Grace
It’s fine. I don’t care.
I kept repeating those words to myself like a mantra as I left the café and walked down the street. These kinds of things happened all the time between Fletcher and me, and even though sex was a lot more intense than just a kiss, it was still the same thing. I should have been used to it by now, but I wasn’t.
Although Fletcher had no real feelings for me, I had some for him. I liked him—like really liked him as more than a boss and more than the escape from reality he treated me as. I would have given him everything I had and everything he could possibly want if he only gave me—and us—a chance, but I knew he never would. His status in society was far too important for him to get involved with a valued employee with whom he simply didn’t mesh.
A loud, vicious groan that made the .people walking by stop and stare at me erupted from my throat. I was never a violent person, but hearing Fletcher’s words had made me want to punch his teeth right out of his mouth. I had no idea where he came up with the crap he said, but I knew I was through hearing it.
Still hungover and with my head buzzing with anger, I decided to forgo a cab and walk to my apartment. The walk was about half an hour long which was too much for when I was late for work or tired after twelve hours in the office, but today the walk was very much welcome.
I was about half-way to my apartment when the cell phone rang. The sound annoyed my still pounding brain and made my heart race. There was a part of me that felt almost giddy with hope that the caller would be Fletcher saying he had made a mistake and knew that we did, in fact, mesh.
With a reluctant smile on my lips, I dug into my purse and retrieved the device. I didn’t even bother reading the name on the screen before I pushed the button to answer the call.
“Hello,” I greeted in an excited voice.
“Grace?” a voice that didn’t belong to Fletcher replied and my shoulders and smile sagged. Not recognizing the voice, I frowned and opened my mouth to ask who it was. However, before I had the chance the man on the other side said, “It’s Harrington.”
Instantly, my lips turned into a broad smile. Harrington and I had been inseparable all throughout high school. He had moved away to Boston to attend a prestigious engineering college, and I had stayed behind, which caused us to lose touch. Hearing his voice again gave me the best kind of nostalgia and lifted my spirits just a smidge.
“Oh, my gosh! Harrington ‘Hairy’ Jones. How long has it been?” I asked in an upbeat tone.
He chuckled. “Eight years and four months, which is far too long but somehow still not long enough for you to forget that unfortunate nickname.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not my fault. An afro that big can never be forgotten. It’s something that just stays with you, ya know?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. I spent the past eight years trying very hard to forget all about that bird’s nest, and I’m completely over it now.”
Once more, I laughed. Unlike some people I worked for, Harrington never failed to lift my spirits. It was one of the many things I had missed about him.
“It’s great to hear from you. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing pretty good, actually,” he said in his signature tone. “And I’m in town. My mom just sold her house, and I’ll be here for a few weeks to help her move. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up?”
My eyes rounded and the awful feeling of my hangover lifted a little. “Of course, I do. Are you free tonight?”
He laughed at my enthusiasm and said he was. We made plans to meet at around seven at this a new pub called Rat and Parrot. It was a trendy place close to my apartment I had been dying to go.
With a new pep in my step and with my worries about Fletcher almost forgotten, I made my way to my apartment. Once there, I took a quick nap to get rid of the rest of my hangover and then started getting ready to meet Harrison.
Because he was one of those ridiculously good looking men, I put some effort into my look. I smoked out my eyes, put on a bright lipstick, high heels and a cute dress that was flattering but not too form fitting—I didn’t want to give my old friend the wrong idea, after all.
I arrived at the pub at exactly seven and saw his smiling face right away. I couldn’t help but grin back as I walked through the dim lit corridors towards his table at the back. Boy Harrington had been good looking, but man Harrington—with his buzzed head and broad shoulders—was something out of a fashion magazine ad.
He stood up and hugged me. He smelled like Tabaco and cologne, a combination that would usually be nasty but worked well on him.
“Holy shiz . . . You grew up good, Hairy.”
Laughing, he released me and kissed my cheek. “So did you, Gracie.”
The nickname gave me mixed feelings. On one side, it brought back so memories of our past together, and on the other made me cringe with thoughts of the other man who called me that.
“I was thinking beers and whatever fried platter they have. You in?” Harrington asked.
“As long as there are wings involved, I say hell yes.”
With a pitcher of beer and a ton of deliciously greasy food in front of us, we spent time catching up. The conversation flowed freely between us as it always did. We talked about college and work, we remembered the past and discussed our plans for the future. All in all, I was super proud of the man my old friend had become. Aside from his nasty smoking habit, he had grown into a pretty decent guy.
