Page 22 of To Feel Like This Again
“You know what? Pour me a glass of wine. Let’s unwind together,” I demand light-heartedly, reaching for a glass from the cabinet.
“Did you do anything fun in Jamaica? Like fun, fun?” Emily asks, sitting down back on the bar stool.
“Well, I did a coffee tour in the Blue Mountains — the coffee is incredible and it’s gorgeous up there in the mountains. I bought a pack for you. You can brew it in the morning. I also spent time on the most beautiful beach.”
“That’s great. Finally, you’ve done something outside of work on your trip. Did you take pictures?” she asks, genuinely interested.
“I took a few,” I respond.
“Great. Show me,” getting excited and pointing to my phone.
Not wanting her to see the selfie I took with Nick, I quickly scroll though the gallery and show her a picture of me at the look-out point. “Here’s one,” I say.
“That view is incredible,” she gushes, grabbing the phone and rotating it to the left to view the picture in landscape.
Before she can swipe left, I reclaim the phone, saying “Let me find one of me at the beach.” Browsing through the gallery, I click on a picture at the beach, “Here’s one.” This time I firmly grip the phone while showing her the photo.
Zooming in with her fingers, “Wow, Lisa. You were rocking it. I’m jealous of your body in that bikini!”
“Wait, why didn’t you post one of these cool pictures on Instagram? Instead of that lame group picture at the luncheon or whatever the hell that was?” she asks, her face serious. “Although you did rock that outfit.”
“Sweetie, you know I’m not much of an Instagram user,” I reply.
“You’re so lame. Speaking of Instagram, I followed one of your colleagues.”
“Which colleague is that?” I ask with some indifference. Because why do I care who she follows on Instagram?
“Nick… he is so freaking hot!” My heart comes to a sudden stop and I feel like a deer caught in the headlights just before the driver slams down on the brakes.
“He liked the group picture you posted in Jamaica. And of course, you’re lame and only have ten followers or something like that,” she says sarcastically, “so, out of curiosity I clickedon his profile, and he looked fine from the back and rugged with the Rottie. Anyway, something about the picture piqued my curiosity. So, I requested to follow him, and he accepted.”
“Okay. He’s a very intelligent young man,” I say nonchalantly, or rather I hope it came off that way.
“He’s gorgeous. I’d love to hear his accent. Is it sexy? Does he sayHey Mon, like in the movies?”
“He sounds like every other Jamaican to me.” I take a sip of the wine but I need more than a sip.
“So, did he also request to follow you?” I have to ask, because I can’t help it.
“Ye, he sure did. And I immediately deleted all the pictures of John.” John is her most recent ex-boyfriend, if you want to call him that, not the asshole who upended her life. He’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t believe he needs a college degree to get a good job.
“He’s actually coming to New York, and Alex suggested that we invite him over for dinner.”Wait, why did I volunteer that information?
“Oh really, when?”
“In a few months.”
“Okie, I need to get in shape before he gets here… you never know,” Emily winks.
“Can you stop? Remember I’m his boss. It’s weird for you to speak about him like this.” I really need to gulp down the glass of wine or the bottle for that matter, but instead I take another sip, desperately hoping it will suffice.
“Relax, Lisa. Have you seen him? Oh. My. God… you’re so annoying. Way too uptight. You need to get out of your little corporate bubble and enjoy the finer things in life… And he isfiiinnneee.”
Brining up his profile on her phone, she clicks on an image. “Look at this shirtless stud at the bench… he is so delicious and so freaking sexy.”
“By the way, I’m sorry to hear about you and John, he seemed like such a nice guy. What really happened?” I hate to bring it up, but it is the only way out. And it works. She gets fired up and rambles on and on about John’s shortcomings.
Chapter 12
