Page 43 of Pierced

“Obvious how?” I ask.

“Like, uh, you would pay attention to her? You’d say nice things to her? You remembered her name.” I look at Andrew, who raises his eyebrows. “I mean,” she goes on, “on anybody else, stuff like that would just be basic courtesy, but coming from you? You might as well have been freakin’ proposing to her.”

I can feel that my mouth is a tiny bit agape, but I can’t seem to find the resolve to close it. So, after a moment, I just stand up. “That’s ridiculous,” I say, popping my cuffs and adjusting the knot in my tie. “Absurd. Don’t you have some dirty videos to make or something?”

“Don’t be a dick just because you don’t wanna face the fact that I’m right,” she says.

“Hey,” I tell her, “I don’t need a reason to be a dick,” and I start to leave.

I’m just about at the door when I hear, “Pierce?”

I turn back to see the two of them standing side by side. A unified front. A team. I mean, she’s clearly the captain, but still… a team.

“Yeah?” I say.

“Myrtle’s a really, really good person. She has the exterior she has, but underneath it, she’s… she’s soft. Just, whatever it is that you think you’re going to get out of this, don’t puncture her again. OK? I don’t think she’ll stick around if you hurt her again.”

Yeah. No shit.

“Don’t worry, mes amis,” I tell them with a wink as I open the door. “I got this.”

I so totally do not got this.

Is it possible that Eden is right? Could Myrtle have an actual thing for me? Could I have a thing for her? That’s crazy talk. Yeah? I mean, I know what I feel about things. Don’t I?

Don’t I?

To be fair, last night I learned more about myself than I’ve learned in probably a dozen years, so…

But no. There’s no way Myrtle could’ve had a thing for me—like, a real thing—and I wouldn’t have noticed. I mean, it’s not possible.

Is it?

Is it possible that I’m really that blind to shit going on around me?

“Oh, hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you coming,” I say to Valerie as I bump into her in the hallway next to my office.

“Oh, no, sir, that’s all right. I’m sorry. My fault.” I wish she wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t her fault. If I had accidentally bumped into Myrtle like that, she would’ve said something like, ‘That’s OK, I love being manhandled.’ Or something equally disconcerting and probably needing to be reported to HR. “I was just coming to find you,” Valerie continues. “Ms. Rothschild is waiting for you in your office.”

“She is?” Valerie nods. “OK. Great. I’ll, uh…” And then I kind of lose myself for a second.

Valerie’s voice brings me back. “Sir?”

“Uh, yeah. Great. Thanks, Val.” She smiles and nods, and heads off. I look up at the ceiling for reasons passing understanding, and then continue on into my office where I do, indeed, find Myrtle waiting. She’s once again sitting behind my desk, legs crossed. She’s eating a Twizzler. Jesus fuckin’—

“Help you with something?” I ask.

“I need to push your time to eight tonight.”

“My time?”

“Your expected arrival time. I need to push to eight o’clock. That is if you’re still planning on showing up.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She eyes me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”