Of course, Baldwin didn’t help the cause. He responded snidely, “Yes. We have a lunch date at a place where they don’t serve dirty food.”
Drew looked to me, and his eyes conveyed what he didn’t say out loud to Baldwin. Then he turned and went back to his office, offering only, “Enjoy your clean food,” over his shoulder as he walked away.
I’d almost made it out of the office when Baldwin stopped to read my daily quote.
He turned to me. “Your clients like this sort of thing?”
I was defensive. “Yes. I put the same daily quote up on my website where people connect and disconnect for video-counseling sessions. Leaving people with an inspirational quote and a suggestion for giving more to their relationship is a positive reinforcement to my sessions.”
“I guess that depends on what you’re suggesting.”
I was confused at what he didn’t like about it, because I’d actually gotten the idea for daily quotes from one of his TA sessions back in college. I couldn’t imagine why he seemed disturbed by my utilizing it.
As I walked out the door, I stopped to reread my quote.
Drew.
I was going to kill him.
He’d modified.
Again.
I’d written:
It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.
Today, I’d like to say ___________________ to you, and show you I mean it.
He must have changed it while my door was closed. It now read:
It’s not what you do, it’s who you do it to.
Today, I’d like to do you. And I mean it.
Emerie
“I have a belated birthday present,” Baldwin said as we waited in the restaurant lobby for the hostess to finish seating the people ahead of us.
“You do?”
He smiled and nodded. “You have an interview for an adjunct position in two weeks. It’s only teaching one class, but it will get your foot in the door.”
“Oh my God, Baldwin!” Without thinking, I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a giant hug. “Thank you so much. That’s the—” I was about to say best gift I could have asked for this year, but then I remembered what Drew had given me and corrected myself. “That’s amazing. Thank you so much.”
The hostess came and sat us, and we spent the next hour chatting about work and the professor I’d be interviewing with. It was nice to catch up with Baldwin—I really did enjoy his company. I realized that over the last month, my frustration because of the feelings I had for him had begun to interfere with our friendship. It was time I moved past it and enjoyed what we had for what it was.
After we finished eating, the waiter cleared our lunch plates, and Baldwin ordered an espresso. He folded his hands on the table and moved the topic of conversation away from work.
“So you’re seeing the attorney you share space with?”
“No. That kiss you saw was the result of too many margaritas.”
Baldwin frowned, but nodded. “Well, that’s good. I’m not sure he’s the type of person you should be getting too involved with.”
“What does that mean?”
Yes, I was currently pissed off at Drew, and I planned to kick his ass when I returned to the office, but Baldwin wasn’t going to put him down when he didn’t even know him.
“He seems…I don’t know. Gauche.”
“He’s direct. Yes. And sometimes even a little crass. But he’s actually quite thoughtful once you get to know him.”
Baldwin studied my face. “Well, I’m glad there’s nothing between you. I’m protective of you. You know that.”
Funny, in the little time I’d known Drew, I actually felt like he was the one who was protective of me.
Drew’s door was closed when I returned to the office. I listened to make sure he wasn’t on a call and then flung it wide open.
“You are such an asshole!”
“I’ve been told that. How was your lunch with Professor Pompous?”
“Delicious,” I lied. My fancy hamburger wasn’t even that good.
“Baldwin read what you wrote on my whiteboard. You need to stop screwing with me.”
He grinned. “But it’s so much fun to screw with you. And you won’t let me screw you. So I have to get my rocks off somehow.”
“I’m sure he thinks I’m not being professional with my clients now.”
Drew shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell him I wrote it?”
“He doesn’t like you much already. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“I don’t give a shit what he thinks of me. Why do you care what he thinks of me?”
That was a very good question. One I didn’t have the answer for. “I just do.”
He stared at me. And then he began to rub that damn plump bottom lip with his thumb. “Wanna know what I think?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Drew walked around from behind his desk and leaned one hip against the front. “I think you like me. That’s why you care what that asshole thinks.”
“Right now I’m not liking you very much at all.”
His eyes dropped to my chest. “Part of you is liking me.” I looked down to find my nipples hard and erect. The damn things were practically poking through the silk of my blouse. Traitors.