mind. Instead, Angie and I spend the afternoon buying socks, underwear, t-shirts, pajamas, and books for one of the group homes she works with.
After we drop off our haul at the home and Angie hugs every single one of the kids, we go back to her apartment and put together care packages for the homeless. She doesn’t go to church but Angie spends every Sunday afternoon handing out the bags filled with socks, toiletry items, and snacks to homeless people downtown. So a lot of the local churches give her money to buy the items. To me, that seems even better.
She’s excited because this week she has twice as many since I chipped in and bought more stuff for the bags. Seeing her eyes light up when we’re done touches my heart and I vow to chip in every week from then on.
“I’d offer to let you buy me dinner but I’m supposed to go over and cook for my dad tonight,” Angie says when we’re all done loading the bags into boxes.
“How’s he doing?” I ask and hope the answer is better than last week.
“He’s still in a lot of pain. Better than last week but not one hundred percent yet. I’d invite you for dinner but I don’t think he’s up for it yet. I know he misses you.”
“Maybe next week then? I’ll help you make a lasagna if he’s up for it,” I say and start carrying the boxes to her entryway. A few guys from her neighborhood will meet her tomorrow and help pass them out. I really need to go along more often.
“He’d love that, Abe. I’ll mention it to him tonight. Meet me at Bravo at nine? I should have him comfortably in bed by then.”
“Sure thing, Jelly Bean,” I say and give her a hug.
That means I’ll have two hours with Adam. That should be more than enough time for us to discuss his suspicions about Tom.