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No response.
I take a bite of the sandwich and head to my refrigerator to grab an iced tea. While it’s no fifty-million-dollar apartment like the one my parents own in the city, the kitchen is big for a place in this part of town. Probably three times the size of most. My mother’s only been here twice, and both times she begged me to move somewhere “more appropriate.”
I’m nearly halfway finished with my sub before she responds.
Ada: Pleading the 5th.
I chuckle out loud. This woman is more than a pretty face. She’s smart. And funny. And sassy. And ambitious.
Even if she weren’t our RPM, those are all reasons I should be shutting this down instead of enjoying myself immensely. I’m not looking for a relationship, and she makes me want things I can’t have. Which means she’s dangerous to me in two ways.
Hayden: I’ve been thinking.
Ada: Sounds dangerous. . .
If only she knew.
Hayden: Funny.
I pause, knowing what I need to write and really, really not wanting to do it. I might have said “the ball is in your court” this afternoon, but I’m going to lob one over the fence.
Finally, I heave a sigh and type the message.
Hayden: This isn’t a great idea.
Ada: Agreed.
Hayden: I shouldn’t have asked you to lunch.
Sounds better than, “Sometimes I act like a total asshole and forget the world isn’t all about what I want. Sorry.”
Ada: I shouldn’t have accepted.
I smile.
This isn’t helping. I keep liking her more and more with every interaction.
Hayden: Will email about site visit.
Part of me wants her to refuse. To tell me it’s not necessary. That we can still communicate like this.
I want her to rationalize it for the both of us.
So when she sends back,Good idea, I flip my phone over, irrationally angry at it. At myself for having pushed things this far.
When my phone steadfastly refuses to buzz, I stand up and put the rest of my sandwich in the refrigerator. Strolling over to the window, I look out from the 15th floor at the quiet before the storm of Monday morning.
It’s a big week for Angel, Inc. And it’s time for me to get my head out of the sand and do what needs to be done. I will not look at my phone. I will not continue to be distracted.
And I certainly will not fantasize about peeling off Doctor Flemming’s clothes and sinking deep inside her.
Nope. Definitely not.
15
Ada
“How was the rest of your weekend?”
