“That man is into you, Luce. I know you don’t believe me, and I know you want to believe he’s just a friend, but friendship is the farthest thing from his mind when it comes to you.” His voice was so controlled, so restrained. I was proud of him . . . still irritated, but proud.
“We weren’t even close enough to touch elbows, Jude.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that he wanted to touch you and easily could have, since you were lying right next to him.”
With everything that had happened tonight, I’d pushed aside the bomb Anton dropped after work. I’d planned on telling Jude, because that wasn’t something I thought I should keep from him, but now, after Jude was already pissed to the moon and back, he’d surely charter a plane and fly across the country tonight just so he could kick Anton’s ass in person. Was it a lie if I omitted it for maybe a week?
From the guilt that trickled into my veins, I guessed it was.
“Now, Luce. I’m sorry for the way I lost it tonight. That’s on me,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “But I need you to keep your distance from Anton. I know you want to believe the best in everyone, but not everyone has the best intentions, Luce.”
“How do you expect me to keep my distance? He’s my boss. I file his paperwork and submit his expense reports and make PowerPoint presentations for him Monday through Friday.” After taking a few hours to cool off, I realized I’d been a tad rash in wanting to quit. I had a job, a good, paying one, and I didn’t want to pack up my cardboard box all because my boss had admitted he was attracted to me. Anton certainly wouldn’t have been the first boss to hit on his secretary.
“Remind me again why you’re so insistent on having your own job?”
I sighed my answer.
“Okay, okay. So you can’t physically keep your distance from him, but keep your emotional distance from him. That’s all I’m saying, Luce,” he said, sounding more tired than anything else. That was the same way I felt. “And no more lying next to him with a bunch of blankets and shit, dressed in nothing but a tiny tank top and my underwear. Okay?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Do you really need to ask, Luce?”
“After the whole thing tonight . . .” I said, trying not to replay it in my head. “Yeah, I need to ask.”
“Asking. I’m always asking, Luce,” he said. “Sometimes I just ask with a little extra enthusiasm.”
I heard an almost-smile in his voice and could feel my own starting to bloom. “Sometimes? More like all the time.”
He gave his low laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. But the only reason I’m asking with enthusiasm is because I care about you, Luce. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anything else. I’d do anything, sacrifice anything, and say anything to protect you.”
“I wouldn’t put Anton Xavier high on the list of what I need protecting from,” I replied.
“I would,” he answered instantly. “And if you’re having a tough time understanding where I’m coming from, just put yourself in my shoes. What would you do if you found out I was working for some rich, fine chick who would do anything to get me into bed, and then you called one night to say good night and found me cozied up next to her?” He paused, probably more to drive the point home than to catch his breath. “Would your reaction be so different from mine?”
I wanted to snap back with, Of course it would, or, Hell yes, but I didn’t. Because I knew he was right. Jude had made me understand his point of view, and that was a feat worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
“No, it wouldn’t,” I admitted reluctantly. “I’d claw that bitch’s eyes out through the phone if I needed to.”
Jude was laughing in earnest now. Hearing him laugh made me chuckle, too. “So we understand each other, Luce.”
“Always,” I said, yawning around my laughter. “Sometimes it just takes us a while to get there.”
“Sometimes?” he said. “How about all the time?”
I lay back down and burrowed into my pillow. “Thanks for calling fifty times and apologizing.”
“Thanks for answering on the fiftieth call and accepting.”
The moment after we hung up, I was free of the rest/awake limbo land. I didn’t wake up once until my little-man alarm clock was bouncing on my bed, bearing pancakes in the shape of footballs.
It was Friday night again. Our weekly dinners with our thrown-together family already felt like a time-honored tradition. Last week we’d made manicotti and garlic bread, and this week we were making our special guest’s favorite meal: cheeseburgers and fries.
Jude had flown in earlier this afternoon, and even though I fought tooth and nail to get the day off so I could pick him up at the airport, Anton had had a big day full of meetings and conference calls, and said that if ever he needed an admin, today was the day. So I’d been stuck at the office when Jude had landed. I knew he was probably already at our apartment, just waiting.
This afternoon had been a torturous practice in patience.
I was watching my computer screen like a hawk, so when it changed over to five p.m., I was out of my seat and halfway to the door before anyone else had powered down their computers over in cubicle city. Anton had gone to an off-site meeting an hour ago, so I didn’t have to check with him to see if he had any last-minute tasks for me before I left.