Page 10 of How Freaking Romantic
“So, my professor invited me to this event last night, right? Just sort of standing around and networking and stuff to help me in the job search.”
“And?”
“It was an event for the New York City Bar Association. So, a huge room full of lawyers.”
Something clicks into place on the other end of the line. “Oh shit, he was there.”
“Not only was he there, he knows my professor.”
“Of course he knows your professor. Don’t all lawyers know each other?” she says as if this is common knowledge. “So, what did he say? Was he awful?”
I cringe. “I’m not sure ‘awful’ is the right word.”
Silence stretches out on the other end for so long that I wonder if we got disconnected.
“OH MY GOD, DID YOU FUCK JOSH’S DIVORCE LAWYER?” She screams so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear.
The woman beside me turns, eyes wide. I force a smile as I bring the phone back to my ear.
There’s more shuffling, like Maggie is moving again, then a deep voice speaking in the distance.
“Sorry, sir,” Maggie says, her voice slightly muffled as if she’s got the phone pressed to her shirt. “I’m just talking to my friend about her questionable moral compass.”
I start folding my laundry again, hoping it will recharge my patience. “Please tell me overalls guy didn’t just hear that.”
She either doesn’t hear me or ignores me. “Yes, this caulk is perfect, thanks,” she says, her voice still muted by what I can only assume is her shirt. Then there is more shuffling before her voice returns to the call, now in a low, teasing whisper. “You dirty, dirty slut.”
“I didn’t sleep with him!”
“Why not? Were you wearing your day-of-the-week underwear or something?”
I’m about to fold Tuesday but drop it back in the basket. “No.”
“Okay, then what happened?”
“We… kissed.”
“Did you kiss him or did he kiss you?”
“Mags, I literally threw myself at him.”
“But did he kiss you back?”
I pause, my head cocking to the side as I try to remember.
I had been so lost in the moment that all I really remember is how much I wanted it.
Which brings up a sobering thought: I never bothered to ask if he wanted it, too.
He had merely walked me to the door, and I acted like a drunken pendulum, berating him one minute, then launching myself at him the next.
Even if he did kiss me back, that doesn’t negate the fact that I pretty much ambushed him. Again.
“I think so? We were up against the side of my building and it was… there was a lot of…” I let my voice fade as my cheeks flush.
“Dry humping.”
I cringe again. “We were not dry humping.”
“Oh, okay, so you were just making out with the man currently throwing kerosene on our friend’s life. In that case it’s totally fine.”
I don’t reply, but the guilt hits my chest like a physical blow.
“I’m kidding,” she adds a moment later, as if she can see my crushed expression. “But you realize how insane this is, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding to myself.
“So, then what?”
“I came to my senses and went upstairs. Alone.”
“You just left him there?”
“Yup.”
“Wow,” Maggie says. There’s more silence on the other end as she seems to consider this, then says, “So where were his hands? Did he keep them above the waist or did he get under—”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to swallow back my frustration. “That’s not really the point, Mags.”
“Depends what your point is.”
“The point is, I need to tell Jillian.”
She scoffs. “That’s the last thing you need to do.”
“Are you serious?”
“Are you? Bea, her happily ever after is blowing up in slow motion and you think it will help her to know you’re sleeping with the guy holding the match?”
“I’m not sleeping with him!” I exclaim.
The woman beside me eyes me again before standing up and moving a few seats down.
“I know, but dry humping the enemy doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Maggie says.
My head falls back against the cement brick wall. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Stop it. There’s nothing wrong with you. He’s objectively hot. You’re allowed to be attracted to him.”
“But I almost invited him upstairs. What would have happened then?”
“He would have run screaming when he caught a whiff of your morning breath?”
I glower at the far wall. “It’s not that bad.”
“Oh my God, Bea. It’s like something died—”
“ Anyway ,” I interrupt, pushing a clump of curls away from my face. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s never happening again.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, but do you want it to?”
“Of course not,” I say loudly, as if volume will mask any uncertainty. “He’s Josh’s attorney. Josh . The situation is already a mess, it doesn’t need—”
A loud ping rings on the other end of the line, alerting Maggie to a text message. “Hold on,” Maggie says. A moment later, she’s back. “It’s Travis. Can I tell him about this? It’s just too good.”
“Don’t you dare. We need to just forget about this and move on.”
She hums. “You’re probably right.” There’s a long pause before she continues. “Did you at least get an orgasm out of it?”
“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Love you!” she calls out as I move to disconnect. “Keep calling me with all your bad life choices!”
I throw the phone back in my bag and begin to refold Tuesday.