Page 15 of About that Fling (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #2)
He clicked the key for his camera, then fired off a couple shots. One turned out blurry, but one wasn’t a half-bad image of him sitting shirtless in blue plaid boxers with his reading glasses slightly askew. He hit the key to attach the image, then waited.
Jenna McArthur: HOLY SHIT!!!!!
Adam frowned, not sure how to read that response. He didn’t have to wait long.
Jenna McArthur: Christ, I was kidding, but oh my God. How is it possible for someone to look that hot lounging in bed on a random Saturday night?
Adam smiled. At least she wasn’t annoyed, or worse, offended. He decided to push his luck.
Adam Thomas: Your turn.
Jenna McArthur: No way. I’m a woman. I know better than to send sexy photos to strange men on the Internet. Besides, I wasn’t kidding about wearing your ex-wife’s dress, but I was kidding about taking it off. Still wearing the damn thing. Does that weird you out?
He hesitated, sensing a distinct shift from flirtation to something much more serious. He went for honesty again.
Adam Thomas: You mean does it weird me out that you swap clothing with my ex-wife, or does it weird me out that you’re still fully dressed? Yes to the first question. No to the second.
Jenna McArthur: It’s a yellow silk sundress with an empire waist, an asymmetrical hemline and contrast stitching beneath the bust. Familiar?
Adam frowned. Was she asking if she was wearing a garment he’d ever removed from his ex?
He wasn’t sure if this was a joke or not, but it definitely wasn’t flirtation.
He could understand why the whole thing might feel odd to her.
It wasn’t jealousy, precisely, but something else.
It was one thing to know a partner had lovers before you.
It was quite another to wear her clothes.
Adam Thomas: I understood “yellow,” “dress,” and “bust.” Beyond that, you’ve lost me in the fashion nuances.
Jenna McArthur: You’d make a terrible cross-dresser.
Adam Thomas: I’ll mark that off my list of professional ambitions.
He stared at the screen a moment, not sure whether to keep the conversation going in this direction or to try to shift things back to humorous flirtation. What did she want?
Jenna McArthur: I’m sorry about this afternoon. About kissing you on the roof.
Adam Thomas: You can kiss me on the veranda anytime. Though maybe the lips would be better.
Jenna McArthur: LOL. The Three Amigos, right?
Adam Thomas: Yep. And don’t worry about it. The kiss was perfectly tolerable. Maybe a little less tongue than I might have liked, but I’m not in a position to be picky.
Jenna McArthur: Thanks. I’m not sure why I keep doing that.
Adam Thomas: Kissing me or stopping?
Jenna McArthur: Yes.
Adam Thomas: Kissing me = Because I’m irresistible. Stopping = Beats me.
Jenna McArthur: Maybe because we’re working together and you used to be married to my best friend?
Adam Thomas: Oh, yeah. Details.
Jenna McArthur: She’s my best friend, Adam. I can’t betray that.
He frowned, fingers hesitating over the keys.
Adam Thomas: Understood.
That wasn’t entirely true, but this wasn’t the forum to delve into it. He hesitated with his fingers on the keys, trying to think of some way to avoid letting go of this connection with her.
Adam Thomas: Okay then, what’s a platonic topic? Baseball? Books? Pizza?
Jenna McArthur: I hate baseball, I love spy novels, and I will fight to the death if anyone challenges my assertion that Rigatelli’s makes the best pizza in Portland. Maybe in the universe.
Adam Thomas: Rigatelli’s?
Jenna McArthur: It’s a few blocks from your hotel. You should check it out. Friday nights they have karaoke.
Adam Thomas: You do karaoke?
Jenna McArthur: No way. But it’s fun to watch.
He thought about making a voyeurism joke, but decided they’d moved beyond the sexy flirting. He tried not to feel sad about that.
Jenna McArthur: I’d better go check on my aunt. It’s been good chatting with you. Goodnight, Adam.
Adam Thomas: Goodnight, Jenna.
Jenna McArthur: Oh, and I’m rescinding that last friend request. Sorry for the confusion.
Adam Thomas: Probably best. See you Monday?
Jenna McArthur: xoxoxo
He stared for a moment at the cyber hugs and kisses. They seemed like a deviation from the business-formal writing he’d come to expect from her. Had she done it on a whim, or carefully counted each x and o ?
He tried to remember which one stood for hugs and which represented kisses. Either way, they weren’t the same as the real thing. Not by a long shot. But they were all he was likely to get from her.
