Page 48 of Room One Hundred and Twenty Nine

“What?” I say, blushing. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

Right?

“I heard you say something about making it fit.” Nicholas lifts a brow, and I blush deeper.

“I… I was talking to myself about…”

“About what?” he asks.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He stands and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. He’s got his shirt sleeves rolled up, and it makes him look really sexy.

“Alright. You don’t have to tell me.” He hands me a bunch of papers and adds, “Can you file these for me?”

I give him a two finger captain's salute and say, “Yes, Sir.”

Before he leaves, I hear him say under his breath, “Fuck. I like the sound of that.”

I put on a nice dress and head outside to wait for my dad to pick me up. He’s always at least fifteen minutes early, so I made sure I was ready at twenty to eight.

At quarter to eight, my dad pulls into the driveway. I jump in and we drive to the restaurant. Other than the usual greetings, we don’t say much. NPR plays on the radio so quietly I can’t really hear it, and every red light feels like an eternity. There’s a tension between us that’s mostly my fault. I bet he’s wondering what the hell is wrong with me and the worst part is I can’t fix it. I mean, I could tell him right here, right now, but that doesn’t seem fair to the men. To Elijah, who’s best friends with my dad.

When we get to the restaurant, we’re still not talking. It’s only when we take our seats that he starts to talk.

“So, your mom and I are looking to take a trip next year.”

“Oh, cool.” Thank God, yes let’s talk about Mom. I can do that. “Where do you think you’ll go?”

“We were thinking of Italy. Two weeks. Maybe in March or April.”

“That sounds great. I hope you have fun.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You’re happy to join us if you can get off work.”

“Thanks for the offer,” I say, and I feel the tension slowly ebb away.

But then something makes me sit up straight and a tingle of electricity runs down my spine. I look up and see Elijah entering the restaurant.

Holy shit. Is Elijah the “friend” Dad mentioned he was having dinner with?

Ah, fuck me. It is.

Elijah’s movements slow as he reaches the table. As if he can’t believe I’m here.Right back at ya, buddy.

“Elijah. I believe you know my daughter. Your assistant.”

I chuckle and take a big sip of wine before extending my hand to Elijah, trying to ignore how good it feels to touch him.

“Yes. I’m familiar,” he says in a calm tone that makes it sound like a little joke.

Leave it to Elijah to keep it professional.

Elijah and Dad talk about the trip he and Mom are taking and that gnawing guilt I pushed down earlier returns. I bite my nail as I watch my dad and his best friend chat.

It’s casual and they invite me into the conversation sometimes, but I mostly just listen. Occasionally, Elijah looks at me with a hint of concern in his eyes. I’m guessing he’s probably worried about getting caught like I am.

After finishing my glass of wine and then my water, I have to go to the bathroom, so I excuse myself from the table and head to the restroom.

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