Her honesty if refreshing. I also didn’t think it was that obvious. It seems my friends and family have gotten so used to how serious I have to be in my day to day, that they’ve forgotten there’s more to me than that. And sometimes, I forget myself.
“None taken.”
Her gaze moves past my shoulder in the direction of the kitchen where we were working. “You know, everything we went over could have been done on the phone.”
“I know.”
“Or in person. Inouroffice. But that would mean you’d have to actually come into the office.”
“I know,” I repeat, hoping she’ll drop it.
“Are you avoiding me, Mr. Ramos?”
The smile I was trying to hold back bursts onto my face.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing, it’s just that you called me?—”
“By your name, what’s the big deal?”
“Nothing.”
Dissatisfied with my response, she crosses her arms in front of her, shaking her head. “If it were nothing, you wouldn’t have a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.”
“It’s just that I like how my last name sounds coming from you, that’s all.”
“Better than Mr. Armani?”
This is torture. Here we are reminiscing about the night that’s been playing in my mind, and I hope hers, on repeat since it happened, yet it feels like we’re both skating around the invisible line drawn between us.
“Yes,” I confess. Although if I were being honest, I think I’d like the way anything she calls me sounds.
She takes a deep breath, and with the addition of newfound air to her lungs, it looks like she’s taking on the burden of all the words she’s choosing not to say in response.
“Is that all?”
A loaded question.
I should say yes. Technically, we covered everything we needed to. But I don’t want to say yes. I don’t want her to go.
Since my inability to articulate a sentence in a reasonable time when I’m around her has become my new norm, she interprets my silence as her cue to gather her belongings at the kitchen island. And once again, I follow after her.
“I’ll have everything we discussed ready by the end of next week.”
“Right.” I let out a pent-up breath. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“It works out perfectly that it’s not due right away, since I have to head to my sister’s impromptu bachelorette party tonight.”
“You sound thrilled.”
She lets out a sigh. “It’s not my sister’s fault, it’s just everything with her wedding —and my dad mainly— has been complicated.”
Knowing the little I do about her dad, I can only imagine. And I don’t pry past that. We walk in silence to the door and I can sense she has something else to add.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, anything.”
