“Oh, Jesus take the wheel.” She sounds just like me… only much more sarcastic. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Dropping onto the couch, I clutch my forehead. “I know. I’m going to have to change jobs.”
Seconds tick by, and it’s quiet on the other end of the line. “Did he tell you that?”
“No.” I sit up slowly. “He actually asked me to spend the night.”
More silence on the other end of the line. I wait as long as I can. “Renée?”
“You know, chicken is one of the worst mass-farmed animals. You really shouldn’t eat it.”
Blinking, I shake my head. “What?”
“You think I’m fanatical about this, but it’s bad karma. You should know how your food lived and how it died before you eat it.”
“Renée! I’m not going to stop eating chicken. Tell me what you think I should do.”
“I think you should be vegan like me.”
I almost scream. Instead I take a deep breath and calm my voice. “About Patton.”
“Oh, I already told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“I told you this job could open doors for you. I told you not to get involved with your boss. I told you not to fuck it up.” I can’t tell, but I think she’s pissed at me, too.
Can anybody give me a break and see it from my side?
My heart feels like it’s melting in my chest. I’ve got the most enormous crush on him. I don’t know if I can make these feelings just stop on a dime. Renée at least has seen him, worked with him…
“Why did you quit?”
“Because I hated him.”
“Oh.” My voice is quiet. I didn’t know she hated him.
“Well, I’ve got to go!” She exhales loudly. “Got to get my eight hours. It’s not a holiday for me.”
“Okay, well, thanks. I love you.”
“Protect your chin.”
We disconnect, and I drop down on my couch, pulling my shirt over my nose. Inhaling deeply, with my eyes closed, it’s like he’s here. I wrap my arms around myself wishing…
I’m so confused and reeling and I still feel like I want to cry, which is silly. I wanted to spend the night with him so bad. I just knew if I did, it would change our dynamics too dramatically. It would change everything.
It would give him all the power.
I exhale a wry laugh at myself. Like he doesn’t already have it.
My hand is on my phone when it vibrates. Turning it over, I see a text on the face from a number I don’t recognize.
I’m sorry. Tonight was unprofessional and completely my fault. It won’t happen again.
As I read the words, I realize it’s him. Now my eyes really are wet. I blink, and a tear drops onto my cheek. My inhale is shaky as I lift my phone and quickly save his number as Sexy Devil.
I start a reply and delete it. Then I start another and delete it.