- Gemma -
d never felt so crazy, and that was saying a lot.
After all, there had been times in my life where I thought food was my best friend, times I thought I was in love with an abusive man, and times I wished I had any face but my own.
But this was a whole new kind of crazy.
Overnight, I’d 10x-ed my level of responsibility and pushed away the one person who made me feel like I could handle it, the one person who made me feel like I was the woman for the job.
As a result, it sort of felt like I was faking it without him.
But that was ridiculous.
He’d only been in my life a few short weeks.
So what if he was the first person who ever saw me how I wanted to be? So what if his faith in me had helped me rise to the occasion?
I groaned and leaned back in my desk chair. It wasn’t like me to shoot myself in the foot like this.
Or was it?
Shit. What if self-sabotage was my thing? What if it had always been me that was responsible for destroying my own chance at happiness?
It was so much easier to blame my bad luck on Colonel Sanders. Or Ray. Or my mom.
“Come in,” I said, straightening out of my slouch when I heard a knock.
When Alex’s head popped around the door, I stood up. Why did I do that? Ugh! So pathetic.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I pretended to adjust the paperweight at the far corner of my desk and then sat down again. “What do you want?” Nooooo?! “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way.” Say me. Say you still want me.
“That’s okay,” he said, closing the door without taking his eyes off me. “I deserved that.”
I swallowed and gestured at the seat in front of my desk. “What I meant was, is there anything I can do to help you do your job better?”
He leaned back in the chair, his broad chest muscles shifting under his uniform. “You been watching Ted Talks?”
I blinked at him.
“That’s straight out of Simon Sinek’s, isn’t it?”
My cheeks burst into flames.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he said. “Everyone thinks you’re a great boss. Makes sense that you’re working at it.”
I squinted at him. “Why do you know that?”
“Because the staff talks, you know th—”
“No,” I said. “The Ted Talk. I didn’t know you bought into all that entrepreneurial motivational stuff.”
“Eighteen million people have watched that video.”
And that? Why did he know that? And why was I so surprised? It’s not like I knew him that well. Hell, maybe I didn’t know him at all. I certainly never could’ve predicted how easy it would be for him to blank me for the last ten days, anyway.
“There is something you can do, actually.”
I grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip. “What’s that?”
“You can push your beginner class harder, for one thing,” he said. “Thirty percent of new members enroll if you mention it more than twice while they’re signing up.”
“Where did you get those numbers?”
He shrugged. “I asked Shannon and André to try it the last two days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He cocked his head.
“Oh right,” I said, smacking my forehead. “Because you’ve been busy blanking me like a child.”
His face grew stern. “I’ve been blanking you like you asked me to.”
I stared at him, so pissed I could almost see past how handsome he was.
“Congratulations, anyway, on the beginner class,” he said. “It’s obviously going to be a big success.”
“I didn’t ask you to blank me,” I blurted. “I didn’t ask you to give me curt answers every time I spoke to you and for you to not even look at me during the day.”
“You think I have to look at you to see you?” His eyes held mine. “I see you everywhere. You’re all I fucking see.”
I swallowed.
“But I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy, Gemma. So I’m sorry if it’s awkward for you, but I can’t be your friend. Not after…” He stopped himself and stood up.
“What did you want?” I asked, standing again.
He looked at me, and once again, I hoped he would say me, that he wanted me. But the desk between us was a reminder that we were dancing on the edge of a line, a line that was feeling more insurmountable with every passing minute.
“Never mind.” He moved for the door. “It’s not important.”
“Alex, please.” I miss you, I thought, hoping he would read my mind.
He looked over his shoulder. “You can say no.”
I went to cross my arms, but sort of hugged myself instead. God, how I wished my arms were his. “I’m listening.”
“My mom wants me to ask you to accompany me on a double date with her and the widower that just moved in down the street.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“You said your mom wants me to come along,” I said, glancing down to find my nerve. “But do you?”
He sighed. “Yes and no.”
I curled my toes in my shoes.
“Yes, because ever since you got promoted, you’ve been like Rapunzel, all locked up far away and refusing to let your hair down.”
I suppressed a smile. If I was Rapunzel, who did that make him?
“On the other hand, bringing you to a geriatric dance class isn’t at the top of the list of ways I’d like to impress you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But it would mean a lot to my mom so—”
“I’ll do it.”
“I didn’t even tell you when it is yet.”
Shit.
“It’s Saturday,” he said, perhaps sensing my embarrassment. “So if you don’t have plans…”
“I would be honored to meet your mom.”
His expression lifted slightly. “Thanks, Gemma. I owe you one.”
I nodded.
“I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”
“Looking forward to it,” I said, cartwheeling on the inside.
His eyes smiled. “Bring your dancing shoes.”