Page 47 of That First Night

“But you could,” he says as he stops me from moving around the office. “You could get to know her more and see where things go.”

I still have nothing to say because part of me really does want that with Peyton, but the other part of me sees this type of thing as completely foreign. Not only did I lose her once, but I also tried a relationship and it ended with Sheila leaving me to raise my son alone. Two factors that scare the shit out of me.

“Tell me what to do, you big relationship guru.”

“Text her.” He shrugs.

“That’s your best answer?”

“Yes,” he says confidently. “Right now, looking at your conversation, you look like an asshole because all you’re doing is giving her one-word answers.”

Pulling my phone out from my pocket, I stare at it while trying to figure out what I can text her that isn’t the word ‘ok.’ I scroll back for a second to see our previous conversations and I realize I am such an asshole. She’s here doing her job and texting me updates about my son who’s at home sick with her. I should have approached this so much differently because I truly am appreciative that she offered to help me with him today so I could work. And what did I do? I treated her like an ass because I can’t get my own head right.

I keep scrolling back and land on a conversation in our text thread where I’m almost certain she was flirting with me. When it comes down to it, I want to be her friend, first and foremost. Like Marc said, I want to learn more about her. We have the physical chemistry down pat, that’s for fucking sure. I want to explore beyond this though.

I want to break the tension between us. I need to see her to talk about this and get it off our chests. If she’s regretting it, then we can discuss it and I can deal with being her friend.

Is she hanging out for a little bit?

Yes.

Touché, Peyton.

I hold my phone up to show Marc that she hit me with a one-word text basically saying ‘Fuck you too, Mr. Ford.’ We both laugh at that response.

“You are so screwed.” Marc throws his head back and laughs. “Let’s get this signing done and over with. I have a meeting with a new assistant across town.”

“What is with these people wanting meetings on a Sunday? Is he any good?”

“He is actually a she,” he says. “Apparently she is the best assistant this city has to offer.”

I was sitting on the couch with James and Emiline, still contemplating texting Thomas just to ask if things were ok. Before I could even figure out how to say what I want to ask him, my phone vibrates in my hand, and I see a text come through from him.

Is she hanging out for a little bit?

Yes.

Take that Mr. One-Word. I’m about to dust my shoulder off because well, that was pretty great giving him a taste of his own medicine, but I’m left gasping when I see the next text come in.

Come to the office in an hour.

Why?

Because I said so.

I’m with James.

No. Emiline is with James. You’re coming to my office.

Nerves flutter in my stomach and I can’t help but wonder if Emiline coming here was set up so that Thomas can bring me to his office and fire me.There’s no way, right? Panic rises as I fire off another text message.

If you’re having me come to your office to fire me, just tell me now and I’ll pack my things.

Is that what you think, Sunshine?

His term of endearment leaves me gasping, but I forget to release it. I remember when he used that nickname on me that first night and it left me just as speechless then as it does now.

I’m staring at my phone trying to find the words to reply when it pings again with another message.