The food was mostly over, and we were half-way through our second pitcher when Harrington started to fidget in his seat. He was never much of fidgeter, so I narrowed my eyes at him which made him laugh.
He ran a hand through his barely there hair and shrugged. “I guess there’s no subtle way of asking this, so here it comes . . . Single or taken?”
I laughed through the rim of my beer mug. It was clear that Harrington was flirting and though he was doing a great job at it, I couldn’t help but feel weird. We had been platonic friends for ages, and the idea he would be interested in me like that was funny to my tipsy self.
“Is the question or my interest funny?” he asked with the tiniest bit of hurt in his voice.
Feeling like a jerk for making him feel like that, I immediately stopped laughing.
“Neither,” I said honestly. “I’m laughing because a nun couldn’t be more single. I recently got dumped by a one-night stand guy,” I added, not specifying just how recently the dumping had happened. “I never knew that was even possible.”
Harrington visibly relaxed and laughed as well. “I didn’t either, which is just one more proof that whoever the guy was, he’s an idiot.”
My cheeks blushed at the clear compliment. I had never thought about Harrington as anything other than a good friend, but his sweetness compared to Fletcher’s assholeness made my heart warm up to him—at least a little.
“What about you? Any lucky Bostonian snatched you?”
He leaned over the table and narrowed his eyes as he held my gaze. “C’mon, Gracie. You know I wouldn’t be flirting with you if that was the case.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “People change.”
“Not that much,” he assured me.
There was a long moment of silence but, to my surprise, it wasn’t at all awkward. Quite the contrary actually. I was perfectly content sitting across from my flirty old best friend. Deep down, I knew my delight at this moment had less to do with Harrington than with the fact that after feeling like two-day old garbage this morning, I was finally feeling beautiful and wanted. It was a magical feeling.
Tipsy and too elated to think, I blurted out, “I’m glad, then.”
With that discussion behind us, we moved on to other, non-flirtatious subjects and the night went on great. Unwilling to deal with another hangover, I switched from beers to diet cokes as we talked and laughed as we had back in high school.
By the time I started to yawn, and Harrington asked for the check, I realized just how awesome it was to have the attention of someone who actually cared. It made me wonder how I could have ever wasted my time with a selfish man like Fletcher. I couldn’t deny that thoughts of him and our night together still made my heart skip several beats, but I now knew that I deserved better than what he had to offer. I deserved to be treated right by a man who saw me as something more than just a cheap lay, and though Harrington didn’t make my skin sizzle and my heart pump as Fletcher did, I wondered if he could be that man for me.
“I loved seeing you again,” I told him as we walked out of the pub.
He gave me one of his million dollar smiles and hailed a cab for me. “I did too, Gracie. And I hope to see more of you while I’m in town.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d like that as well.”
A car parked beside us, and we both knew our time was over. His deep brown eyes flickered to my lips, making his intentions very clear. For a moment, I felt panicky.
In all our years of friendship, I had never envisioned myself kissing Harrington. He had never given me goosebumps, sweaty palms or any of the exciting emotions that led to kissing.. But he was a good man, a steady man, a man I knew I could count on and who made me feel beautiful and happy. Those things, I decided, were more important than fireworks and butterflies, and so I closed my eyes and welcomed his lips into mine.
The kiss was warm, just like Harrington, and he was gentle. There was absolutely nothing bad or strange about the kiss, but there was nothing special either. I didn’t know if it was because it wasn’t a case of forbidden fruit, but I honestly didn’t care. The kiss was nice enough, and Harrington was great, and I was determined to enjoy the moment.
“Are we going, or what?” the cab driver called from inside the car, forcing us to break the kiss.
I pulled away from him and giggled. “I have to go.”
Harrington sighed and nodded as he opened the door for me. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I assured him as the car drove away.
Looking out of the window, I waved at him until he was out of sight. Then, I rested against my seat and closed my eyes. What the hell am I doing?
I wasn’t leading him on because I genuinely liked our time together, but I wasn't exactly honest either. He was a great person and didn’t deserve to be the rebound. My dubious attitude towards him made me feel awfully like Fletcher, and I felt dirty as a result. I didn’t want to cause my oldest friend the kind of pain my boss had inflicted upon me, but there was a part of me that desperately needed the attention and desire I saw in Harrington’s eyes.
Hoping to appease my mind, I decided to take things slowly but still give whatever this thing between us was a real shot. Yes, there was no spark, and I was in love with another, but I knew those things could change. There was no other option, after all.