Ten Days of Perfect (17 page)

“First of all,
Monica,
it wasn’t that kind of ‘hot night’.” I cocked my eyebrow mockingly. “We slept together - as in sleep. Second of all,” I exhaled dreamily, “yea, I’m all ‘hot girl playing the guitar on the beach,’ and I don’t know what to do with that.”

It was true; the first thought I had that morning had been to go play the guitar. A night sleeping in bed with Bo and I woke up with
that
on my mind.

“What else is going on up there?” Monica nodded to my head.

“I love him.” Shock didn’t overtake me as I thought it might.

“You love him.” She nodded like we were talking about the weather.

“Monica, I’m
in love
with this man and I have nothing snarky to cloak it in! Help!”

“Ha! Ember, that really
is
love!”

We burst
into
a fit of laughter, before I got dressed for work. As we walked down to our cars, Monica turned to me.

“You know what you ha
ve to do at work today, right?”

I don’t have to tell my boss anything - yet.

“What
?
”

“You’ve
got to
ca
ll Adrian, before he calls us.”

All blood and feeling left my face. “Nice buzz-kill, Mon.”

“Well, he knows damn well that it’s been about twenty four hours since you learned of his involvement. Wait.  Did Bo see him yesterday in Concord?”
Man, she’s good.

“Yea, for some contract stuff. But he did tell Adrian about me and you learning about
him
. He said Adrian seemed ‘pleased’ to be talking
about us, whatever that means.

“Hmmm.” She seemed to be working something out in her head. “Let’s call him. By let’s, I mean you.” She winked at me as she got in her car and drove away.

* * *

“Adrian Turner, please.” I held my vo
ice steady on the phone. Monica
watche
d me.  She looked like she was
boiling with excitement.

“May I tell him who’s calling?” the unsuspecting secretary responded.

“Of course, November Ha
rris from The Hope Foundation.”

“Seriously?” Monica whispered. “As opposed to the November Harris from the
‘Girls You Sexed Up foundation’
?” I threw my pen at her.

“
Just one moment,
Ms. Harris.” I was clicked to hold.

I mouthed to Monica that I was on
hold but in an instant, I
wasn’t.

“Adrian Turner here.” His voice hadn’t changed at all. It purred through the phone and headed straight for the recesses of my brain.
No!
You don’t live there anymore, Turner

“Adrian, hi!”

“November? How are you?” He did his best to sound surprised.

“Oh, listen to you, acting all surprised that it’s me when your secretary took my name,” I teased whil
e Monica shot me a ‘thumbs up’.

“Witty as ever, I see.” Adrian’s voice retained its purr.

“Listen, Adria
n
-
”
I was ready to attack, but he cut me off.

“I know,
I know
. I should have called you when I first started discussing you guys with DROP, but I knew you’d probably avoid me or tell me to screw off.” His playful defensiveness brightened the conversation.

“Yes, Adrian, you
should
have called. We’re adults. You made it weird by being all sneaky.” My voice was intentionally
flat.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I just wanted to connect with you
and
clear that up before Monica and I meet with all of you.”

“Actually Ember, I’m heading down to Barnstable
today - didn’t Spencer tell you?”

Suddenly I was on an out-of-control carousel. I needed air. I no longer had a few days to prepare to meet Adrian in Concord; I had mere hours. If he was coming all the way to Barnstable, he’d want to see me for sure.
Shit!
And, no, “Spencer”
hadn’t said anything to me about this. The look on my face drew question from Monica’s eyes. I covered the phone and
whispered
that Adrian was coming
here
today. Her face flushed the s
ame color I suspected mine was.

Didn’t Spencer tell you?

“No. I haven’t seen Mr. Cavanaugh since our meeting yesterday, and I haven’t checked my e-mail. You were my first order of business,” I lied thr
ough the phone with confidence.

“First order of business, was I? Good to hear. I’ll be in town this afternoon to meet with your lawyer and check out some office prospects. I’d love to get together and catch
up; tell
Monica I say hi.”

“Sure, that sounds great. I will. Bye, Adrian.” I stared at the phone for a few seconds after hanging up, collecting what little thoughts I had.

“So?
!
” Monica nearly screamed.

“Adrian says hi,” I teas
ed
; she threw my pen back at me.

“
Apparently he
’s
coming
here to meet with our lawyer today and to look at some potential office spaces. He’d just fucking love to get together and ‘catch up’. He asked if ‘S
pencer’ told me he was coming.”

The bottom of my stomach slipped away as I repeated the words. I began to question if this wasn’t
the real reason
Bo drove back to Barnstable last night and met me at my apartment at nearly midnight; he wanted some alone time with me before Adrian got to town. Bo seemed
so
threatened by Adrian. I wondered why Bo wouldn’t just tell me that Adrian was planning on coming.

“Maybe he didn’t want Adrian in your head. He just wanted to enjoy time with
you
,” Monica suggested after I shared my thoughts with her. It seemed reasonable.

“I guess. I wonde
r what shit Adrian is pulling.”

“You should call Bo,” Monica said.

“Call Bo about what?” Bo’s voice rounded the corner before he did, and he leaned against my office door. His eyes fell on my still-flushed face and filled with apprehension.

