Page 32 of Across the Boards

“I sent it to Brody,” I choke out, staring at my phone in disbelief. “The lingerie picture. I sent it to BRODY!”

“WHAT?!” Sarah’s shriek can probably be heard three blocks away. “How did you— Why would you— Oh my god, Elliot!”

“I don’t know!” I’m already frantically searching for a way to unsend the message, fingers trembling so badly I can barely navigate the screen. “I was distracted by your comment about him and I must have clicked his name instead of yours and oh my god he’s seen me in my underwear.”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths,” Sarah coaches, though she sounds like she’s barely suppressing laughter. “What did he say exactly?”

I read his text aloud, my voice strangled with mortification.

“Well, that’s... good?” Sarah offers. “At least he didn’t immediately screenshot it and show the entire team.”

“That doesn’t help!” I groan, sinking onto a chair. “What do I even say to him now? ‘Sorry for the surprise lingerie pic before 9AM, hope we can still make eye contact at the gala’?”

“Actually, that’s not bad,” Sarah muses. “Humor is always good in these situations. Though I’d add something about how he could send one back if he wants to.”

“I am not asking him for underwear pictures!” The mere thought sends a rush of heat to my face that has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with an entirely different emotion I refuse to name.

“Fine, be boring,” Sarah sighs. “But seriously, just acknowledge it, apologize if you feel you must, and move on. It’s not like you sent him full frontal nudity.”

“It might as well have been,” I mutter, staring at my phone as if it might spontaneously combust. “I haven’t let anyone see me in less than a bathing suit since the divorce.”

My phone buzzes again, and I nearly drop it in panic.

I realize this was probably not meant for me. I can pretend I never saw it if that makes things easier.

A second message follows immediately.

If we’re being honest, I’m wildly jealous of who it was meant for because you look incredible. In case you were wondering.

“He’s being nice about it,” I report to Sarah, torn between relief and a new kind of mortification. “He says he can pretend he never saw it.”

“See? Total gentleman,” Sarah replies. “Now what are you going to say?”

I take a deep breath before responding.

You’re right. It was meant for Sarah. I’m mortified beyond words. Thank you for being kind about it.

No need for mortification. These things happen. Though if it helps even the playing field, I could send one back. Only fair, right?

I almost choke on air. “He’s offering to send a selfie to ‘even the playing field,’” I tell Sarah, fighting the urge to fan my suddenly overheated face. “Why is he being so... nice about this?”

“Because he’s a decent human being who is also clearly attracted to you,” Sarah says matter-of-factly. “Not all men are Jason, Elle. Some of them actually know how to handle awkward situations with grace.”

Her words hit home in a way I’m not fully prepared for. It’s true—I’ve been measuring all potential interactions against the worst-case Jason scenarios for so long that genuine kindness feels suspicious.

“So what do I say now?” I ask, staring at Brody’s message.

“Well, if you’re not brave enough to take him up on the counter-selfie—which I vote yes on, by the way—at least be gracious about his attempt to make you feel better.”

I consider for a moment.

Your diplomatic handling of this situation is appreciated. I think I’ve fulfilled my embarrassment quota for the month without adding your shirtless photos to my phone. But thank you for the offer.

Fair enough. But don’t overthink this, Elliot. It’s just underwear. We all wear it. Some of us just look better in it than others—and you definitely fall into the ‘better’ category.

The casual compliment, delivered with such apparent ease, makes me flush all over again. Before I can formulate a response, another text comes through.

Actually, you know what? This isn’t fair to you. Give me two minutes.

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