Emma vs. The Tech Guy (19 page)

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Authors: Lia Fairchild

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor

BOOK: Emma vs. The Tech Guy
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“Are you okay? I mean, is something bothering you besides the fact that your staff is driving you to an early heart attack?”

He shook his head as a grin spread across his face. “I’m sorry, Emma. I know I overreacted. I’m not happy about how things have gone lately, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just, well, let’s just go over the list.”

“Did something happen that you’re not telling me?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Bill, I care about you.” The words came out so easily it surprised me. I’d never said anything like that to him before. “You can tell me if something’s going on.”

“No, I can’t, actually.”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing. I’d rather not say.”

My interest was piqued, but I didn’t want to invade his privacy. Still, I had a feeling he wanted to tell me. “Okay, but you know I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

He clasped his fingers across his lap and stared down at them. Then he viewed beyond me out into the office.

“You ever do something completely idiotic? And you know it’s stupid while you’re doing it, but you go ahead and do it anyway?”

I took in a quick breath. My heart pounded so loud in my chest I wondered if he heard it. Did he know something? Maybe that’s why he was so pissed. “Uh, maybe.” If this was coming out, at least he’d be the one to say it.

“Well, that’s what I did last night.” He leaned forward, elbows planted on the desk. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” That last sentence came out almost a whisper.

I let out a breath, relieved that he wasn’t referring to me, but growing more curious by the minute.

“What happened?” I scooted to the edge of my seat and whispered, “Bill, what did you do?”

“I took ….” He dropped his head and wagged it back and forth.

“What?”

His head snapped back up. “I took some damn Viagra last night!” Startled by his own outburst, he swiped a glance toward the office, and my head followed. No one seemed to be within earshot. We turned our attention back to each other. “It was a complete disaster. Eleanor never even came home. I was going to surprise her with a nice dinner and … well, you know.”

“What happened?” I asked, completely gripped.

“She got a call from her sister while she was out shopping. Our niece went into labor. Eleanor met them at the hospital and spent almost the entire night there. I sat home alone eating game hens with a flag pole in my lap that lasted about three hours.”

I absolutely could not hold back a snicker with the visual he implanted in my head. I covered my mouth and leaned back in my chair. “I’m sorry, Bill. I know it’s not funny.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “I guess it is kind of funny. Feels good to get that off my chest. But those stupid pills gave me headache that lasted all night, too!”

“Well, I think what you did was very sweet and romantic.”

“Eh.” He waved a hand at me. “Go grab the list so we can nail this sucker down.”

I got up to head back to my office, giggling at the thought of Bill eating dinner in his heightened state of arousal. “Yeah, and if anything
pops up
unexpectedly, we’ll be prepared.”

“Very funny,” he said.

 

Chapter 20

 

Team
New You
consisted of Bill, Adam, Guy, our business manager, Clive, who was about fifty pounds past adorably chunky, and a freelance writer named Eddie, who’d played high school basketball. Up until this year, he was the only one on the team who could dribble without letting the ball ricochet off his foot. Riding the pine was our sixth man, Marty. He’d be subbed in if one of our players was taken off the court on a stretcher.

Our opponent, DCS/PR, a company that had the first floor of our old building, might as well have been the Lakers. They’d beaten us every year since the tournament started about six years ago. Actually, I heard we once beat them in a forfeit. One of their players went into labor during the third quarter. That’s right. If her water hadn’t broken in the middle of the court, their team would have kicked our ass. The score was 13-2.

But this year we actually had a chance with the addition of Adam (his first year he had a broken wrist) and Guy, both of whom could handle a basketball almost as well as they handled women. That thought bounced around in my head for a moment, but I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I was familiar with the correlation between skill on the dance floor and in the bedroom, but maybe I’d discovered another key relation to male prowess.

I entered the gym with minutes to spare, but poked along like a dead man walking. The sound of multiple balls bouncing echoed as I stared straight ahead, attempting to avoid our players and the spectators. The running total of men I felt awkward around seemed to grow faster than the hair on Hank’s back. Looking at Guy was painful, uncomfortable, and frightening all at the same time. Now that I’d become Bill’s sex therapist, it was a tad strange seeing him, too. And nobody wants to see Marty in basketball shorts or Clive in a shirt that jumps back up every time he stretches it down past his belly.

