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He scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Stop me if you’ve heard this one: discrimination is against the law.”
“I’m not talking about the law.”
“You mean me?”
I just wait.
“You know, Nic, I think I’m offended. No, it’s not going to be a problem. I don’t care who you date, assuming everybody’s of age and consenting. And frankly, screw you for suggesting otherwise.”
He sounds… hurt? I blink.
“Sorry.” I swallow. “Really. I’m sorry, Fred. Like I said, it’s new.”
“Yeah, well,” he says gruffly, still disgruntled. “I don’t care what you do in your off time. Neither will most of the people at this branch. Some of them might be dicks, I can’t swear to it, but mostly, it won’t be a problem. This isn’t the old South, Nic. Nobody’s going to give you grief about it here. If they do, you tell me. I’ll handle it.”
I’m stunned, too stunned to speak for a moment. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know when your family thing gets cleared up.” He hangs up without another word.
I eat the meal Natalie ordered for me without tasting it. Could it possibly be that easy? Is it truly possible that most people… just don’t care?
It’s easier to think about Frederick and the rest of the Legal Aid volunteers than to think about Barry, so I do. After lunch, I bury myself in work because, despite my recent best efforts to drive this office into the ground, it’s the surest bet I’ve got right now.
Natalie and Finn look up from their lunch in the front office, watching me watch them.
Well. Maybe not the surest bet.
28
NATALIE
Ishoulder my bag and take a deep breath, soaking in the evening air as I push open the door, grateful it’s finally starting to warm up outside. A gray SUV parks just outside the Sizzle HQ building as I hit the sidewalk. It looks familiar, but I can’t tell who’s driving. Car services for the network, probably. They all look the same to me.
Risking the displeasure of my men, I decide to walk the whole four minutes to the restaurant to pick up our dinner order while they lock up so we don’t have to mess with the traffic in Nic’s car. I’m standing in line before they even realize I’m gone, texting Finn to make sure they pick me up after they’ve locked the office for the night.
My men. Huh.
The restaurant is full of the best smells in the world—sizzling meat, melting cheese, and all the cilantro. Waiting for the hostess to package our order is the sweetest form of torture.
Call me old-fashioned, but I like to see my men fed. At least this way, I know they’re getting a vegetable once in a while. One of these days I’ll get to cook for them properly, but for now, takeout will have to do.
Finn wants me to stay with them all weekend. What he really wants is for me to stay with them twenty-four seven until Nic’s brother is found and questioned by the police, maybe even charged with a crime. But since we already know I’m not the target, I can’t see the point.
I can see the appeal of it, though, being locked in together for the duration. But I remember what it’s like to wear out my welcome with a man, and maybe it’s silly of me, but I cannot bear the thought of them getting sick of me just because we spent too much time together too soon. Not that I want anything else, personally. If I could guarantee I wouldn’t get on their nerves or they wouldn’t need their space… truth be told, I’d never leave.
That’s probably not healthy, but it’s the truth. I want to be with them all the time.
It’s too soon to be feeling that way, but I can’t help it.
“Natalie?”
I blink, coming out of my thoughts to focus on the wingtip shoes on the floor in front of me. The only man I know who actually wears those?—
“Hello, Jeff.”
Jeff smiles, all teeth. It’s his “I can’t wait for you to hear this” smile. That doesn’t bode well for me. I look over to see the hostess arguing with a line cook in emphatic Spanish—no to-go order in sight.
“It’s great to see you, Nat,” he says, sliding into the seat next to mine. I shift a polite distance away.
