I Do(n't)

I held my right hand up, as if taking a pledge. “I didn’t lie to you. She did stay over that night.”

“Oh.” Her brows arched, her mouth rounding to mimic her gasped word. “I guess I just thought that meant you guys were…” She shook her head. “Never mind. What you do in your time—and on your desk—is your business.” She tried to pull her foot from my lap, but I held on and refused to let it go.

“What do you think happened on my desk, Jelly?” I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow.

“I honestly have no idea, nor do I care to hear.”

“My button was stuck to her skirt.”

“Like I said, Holden…I don’t care. It’s none of my business. And I think you know me well enough to know I won’t tell Matthew about it, either. What you do here when he’s gone is on you. You both own this place, and—”

“She works here, Janelle.”

That seemed to stop her. After blinking a few times, she asked, “Veronica works here? What is she? Wait, no. You know, I said I’d stay out of it, but if we’re really friends, I feel like I should give you some advice. Take it or leave it, that’s up to you, but I strongly suggest you not get involved with people who work for you. Aside from it being messy, there’s a whole legal thing I’m sure you don’t want to deal with.”

“She’s the office assistant.”

“Regardless of what she is—” As if just now realizing the words we’d both spoken, she abruptly stopped and shook her head. “The office assistant? What happened to Ron…or Ronald, or whatever his name was? And does Christine know about her?”

“Yes. And Christine loves her very much.”

“Again…what happened to Ron?”

I smirked and leaned closer. “Janelle, do you mean Ronnie?” I waited for it to click in her head, but I apparently had to spell it out for her. “Veronica?”

Finally, with the added emphasis on that one syllable, Janelle got it. “Really? This whole time I’ve imagined an older, balding, fat guy named Ron. And that’s who it’s been all along? I feel bad for any girl you end up dating…having to worry about that sex kitten while you’re at work. Knowing at any point she could be in here, perched on your desk with your hand up her skirt…pretending your button got stuck.”

I held up my arm to show her the sleeve, which had thread hanging and an empty button hole. “It really was stuck. I had to rip it off in order to break away from her to come after you and my lunch.”

“Sounds tragic.” She seemed bored, but I told myself it was because she didn’t believe me. And I pretended she didn’t because she was jealous of Ronnie. And then I lied to myself and said I didn’t care if she was envious or not.

“Any woman I date never has to worry about me cheating on them with Ronnie.”

“Why? Are you that much of an asshole that you’d have her fired?”

“No. They just wouldn’t have to worry about that. If anything, I’d have to worry about Ronnie hitting on them.” When she turned her confused eyes at me, I couldn’t hold back the widening grin stretching my lips. It was time to end the charade of Ronnie and my pseudo-sexual relationship. “She very much prefers your gender.”

“Veronica? She likes women?” It was as if I could hear the wheels turning in her head. “But she slept in your room.”

“Yeah, like I said…high maintenance. Trish, her wife—significant other, better half, whatever you want to call her—has an issue with Ronnie’s spending habits and got mad over her purchasing a pair of shoes, so she came over to give Trish time to cool off. It’s happened more times than either of us cares to admit.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that? You let me believe you’d invited a woman over after we agreed we wouldn’t do that. We talked about it in the kitchen that night…so why not tell me then?”

“I was pissed, Janelle. You invited your future hubby into my home while I was gone, and I assumed—just like you did—that more happened. I didn’t go out of my way to get back at you, but I also didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe I almost broke my ankle to look like her,” she muttered under her breath.

I wanted to say something about that remark, to question her motivation, but I knew to leave it alone. It was none of my business why she wanted to emulate Ronnie, and any reason I could’ve come up with on my own only opened the door for hope. And that was something I couldn’t handle again. I’d lived with it on and off for a year or more after our night together in Vegas before I decided to get over it and move on. I couldn’t afford to have my insides twisted up like that again.

I was a numbers guy…I needed certainty, and questioning Janelle’s feelings toward me would never equal anything that concrete.

Knowing we needed to move on from the topic of Ronnie, I grabbed the bag of food and opened it to see what she’d picked up. We each took a container, and after I moved around the desk to sit in my office chair, we began to eat.

“The other night, you mentioned you wanted to be an event planner? I think I missed half that conversation, because I don’t understand what you meant by not being able to get hired anywhere.” I’d wanted to ask her additional questions when she’d brought the topic up, but it hadn’t felt like the right time. Not to mention, I’d spent most of my time around her pouting and acting like a wounded puppy.

“If I worked at one of the hotels in the area that offers that service, then I wouldn’t be able to open my own business in town due to the non-compete clause I’d have to sign. Not to mention, there are only two hotels around here that have space big enough to offer events.”

“Why can’t you just get hired by someone else?”

She swallowed her bite and then set down her fork, as if she needed all her energy to explain. “Event planning isn’t usually this big industry—unless you’re in New York City or a metropolitan capital like Los Angeles. In smaller areas, there isn’t much of a need. Aside from weddings, why would you need to hire someone? Think about it…a birthday party or graduation is something you can put together yourself. And most people do. Weddings are different because no one wants to be responsible for something going wrong, but nowadays, most of those are housed at hotels.”

“So what’s your plan? You want to start your own business? Even though you just admitted there’s no demand for it?” I thought about her explanation, and my stomach knotted up at the only plausible answer. “Or are you planning on moving to a big city?”

“Oh, no. I would never survive in a big city. I want to build a foundation here by simply offering what others don’t. Be unique and stand out, and make it possible for ordinary people to afford an event planner. Organizing any event is stressful, and I want to take the burden off a mother’s shoulders so she can enjoy her daughter’s sweet sixteen.”

“But I thought you just said those types of jobs aren’t available here.”

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