There were seats only on one side of the court, so our employees had to sit alongside DCS employees. Some of their writers provided stories for
New You
, so I knew a few of them by face and others by name. But today we were enemies. Or at least that’s what Bill said. He wanted us focused on the game and cheering our team on.

“Emma!”

I scouted passed a couple of scatterings of people to find Nannette waving a bright green pom-pom at me and sitting next to Jayne, who looked mortified.

“Hey, ladies. Where’s everyone else?” I asked as I sat next to Jayne

“Ethan and Chelsea are over there,” Jayne said pointing down the aisle.

“What about Eleanor?” I asked.

“She’s still on baby duty,” Nannette answered and then shook one of the pom-poms for no apparent reason.

The reminder brought a smile to my lips, and I wondered how long it would be until I erased that image from my brain.

“Are you kidding me with that thing?” I said, pointing to Nannette’s festive accessories.

“Bill promised me donuts tomorrow if I cheered.”

“He didn’t offer me any friggin’ donuts,” Jayne said, with a crinkled brow.

“You know I’ll share,” Nannette said.

“I don’t need donuts, anyway. I’ve gotta get skinny for my wedding dress.”

Shit, I’d almost forgotten about that. Bill’s boner story really threw me off track. I didn’t dare analyze how something could be so hilarious and disturbing at the same time.

“So you said yes?”

“Well, not officially. We’re going to dinner tomorrow night, and he’s expecting an answer.”

The referee blew the whistle for the start of the game, and about four people clapped. The fellas took their positions on the court. Adam jumped up and down a few times like he was Rocky Balboa. He kinked his neck from side to side. Then, since he was the tallest on our team, he shuffled over to the ref and an opposing player, where they’d jump for the starting ball. Guy stood behind him on the circle, but his head was turned to the side. It appeared he was scanning the crowd searching for something or someone. It couldn’t have been … yikes! He was looking right at me. My face grew hot with his eyes locked on mine. Was he intending to look for me, or was he randomly seeing who was here? After a few seconds the corners of his mouth turned up, and I couldn’t help but mimic him.

The whistle blew and, like a grasshopper, Adam sprang up and flung the ball back to Guy, who was still looking at me. I flinched as it bounced off the side of his head. Bill yelled, “Guy! Get your head in the game,” and dove for the ball. It bounced off his fingertips and out of bounds. DCR ball.

After that monumental start, the guys somehow managed to match DCS shot for shot in the first quarter. I continued to keep an eye on the score as I subtly pried Jayne for some type of feedback on this whole Hank situation. Even if their relationship hadn’t been on again, off again, and completely beyond insanity, I still wouldn’t be sure if Hank was the right guy for Jayne. Or if she was even ready for marriage. It wasn’t that long ago that she was drooling over Guy and sexting with a senior citizen. That doesn’t speak of love and commitment.

“So, whatever happened to Mr. Humphries?” I asked casually, pretending to be into the game.

“Oh, he was a nice old guy, but being with him really made me realize how much I missed Hank.”


Being
with him?” Nannette cringed and summoned her sucking-on-lemons face.

“Were you …
with
Mr. Humphries?” I asked before I could stop myself. Why did I need to know that? It wasn’t going to help me make a decision about their impending marriage and would leave a frightening visual to compete with the one I already had of Bill.

“Not that it’s any of your business.” She toggled between Nannette and me. “But no, Mr. Humphries and I never … well, we never did.”

We both let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

“But he wasn’t a bad kisser,” Jayne added, sending us reeling once again.

“Aww, man, Jayne, really?” Nannette said.

“What? He was sexy.”

“Can we change the subject, please? Look, we just took the lead.” Adam made a layup to send us up by two points.

“Speaking of sexy,” Jayne said staring at the court. “Did you see the new guy on the DCS team?” She gestured with her head to a tall blonde with possession of the ball. He looked more like a surfer than a ball player, but he made it back to his own basket with ease. After an expert fake to the left, he whizzed around Bill and made a jump shot right over Clive, who didn’t even try to block it. Poor Clive was so sweaty it was like he fell in a pool with his clothes on. It was almost half time, and anyone could see he wanted to sub out. Marty was still sitting on the side eating a banana and looking at his phone.