He knew why, and it all came down to the other thing he’d written that wasn’t entirely true.
Because he remembered that goddamn yellow dress. Mia had bought it the summer before they split, and she’d worn it during a weekend getaway to the Jersey Shore. A failed, last-ditch attempt to rekindle the marriage.
The vacation and the dress had been no match for the problems between them.
Adam shut down his Internet browser, trying not to picture the dress on Jenna. On the floor of his hotel room.
He closed his laptop and put it on the nightstand, a funny lump in the pit of his stomach.
“We’re going to kick off this morning’s mediation session with an icebreaker exercise.”
Adam surveyed the assembled group, noticing a few annoyed expressions and several staff members who didn’t look fully awake.
He kept his eyes away from the corner of the room where Mia and Jenna had seated themselves next to the refreshment table.
He had to appreciate both their resourcefulness and their position out of his immediate line of sight.
“Let’s start things off with a very basic question,” Adam continued, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the podium someone had set there like he was some sort of stuffy inspirational speaker.
He moved around it to sit on the edge of an empty table in the front row, his eyes scanning the room to make sure he had everyone’s attention.
“Toilet paper.” He paused there, watching a few eyebrows raise and a few sleepy expressions flicker to alert curiosity.
“Over or under? Those of you who prefer over, I’d like you to go to that side of the room.
” He gestured to the right, keeping his eyes off Mia and Jenna.
“Those who prefer under, please gather over there. I’ll give you a moment to get settled. ”
He watched as members of the bargaining team swiveled their gazes around the room. There were a few suspicious looks, and Adam had to stifle a laugh at the notion that high-level executives might think a discussion of toilet paper could lead to a strategic gain in contract negotiations.
At least one person looked embarrassed, and several more still looked sleepy. But most looked intrigued, even a little amused.
He dared a glance at Jenna, and saw her look around, a little self-conscious at first. Then she strode to the opposite side of the room, joining the ranks of the “under” crowd.
His ex-wife stayed put on the “over” side of the room, and Adam tried not to give too much thought to the argument they’d had the first year of their marriage when she’d steadfastly insisted on the opposite configuration in their bathroom.
Not set in his ways at the time, Adam had been fine with giving in.
He turned his thoughts away from Mia and Jenna and focused back on the group.
“Okay then,” he said, pleased to see everyone had picked a side. “Obviously most of you have a pretty solid opinion about the proper positioning of toilet paper. Let’s take a moment to discuss why that is. Who’d like to give me a reason for your preference?”
He let the silence stretch for a few beats. He’d call on someone if no one stepped up, but someone always did. Even with something as innocuous as ass wiping, people couldn’t resist the urge to share and defend their opinions.
“It just rolls off easier,” the board president said at last, crossing her arms over her chest. “When the toilet paper comes over the top of the roll, you can see where it’s coming from and it flows better.”
“Thank you, Nancy,” Adam said, nodding in encouragement. “Great input. Now how about someone on the other side of the room?”
Brett Lombard, the president of the nurses’ union, was already shaking his head. “Actually, I find it rolls better coming from underneath. Plus it tears easier when you can press it against the wall.”
There were a couple scowls from the other camp, but most people were observing with expressions that ran the gamut from amusement to embarrassment to thoughtful intrigue.
“It’s harder for my cat to get to when it rolls from underneath,” shared the CFO. “One time when I had it rolling over the top, Maggie spun the whole roll into a giant pile on the floor and then took a nap on it.”
A few people laughed, lightening the mood a bit, and Adam said a silent thank you to Phil Gallow for bringing pets into the equation. That was always a good equalizer with a crowd like this.
“My mom taught me to always roll it over the top.” Adam turned to look at Susan Schrader, the other union rep who’d ended up on the same side of the room as the CEO. The fact that neither had thrown a punch yet seemed like progress.
Susan rubbed her hands together and continued. “She and my dad used to fight about it, actually, and he said she should be thankful that he changed the roll at all.”
“My parents were the same way,” the CEO said, looking surprised to be bonding with his sworn enemy over bath tissue. “My mom liked to fold the end of the paper into a little fan when we had company coming.”
“I just think it looks tidier.”
Adam recognized Jenna’s voice without having to turn, but his eyes slid to the “under” side of the room anyway. Jenna shrugged, her cheeks faintly pink as she touched the pendant at the center of her throat. “When it rolls from underneath, it’s more hidden. It looks neater that way.”