Waiting for You(30)
Jake’s eyes went back to the computer and he clicked on a link he hadn’t tried yet. He wondered what went into making something like this. “Could I see what it looks like from your end? Behind the scenes?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to look under the hood?”
Her analogy was so good he laughed out loud.
So did Mark. “Yeah, that’s Jake for you. He always has to see the inner workings.” He got up from his chair and glanced at his watch. “I’m going to head home—I’ve got a hot date tonight and I smell like machine oil. Erin, don’t forget we’re taking you to dinner tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“We want to,” he said with a grin. “You kicked ass on this site, and you could’ve charged us double what you did.”
She shook her head but didn’t argue, and after Mark left she took his chair.
“What do you want to see?” she asked Jake.
“Whatever you do when you put this stuff together.”
“It’s not that exciting,” she said. “I’m mostly writing a lot of code and building from templates. Here, I’ll show you what your source code looks like.” She clicked an icon in the upper corner of the browser, and the page filled with lines of colored text.
She went on for a few more minutes, showing him the tools she used to build a site. He was interested, but after a few minutes his attention was split between what she was explaining and the way it felt to be this close to her.
That perfume was like a damn drug.
She paused, and he realized she’d asked a question. She was looking at him expectantly, and he found himself lost in her gray eyes. What the hell had she asked him?
His phone buzzed, breaking his paralysis, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen, saw it was Mindy, and put it back.
“You can answer it,” Erin said.
He shook his head. “It’s someone I don’t need to talk to.”
“Family?” she hazarded.
His shook his head again. “Mindy Nelson,” he said. “You probably don’t remember her.”
“Of course I remember Mindy. You guys dated for almost a year. I always wondered if she was your first love.”
He smiled a little. “Mindy and I were about lust, not love.”
“Hmm. What about Jill Cates?”
He shook his head. “I liked Jill a lot, but I didn’t love her.”
“Celia?”
“No. No one in high school.”
“Okay, now you’ve made me curious. Tell me about the first woman you ever fell in love with.”
That night at O’Malley’s, she’d asked him what it was like to be back—but she hadn’t asked him about his experiences overseas. Of course, she didn’t know this question would lead there.
He thought about changing the subject. But instead he heard himself say, “Her name was Hope. She was a combat medic.”
“Was?”
He nodded. “She was killed by a roadside bomb two years ago.”
Erin inhaled sharply. “Oh, Jake. I’m so sorry.”
He wondered what she’d think if he told her the rest. That if Hope had never known him, she might be alive today.
But he wouldn’t burden another person with the demons that haunted him. Hope’s death wasn’t the only loss he’d suffered, and if he started down that road there’d be no end to it. He shouldn’t have told Erin about Hope at all, but she was so damn easy to talk to. He forgot to keep his guard up when he was with her.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he said.
Erin nodded, her expression still troubled. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that he was okay—but the best thing he could do was change the subject.
“Tell me about the worst mistake you ever made at work.”
She blinked. “At work?”
“Yeah. With one of your websites.”
She took a deep breath, and he could see her trying to switch gears, trying to put what he’d told her behind her. That was the risk with conversation. You could be going along just fine, and then find yourself falling into an abyss you hadn’t even seen coming.
“I know you’re a perfectionist, but you must have messed up at least once.”
That made her smile. “You could say that, yes. The first big client I had was a local furniture company. I transposed two digits in their toll free customer service number, and who do you think their customers got connected to when they called to place their orders?”
“The President of the United States?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then I’m guessing a phone sex line.”
“Close. A transvestite escort service.”