Smiling faintly, he assures me, “You’re close enough.” Grabbing my coffee pot, he pulls it away and holds the cup under the drip. “You were late making coffee, however. You’re gonna make me late to court.”
“Just tell the judge you were distracted by my perfection; he’ll understand.”
Henry cracks a smile. “My client might not.”
“He sounds like a jerk anyway,” I inform him.
“But a jerk who pays me so I can keep bringing you breakfast each morning.”
Nodding in consideration, I say, “All right, a necessary jerk. I’ll allow it.”
He stares at the coffee trickling into the cup like that will make it fill faster. I allow myself a moment to admire the smooth lines of his navy suit, the snowy white shirt and sharp tie around his neck. His briefcase has been abandoned on my kitchen table. It’s the same routine we have every morning, though usually I’m more punctual with the coffee.
I’m not much of a cook anymore, but by God, I can make a pot of coffee.
Henry technically stopped at Starbucks to get me my muffin. The argument would hold that he could have much more easily bought himself coffee there, but this is our little habit. It used to be his excuse to see me before he went to work when he was trying to convince me to go out with him. Now it’s one of the few times we’re sure we’ll see each other since we both keep such busy schedules.
On that note, as he quickly moves his coffee cup away and replaces the coffee decanter, he asks, “Are we still on for dinner later?”
“If you expect me to eat again today, we better be.”
Popping the lid on his cup, he assures me, “If my meeting runs late, I’ll order you take-out.”
“Best boyfriend ever.”
“You better believe it,” he says, lightly placing a hand on my hip and giving me a sideways kiss. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll text you when I get out of court.”
“Good luck,” I tell him, as he grabs his briefcase.
“Don’t need it,” he shoots back.
“Cocky asshole,” I mutter.
He smacks my ass. “That’s why you like me. Send me a picture of you in these cat pajamas, by the way. I want this mental image to be a real image that I can pull out and look at when I’m bored today.”
“I will not do that,” I warn him, as he heads out of my kitchen.
He’s already gone, so I follow behind him and lock the front door. My multi-talented graphic designer, Louise, looks up at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“What?” I demand.
“When are you going to let that poor man spend the night? He drove all the way over here so he could see you for 90 seconds. Let the man sleep over.”
“Mind your business,” I tell her lightly, heading to the kitchen to retrieve my muffin and some coffee.
“I’m minding your business because someone has to,” she calls back. “You have a hot lawyer boyfriend and you are not appropriately locking that shit down. You guys have been on one date. One. Singular. And you haven’t let him spend the night once.”
I head back into the living room—our office, dubbed Awesome Central by Louise—and walk to my own desk, behind hers, in the center of the living room. “Of course I haven’t. Like you said, we’ve been on one date.”
“But you act like a couple. I just heard him refer to himself as your boyfriend. How do you get awesome men to call you a girlfriend after one date without even putting out?”
By not giving a fuck, but I don’t tell Louise that. Instead, I sip my coffee and smile faintly. “I’m just that good.”
“You’re a relationship ninja. You need to teach a course for us basic bitches.”
“It would be an incredibly short course. It would not be worth your money. Trust me.”
“I’ve been trying to get Trevor to stop being a dick and it is not happening.”