Rusty nailed(35)

Pussy—that’s exactly what she said.

She said she wouldn’t come if I came?

Isn’t that what you just said?

I’m totally coming. Can I bring someone?

Is that wise?

Who says wise? I’m bringing someone.

Text from Mimi to Sophia:

So . . .

No.

Come on! Neil said he wasn’t coming—

Good! I’ll come.

—if you were coming

What? What a baby; he can’t handle it if I’m there?

Well, he’s handling it, he’s coming. And he’s bringing someone.

Well I’m bringing someone too.

I thought you weren’t coming.

Shut up. What time?

• • •

It was late. I was once again at the office, alone. It was almost midnight, and the shitty part was Simon had just gotten home from Bora Bora this morning. In a previous life, when I wasn’t responsible for someone else’s design firm, I’d have taken a long lunch break to go home, see him, have a nooner, and then head back to work. But not anymore.

Now it was almost 11:00 p.m., and I was putting the finishing touches on my first payroll report, since the accountant wasn’t able to pull all the hours he needed from his computer at home. Which is where he was. Which is where most people were.

I felt like I was finally getting on top of everything workwise; turns out you can get everything done when you work twelve-hour days. And weekends. With Simon away on a job, I could do it. I ate, slept, and peed Jillian Designs. But it was worth it; I was getting a taste of what it would be like to run my own business someday. Jillian had been an amazing mentor to me, she still was, and I wanted to do a great job for her. Could I have asked her for a little more help? Maybe, but I wanted her to enjoy herself. So I barely managed to keep my head above water.

My phone rang just as I clicked send on payroll. Yawning, I answered. “I promise I’m leaving.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“But this time I really am. Can you hear that? Those are my shoes, walking down the hallway. And hear that? That’s me getting out my keys to lock the door.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being out so late at night all alone.”

“Babe, I am capable of handling myself. Besides, how do you think I get home most nights?”

“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me come pick you up. What if some weirdo is out tonight, and likes the way you look in your red heels?”

“Well then, that weirdo’s gonna get an ass full of red heels if he tries anything— Wait, how did you know I’m wearing red heels?” I asked, whirling around.

Parked just a few feet from the front door was Simon’s car.

“What are you doing here?”

“I can’t believe you really thought I wasn’t going to come pick you up,” he said into the phone, hanging it up and getting out of the car.

If he was sun kissed when he was in Africa, he was sun baked while he was in Bora Bora. Which made his eyes even more blue, his face even more handsome, his jet-black messy hair even more enticing. He caught me into a hug so tight he even picked me up a little bit and my feet hung.

“You’re so pretty,” I whispered, kissing his cheeks and his forehead and his nose and finally his sweet lips. Which were now grinning. “How long have you been out here? Have you been here all night?” I asked as he opened the car door, and I saw the stacks of coffee cups.

“Not all night.” He walked around to his side, getting in and turning the car on. “Just since about nine thirty.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come down. I would’ve stopped working.”

“I knew you needed to get your work done; no biggie.” He yawned.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a biggie,” I insisted, then leaned across the seat to kiss his cheek again. “You glad to be home?”

“You have no idea—I’m going to sleep for days. After I get some sugar,” he said, shooting me a waggly eyebrow.

“Maybe tonight, no sugar. Maybe tonight, just sleep.”

“I’m tired, but I’m not that tired,” he said, even as a yawn cracked open his face.

“We’ll see,” I conceded. “You should sleep so you’re ready for Game Night tomorrow.”

“Good point. I’ve gotta make sure we kill everyone at Pictionary. Is everyone coming?”

“Yep, should be interesting.”

“If you girls can behave yourselves,” he teased.

We cruised. He yawned.

“How’s the ninth looking for you?” he asked suddenly.

“The ninth?”

“Of December. The reunion  ? You still want to go with me?”

“I do. Bring on the cheesesteaks!” I smiled, resting my hand on his leg and making little circles there.