“What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have asked for a kiss.”
“Why not?”
“Because now I’m not going to be able to focus on working, and I have a lot to get done.”
He laughs and slides his arm around my waist, guiding me inside and up the stairs. “You should let go in case Dad’s around,” I say quietly.
“Am I your dirty little secret, Watson?” he whispers deviously in my ear.
I use one of his own comebacks against him. “You love it.”
His response is adamant. “Yeah, I do.”
Inside, I settle back into my desk, and Jay goes to use the bathroom before he leaves. His jacket rests on the edge of my desk, and I only become aware of it because his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Without thinking, I slide my hand in and retrieve the phone. A text message runs across the screen from an anonymous sender.
Tonight. Nine o’clock. The usual place.
My brain goes into overdrive as I quickly shove the phone back in his pocket and try to make his jacket look like it hasn’t been interfered with. What the hell is that message about? I come to the nauseating conclusion that it sounds a lot like a booty call. A night time meet-up. The usual place. God, is Jay seeing someone as well as me?
Instantly, my heart plummets from the lofty heights to which it had previously been soaring.
A second later he walks back out, grabbing his coat and shrugging into it. Leaning across the table, he gives me a soft, momentary peck on the lips before telling me he’ll see me later for dinner. I don’t even have the capacity to worry about Dad seeing the kiss because I’m still focused on the message.
It takes a couple of deep breaths for me to gather myself and sneak a peek into Dad’s office. He’s furiously typing into his computer, oblivious to the world, so it’s likely he didn’t see the kiss.
For the next few hours I mindlessly complete my work for the day, but the question about the text remains at the forefront of my mind. I need to know what it was about. I need to know it’s entirely innocent and that I have nothing to worry about. So I decide there’s nothing else for it.
I’m going to have to follow him.
Twenty-Three
As soon as I get out of work, I head for the bus and call Michelle. I haven’t spoken to her since Jessie’s party on the weekend.
“Well, hello, stranger,” she croons into the phone.
“Hey, how are you?” I reply, trying to sound chirpy.
“I’m okay. Well, I’m still a little hung over, actually. I ended up spending the entire weekend at Jessie’s place. I’m telling you, that girl knows how to keep a lady occupied. I know I’d had my sights set on the blond guy. Ben, I think his name was. But he vamoosed with his friend Stuart after Jay punched him for dancing with you, so that was a dead end. Anyway, I only left her place this morning and had to go straight to work. One of my colleagues pointed out that I had ‘freshly fucked’ hair. I was, like, mortified dot com.”
“Michelle.”
“Yes, Matilda?”
“That’s a delightful story, but please don’t use mortified dot com ever again.”
She laughs loudly down the line. “Fine. So, what happened with you and Jay? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I swear to God, if you say ‘nothing,’ I will find a way to teleport through this phone so I can strangle you.”
“Stuff happened, but we’ve agreed to take it slow. I really like him,” I gush, unable to hold back.
“Well, well, well! The girl who doesn’t like any man finally finds a man she likes,” says Michelle, sounding a mixture of smug and pleased.
“I didn’t not like any men. They just didn’t like me.”
“Oh, shush. None of that matters. Now you’ve got the bad-boy hunk to end all bad-boy hunks, so who cares about past failures? I have to say, I’m feeling a touch of the green-eyed monster coming on.”
“I thought you were all loved up with Jessie?”
“Loved up? Please. It’s just sex with the two of us. She knows it. I know it. We’re both fine and dandy with the concept. Now, back to you and Jay. Has he gone down on you yet?”
“Michelle!”
“What?”
“Where are you right now?”
“In the queue at Boots. I had to stock up on shampoo and conditioner. Why?”
“This is not a phone conversation you should be having in the queue at Boots. So, let’s wait until we see each other in person to talk about…those sorts of details. Right now I need your advice on something else.”
“Okay. I’m intrigued. Continue.”
I tell her about THE TEXT. Yes, over the past few hours it has become such a huge issue in my head that I now have to refer to it in all caps. Michelle listens and then mulls it over for a moment.