“Jaynie.” I tried to make my voice sound appalled. “You can’t talk like that anymore—you’re getting married.” Maybe she’d realized she wasn’t ready to give up her options yet.

Nannette’s phone rang and she excused herself to take the call. As she walked away, I couldn’t decide if this was my opportunity or my demise. I did want to help Jayne, but I wasn’t exactly Dr. Phil, and the pressure of giving her the wrong advice caused my heart to pound.

“Now that we have a minute,” Jayne said in a low tone. “What do you think of all this? I mean, we didn’t really get to talk earlier with all the excitement.”

“Well, I’m, uh.” Oh, yeah. Great start. “I’m really happy for you that Hank asked you.” That was such bullshit I wanted to kick my own ass. What a cop-out!

“And?” Jayne said aware of my obvious stalling.

“And ….” I stared into those earnest eyes, waiting for me to impart some wisdom. “And I just want you to be happy.” Maybe it really wasn’t a cop-out, after all. I needed to let myself off the hook. This wasn’t my decision, and being Jayne’s friend meant that I supported her choices. It was the only thing I knew for certain, so I went with it.

“Jaynie, nobody can tell you if Hank is the one. Nobody can tell you if you’re ready to get married
if
Hank is the one.” I was so damn proud of myself. This was brilliant! “But whatever you decide, I’m going to be right here by your side.”

That seemed to make her happy. She leaned forward and we embraced. “Thanks, honey,” she said softly in my ear. For a moment, I felt like I had a sister.
This must be what it feels like
, I thought to myself. She pulled back and showed me a toothy smile. “And of course I want you for my matron of honor.”

“I’d be honored,” I said. But my elation was tainted with guilt. There was still a huge lie standing between Jayne and me, but I couldn’t say anything then. How could I ruin her moment? Her engagement? Her life? What if she and Hank have kids and they want me to be the godmother? Hell, I could see myself taking this to the grave now.

The half-time whistle blew right as Nannette was heading back. We watched the second half of the game without talking. Guy glanced up into the stands from time to time, and I gave a supportive smile. He and Adam had been playing well together and scored most of the points. Eddie was more show than anything. He danced and tricked around the court as if he were a Harlem Globetrotter. Yet each time he attempted a shot, it either hit the backboard or bounced off the rim. Bill glared at him while Adam and Guy seemed to enjoy the chuckle that Eddie’s antics brought. With less than a minute left in the third quarter, Eddie almost tripped over his shoe laces and called time out. Only the ref didn’t see him because he was bent over next to Clive, who was in a similar position with his hands on his knees. He didn’t look well. So Eddie, thinking it was a time out, chucked the ball from half-court over to the hoop. The ball slipped in with a whispering whoosh, scoring us three points. We took the lead by two just before the clock ran out, and our guys went crazy.

My cell rang, and I almost didn’t want to miss seeing how the last quarter would play out. But it was Emilia, and since she was still in Chicago with Howard’s parents, I felt I should take it. I excused myself and headed to the door as I clicked onto the call.

“Hey, Emilia.”

“Emma, hi. Gotta sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” I headed over to a bench by the women’s locker room and took a seat.

“Are you at the gym?”

It was Tuesday and one of our regular workout nights. “Yeah, but I’m not working out. It’s our company’s basketball game.”

“Oh, right. Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads up about something.” Her voice was laced with some kind of uncertainty or hesitation.

“Okay.”

“It looks like my parents will be flying back with me on Thursday.”

“Wow, really?” And then it dawned on me that she was telling me and probably not Howard.

“Yeah, I finally convinced them, well, really dad, that they needed to take the first step.”

“I’m assuming you’re calling me because Howard doesn’t know.”

“Yep. I don’t want to give him time to get all, you know.”

“Defensive?”

“Yeah. Our parents are stubborn, but so is Howard. And if I do all this work and get their asses down there to apologize, I don’t want Howard to blow it.”

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