Give Me Grace(40)

I tapped a pen impatiently on my desk before stilling the movement. Keeping my voice low, I asked, “Settling in okay over there?”

“I think so. I’m learning off a great partner, but he’s giving me all the grunt work. I was expecting it, but it kinda sucks.”

I laughed. “Yeah I remember all about being a rookie. I don’t miss it.”

She sighed. “So … I was wondering if you were free Thursday night? We could go to the cinema. There’s a couple of good movies out I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Great. Sure thing.”

“So … should I message you the time and then meet you there?”

My gut feeling was busy telling me this was all wrong. Ignoring it, I replied, “This is a date, right? So I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“I’d like that,” she replied with warmth in her voice. “I’ll message you my address.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” I checked my watch. “You must be a busy girl, so I’ll let you go. Talk soon, okay?”

“You got that right. Later, Casey.”

“Later,” I replied and hung up.

After eating lunch and putting in another solid hour on paperwork, I pushed it all to the side. Tim never made mistakes and these were filled with too many to count. Pushing back my chair, I picked up the files and headed for his outer office.

“What are these, Tim?”

He took the reports, flicking through all the sections I’d highlighted and frowning. “Crap,” he muttered, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. “These are a mess.”

Shit.

I backed up a step.

“It’s just …” Tim took a sudden turn for the worse, drawing a deep, shaky breath that made me nervous. “Dean and I broke up over the weekend,” he choked out. “He accused me of having a thing for Jean and, well, someone else.” Tim cleared his throat. “He says I’m not focused on us and that I need to grow up. I’m sorry,” he added, slumping a little. “I thought coming into work would be a good distraction. I should’ve stayed home.”

“Jean?”

“You know, the barista?” he replied impatiently.

No, I didn’t know the barista’s name was Jean, but there you go. The barista was ruining my day by proxy once again. First with bad coffee, and now this. Tim was a flirt. This was not news. He and Dean broke up over the issue more times than I could count, but Dean needed to learn that Tim was Tim, and he didn’t have to change his spots for anyone. It meant the time had come to intervene. “And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Have a thing for Jean?”

“No!” he cried out. After a pause, he added, “Well, maybe. But just because the guy’s hot doesn’t mean I’m trying to get in his pants. I love Dean!”

I sighed internally and folded my arms. Fuck Mondays. Fuck them upside down, left, right, sideways, and every which way. “Do you want me to punch him?”

Tim looked me over and visibly shivered. “Yes!” Then he covered his face with his hands. “God, what am I saying? No! I don’t want you to punch him, but uh, thanks. Violence is not my thing.”

“Oh, okay.” I pretended to nod thoughtfully. “So that guy I saw watching the MMA on YouTube the other day was your alter ego?”

“Yes.” He nodded along with me. “It must have been.”

“You want to take the afternoon off, Tim?”

“No!” He shook his head, his eyes once again filling with tears. He dashed away one that spilled over. Reaching for a tissue, I offered it towards him but rather than using it, he began shredding it into little pieces. “He isn’t working today. He said he was going to pack some stuff and stay at his brother’s place for a few days.”

My phone buzzed in the background. “You should get that,” Tim told me. “I’ll ring Mac. Maybe I can stay at the duplex for a couple of days. I can’t face going home without Dean there.”

“You can’t stay there. Grace is using their guest room.” Tim chewed on his fingernail and gave me a hopeful expression. After a few beats of silence, I yielded far too easily to his puppy dog eyes. “Fine. You can stay at the loft. But don’t leave your million and one products all over the bathroom like you did the last time you crashed our pad. I couldn’t find the basin beneath all your crap. And you can’t have Coby’s bed this time. You have to take the couch.” Coby had been out of town the last time Tim and Dean had a falling out. I’d let Tim take over his room for three days. Coby was pissed when he found out. Well, maybe a bit more than pissed. The man had developed a nasty eye twitch on hearing where Tim and Dean’s reconciliation had taken place. It took weeks and the purchase of a new mattress for him to get over it. I narrowed my eyes in warning. “No sex on the couch.” I liked my couch and its well-worn groove. I didn’t want a new one. “Or anywhere else,” I added.