“Then how about you tell her you want to give her the hot meat injection.”
He looked pissed that I’d dare say something like that and I couldn’t help but start cracking up. Goddammit he was too easy!
“I don’t want to mess this up,” he said. “I really don’t. I can’t remember the last time I liked someone this much.”
I tried—not very successfully—to not roll my eyes. “If that’s the case, then do you think it was such a smart idea to get her a job at the same place you worked?”
“I thought it was a great idea. That way I’d be able to see her a lot. Plus, I’d be helping her out, because she really needed work.”
“You mean I’d be helping her out. Since I’m the one signing the paychecks.” The paychecks were not actually signed, though they did have my stamped signature on them.
“She needed a job, and we needed an admin. I’d get to see her more. Five days a week. Maybe more than that if we kept up the same gym schedules. It all sounded pretty good to me. Except . . . it’s not going exactly how I’d hoped.”
“She seems fine. That whole thing with changing the water was pretty mint, if I do so say so myself.”
“You should have offered to help her.”
“I did. And she turned me down. What did you want me to do? Force her to accept my assistance?”
“No, of course not. And she is doing great here—I don’t think it was a mistake to hire her. I just thought I’d have an easier time talking to her.”
“You’re such an amateur.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t say you’re an expert in the category, either. How well did things go with Annie?”
I waved my hand. “She ended up being a little more unbalanced than I first thought. We all have a lapse in judgment from time to time. Listen, Jay, if you like her that much, just ask her out. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m afraid of making a fool of myself! I’m afraid of her saying no. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
I thought of saying that there was no way Jonathan was going to be overwhelming anyone, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Maybe you could sort of . . . I don’t know . . . get an idea from her whether or not she’d be interested.” He wouldn’t look at me as he said this.
“Really?” I said. “What is this—middle school? Do you want me to write her a note and pass it to her across the aisle? Circle ‘yes’ if you like Jonathan. Circle ‘no’ if you don’t.” I laughed.
He looked at me in agony. “This isn’t funny! It’s not a joke. And was I laughing at you when all that shit went down with Annie? When she tried to throw that stapler at you? I had your back.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m not really laughing at you, though. I’m laughing with you.”
“But I’m not laughing.”
“Well, if you were in my shoes, you might be. Sure, I’ll help you out, Jay. I’ll suss out the situation for ya, I’ll report back. Sound good?”
The look of relief on his face was clear as day. “You’ll do that for me?”
“Sure. We can call it . . . Operation Daisy Dukes, how ‘bout that?”
“That’s sounds totally sexist. How about we don’t call it anything? Because then it’s making it sound like a much bigger deal than it actually is.”
“If anyone is making this a big deal, it’s you.”
He took a deep breath. “I know, I know, you’re right. I don’t want to turn this into something . . . something that it’s not.”
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