Page 55 of Employing Patience

Orson: I think we already know the answer to that.

16

ART

I take Sunday off work. Not because Joey’s working, but because people keep whining at me that I need to take days off, so here I am doing it. Mostly.

I might be working at home, and I might be searching through notes I’ve made for potential Nevele Ounces recipients. What was I thinking, choosing that name? It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and now I’m stuck with it. It’s either Nevele Ounces or me owning up to being the one throwing money around. I can’t do it though. I’ve spent so long distancing myself from that person that he feels like a separate entity.

It’s not enough to distract me from being tempted to go into work, just to check up on the place, but I keep my ass planted in this chair.

Sundays are busy. I wouldn’t have a second to talk to him, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.

We had sex. It was a long time coming, and so goddamn worth the wait, but now I can add him to my “been there, done that” list and move on.

To other men.

Lots and lots of other men who don’t have faded freckles or a cute line of small moles on their upper thigh. Men who know how to put in a hair tie properly or, better yet, don’t need one at all. Men who don’t work for me.

Men who aren’t currently covered in marks I left on them.

God, he was a sight. I should have counted them. Were there ten? Twenty? Thirty? Every time he catches sight of them until they fade, he’ll immediately think of me. My thumb runs over my shoulder again before I catch myself. No more thinking of Joey. And the way he shivers as he comes.

Somehow, I keep my ass in my seat until dinnertime, when I catch up with Payne. We go way back, having been through school together, and even though we lost contact for a few years while he lived in Boston, he’s still the same guy I always knew.

Just older and, therefore, way cooler.

“Beau didn’t want to come out?” I ask, taking the seat across from him.

“Nah, I dropped him over to see Marty and Lizzy on the way. He’s deep in a book, so he’s almost impossible to make sense of right now. I practically had to drag him out of there.”

“And you didn’t want to leave him home alone?” I guess.

Payne huffs. “I wanted to get through dinner without worrying about him. There are only so many times I can find him risking his life. He fell through the roof last week.”

“Shit, is he okay?”

“Bruised all up his leg and ass cheek.” Payne grins. “I’ve been looking after it for him.”

“You tell Beau if he ever needs a hand while you’re not there that Griff will be over in a second flat.”

“Not you too.”

Poor Payne. “It’s fun. You’re easy to rile up.”

“I thought you were better than to go for low-hanging fruit.”

“Have you met me? I literally have no standards. I’ll go for the fruit that’s rotting on the ground if I have to.”

“Well, there’s an image,” he says. “And yet you won’t go for Joey.”

I shoot him a glare. “That was for the Beau comment, wasn’t it?”

“Actually, that was because we’ve all got a bet running on how long it will take for you two to hook up. I’ve gotta say, you’d be doing me a favor to go for it in the next week.”

I stare at him, but no matter how hard I stare, all those words won’t make sense. “A bet?”

Payne lifts up his hands, but he doesn’t look at all sorry. “They made me.”

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