Page 40 of Missed Communication
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, she thought I worked here.”
Aubrey sputters a laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was, but no, even after I told her, she asked if I could find her server. Lesson learned: don’t wear all black when going out to dinner.”
“That might be a good idea. But speaking of clothes…” She dips one of the fries in the sauce, then her eyes snap up to mine as she takes a small bite. “Do you want to stop at the hotel for your suitcase after this?”
“Why do you really want me to stay?”
She pauses for a moment too long, and maybe I’ve read this all wrong. This beautiful creature in front of me could just be using me, maybe to get over her ex-husband, maybe to prove she has power… I don’t know, but I hate it.
I’m milliseconds from getting up to leave when she admits, “I like you.” Her words are soft, but keep me in my seat. “That’s what scares me—and also pisses me off. I was prepared to move on with my life as a single mom, because I gave up on men. Then I met you. A friend of mine told me today that I needed to be careful, and I will be, but I’d like it to be like the week I was in Ottawa, where I can be myself after a long day of helping Olivia run the fourth largest economy in the world. Because at work, I won’t be able to sit next to you without my entire body feeling like it’s on fire, and when you look at me like”—she points at mewith her fry—“that! When you look at me like that, I forget my own damn name.”
“And how exactly am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m special,” Aubrey quietly admits. She then sits back and clears her throat, spotting Walter delivering our salads. Like before, he sets them on the table without a word.
Fuck the deal we made, I reach my hand across the white linen for hers. When she places her hand in mine, warmth spreads in my chest, and I assure her, “Because you are.”
“I’m not, but will you stay with me this week?”
“I won’t want to leave.”
She squeezes my hand a little tighter. “And I won’t want you to, but next week we’re traveling, and with the schedule they’re proposing, we’re going to be gone more days than we’ll be here in the next few months.”
The likelihood that someone is paying attention to us is slim to none, so I risk bringing her knuckles to my lips before releasing her hand. “Tonight, I’m going back to the hotel, and if you still want me to stay with you tomorrow, then I will.”
20
Aubrey
You only live once. That’s the saying, right? I may be making the biggest mistake of my life, but if there’s a chance that I can have what my best friend has, I need to take the leap.
Kristin’s words echoing in my ears do little to deter me as Jamie and I continue eating dinner. A man uprooted his life to be here, why shouldn’t I give him a chance? He has all of the facts to make an informed decision and is still interested. Coming out of a marriage where my husband treated me like I was an employee more than a wife, I’ve been jaded, but for the first time in a really long time, I feel seen. Most men are threatened by women with any kind of power, it doesn’t seem to faze Jamie.
I’m only able to eat a quarter of my sandwich, and sink into my chair with a groan. “I think I ate too much.”
“Eyes bigger than your stomach?”
“Maybe,” I chuckle. “How’s the pasta?”
“Do you want an honest answer or a polite one?”
“Both.”
He smirks and all I want to do is kiss it away. “It’s good, but I’ve had better.”
“Want the rest of mine? I can’t have another bite.”
“Give it here,” he laughs with gestures with an expectant hand for me to pass it to him. When I do, he grips my wrist and takes a large bite out of the sandwich before releasing me. Once he’s done chewing, he has a gulp of his drink, then offers an approving nod. “Better than mine, but you should have a few more bites. You haven’t had a lot of protein today, and there’s a little life growing inside you.”
I rub my belly. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a food baby.”
“I’d suggest unbuttoning your pants, but you’re wearing a skirt.”
Not caring that I’m not wearing underwear, I unzip it from the back halfway and pull out my blouse. “Fuck, that’s better.”