“Uh, well, I just got off the phone with Adrian. He says he’s coming to town
today
and wondered if you told me. I told him I hadn’t seen you since our meeting here yesterday, and hadn’t checked my email yet today.” I focused my eyes on his.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming,
Spencer
?” The cool accusation caused Monica to shift in her seat.

Bo lifted his chin and confidently retorted, “November, check your email. You will find one sent yesterday evening, informing you of Mr. Turner’s intended travels. It was sent to you, Monica, Carrie, and your lawyer.” His voice was stained with equal parts command and irritation.

“I see.”

“I prefer to keep work at work, November.”

He had a point; not once had we discussed work in our private time. Adrian, however, wasn’t “work.” I knew it, and so did Bo.
Accusing him of
withholding information clearly hurt him. Still, I was beginning to think I didn’t care for Spencer, the alter ego to my beloved Bo.

“Well, I’m outta here.” Monica gave no further explanation as she slid past Bo and down to her office.

I stared at her empty chair a moment before returning my stare to Bo, who remained standing
with his hands in his pockets.

“You’re awfully formal this morning,” I accused as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs.

“I told you, November,
I prefer to keep work at work.”

“Well, in that case, won’t you have a seat?” I threw a
screw you
eyebrow in his direction while I gestured with my hand to an empty seat across from my desk.

While I had been the one hell-bent on keeping my relationship with Bo
professional
as far as work was concerned, I was caught off guard by his distant language. The walls inside me began their ascent. Bo sat stone-still, never breaking our apparent staring contest. He opened his mouth to speak, but I was having
none
of that. I got up and shut the door to my office before I continued.

“I know,
Mr. Cavanaugh,
that you prefer to keep work at work, as do I. However, I take it rather personally when something like Adrian Turner coming to town warrants nothing from you other than a group email.” I sat down, retained my crossed arms and legs position and continued.

“A group email covers things like meeting times, Spencer, not information like
Adrian.”

“Please stop calling me Spencer, Ember,” he charged through clenched teeth.

“That’s your work alias, isn’t it? And, are we
not
at work?”

Check your e-mail my ass.

“It’s your tone I don’t particularly care for,
Ms. Harris
.”

Now I didn’t care for
his
tone, and I was about to go for the kill.

“Last night, after you spoke with Adrian and knew of his plans to travel here tomorrow, you came to my house. We went for a walk on the damn beach
at midnight
. On that beach I cried about my feelings for you. On that beach
you
asked me about Adrian, Bo-
you
brought it up. I told you all there
was to tell about him, and still you weren’t satisfied enough with my story to give me the decency of letting me know he
was coming to town?”  My interrogation rivaled anything I’d seen on Law & Order.
Push those tears back. Now is not the time.

“You knew that Monica and I had no idea he was working for you. He is clearly up to something, and even you called him a smug bastard.” My jaw was painfully tight.

Bo broke under my intense visual scrutiny. He threw an exaggerated breath to the floor as his hands held his head. When he sat up his face was different, it was Bo - not Spencer. I suppressed my petty guilt at my uncompromising tone because I hadn’t yet heard what he had to say.

“November, I’m sorry,” he acknowledged, “I drove all the way back here with the intention of telling you about Adrian in person. He asked how you were doing. It killed me to tell him that you seemed happy when I couldn’t tell him that I felt I had a part in that. He smiled and wondered, out loud, if you were involved with anyone worth
y of you. I just had to shrug.”

His honestly paralyzed me. Adrian was fishing for information, the way many people do, but it was to the wrong person, and no one could say a word.

“He lit up about seeing you again and it gnawed at my insides. I drove all the way back here
to -”

“Pee on my leg.” I cut him off. While I knew he was working for an apology, the barbarism of this whole thing was suffocating.

“Jesus, Ember, give me a break!” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “It’s not like that. Once you opened up to me about your parents, Adrian, and your feelings for me, I couldn’t ruin a perfectly good night. I wanted to talk to you about it this morning, but when I saw you in the sand with that guitar . . . the rest of the world stopped. I knew in that moment that Adrian Turner, Josh and Monica, wor
k;
none of it mattered.” He reached across the desk and put out his hand. I surrendered, setting my cold hand into his sweaty palm.
You make him sweat.

“Ember, please, don’t be upset with me. I’ll fire Turner if it means we can forget about all of this,” he pleaded.
Pleaded.

I wanted to weep in response to his honesty. Instead, I took a deep breath.

“Bo, it does matter. All of it matters, that’s the point. We just have to navigate it. We can’t blow past the storm in favor of calmer waters. And, please don’t fire Adrian. He’s good at what he does; he’ll figure out why you fired him and probably sue your ass off.” I smirked and inhaled again, knowing I needed to respond to his bearing-of-the-soul here in my office.

“Look, I’m sorry for being so taciturn in regards to Adrian. We were young and it was painful when it ended. I wouldn’t feel the same now, but my 21-year-old self still feels its rawness. So, yeah, it pissed me off that I wasn’t given a heads up. I could have shared the full emotional bloodbath with you, but I didn’t want that in your head. I don’t want your ex-girlfriends in
my
head.”
Ouch
. That was the first time I actually considered ex-girlfriends.

“November, any ex-girlfriend I have pales in comparison to you. They’re irrelevant.” He dismissed them figuratively with his hand.
Guess I’m his girlfriend.