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I don’t intend for him to hear me, but it’s clear he does anyway. “Obviously, he was a fucking prick.”
I roll my eyes and then laugh. “Yeah.” I nod. “I guess he was.”
Brent was a prick, but he’s one of the relationships, well, relation-shits, that I prefer not to remember. A man who thinks half-dead roses and a bottle of Astroglide—because he felt my birthday was the exact day that I would want to give anal sex a try—are the perfect gifts for his girlfriend is the kind of man you choose to completely forget.
When Cap stands there for another ten seconds, still just looking at me, my stomach starts to churn. What is going on with him?
“Do you need something else?”
“What? Oh. No. I’m good.”
“Good,” I say, putting my head back down to the resumes I’m organizing.
Fifteen seconds later, I can still feel the weight of his stare.
This time, I look up and raise my eyebrows.
He startles. “Oh, right. I guess I’ll let you get back to it.”
I nod. Yes, please, let me get back to work, and you go back in your office and try to find a sense of normalcy again.
“So, we’re all set for Saturday, then?”
I laugh. “Yes. Just email me where to be, and I’ll be there. Now can I get back to my secondary assistant search, please?”
“Of course.” He smiles and points at my face with a couple finger guns and backs away, right smack into his office door—his closed office door. He chuckles, fumbles for the knob, and pushes it open while I look on dubiously. “Officially leaving you alone now.”
I look back down at the stack of resumes as he finally shuts the door behind him, but instead of focusing on the papers, all I can do is blink.
That was weird.
Like, really weird.
I pick up the resumes and stand up to walk over to the copy machine when I get an idea. I backtrack the five steps to my desk, grab my phone and a fax that needs to go out, and then head toward the machine.
After setting up the papers and typing in the number, I wait patiently as the thing does its job to send a file over to HawCom. I’ll do that first, before making copies of the possible assistant candidates’ resumes.
It’s obnoxiously thick, so I imagine it’ll take quite a while to complete—which is exactly what I’m after.
I look over my shoulder, just to make sure that Cap hasn’t appeared out of thin air and is now hovering behind me, even going so far as to spin around an entire 360 degrees.
Thankfully, my boss, the pod person, is nowhere in sight.
I lift up my phone, open up the text app, and type out a quick one.
Me: I need your help with something.
I wait impatiently as the little moving bubbles pop up to show he’s responding.
Kevin: Like…a law question? Cleaning your apartment? What are we talking here?
I tap my toe against the tiled floor as I type quickly.
Me: Male/female dynamics.
Kevin: Oh. Okay. Something simple, then.
Smartass.
Me: Shut up. It’s about my boss. And me. I don’t know. It’s complicated.
Kevin: Well, that really tells me a lot. I should be of great service to you.
I shake my phone as though it’s Kevin’s neck.
Me: WHY ARE WE FRIENDS?
Kevin: Fine. Relax, geez. What kind of “dynamics” do you need help sorting out between you and your boss?
Me: He just invited me to a work function.
Kevin: And…you think he’s not paying you enough for your internship?
Me: No! Jesus! WOULD YOU FOCUS, PLEASE?
I glance around the office again, just to make sure Cap hasn’t popped up unexpectedly. With the coast clear, I open Kevin’s next message and read as quickly as I can.
Kevin: What’s the big deal? You work for him. Plus, if it’s a work function for his law firm, maybe you’ll meet some other lawyers…or judges, for that matter. It’s always good to have an in with judges.
Jesus. He makes it all sound so simple, but he wasn’t the one who just thought his boss was possibly having a stroke because he stopped speaking English.
Me: I don’t know. He was just…weird about it. And, like, it’s happening on a Saturday night…
Kevin: Weird how?
Me: I don’t know. He was kind of bumbly. And kept staring at me. And wouldn’t leave right away after he asked me.
Kevin: What kind of function is it?
Me: “A party.” He said nothing else.
Kevin: My guess?
Finally, he’s going to give me information I actually need.
Me: YES. For the love of God, why do you think I’m texting you?
Kevin: Work function or not, he’s probably considering it an actual date, and he was staring at you because he was picturing you naked.
I startle at his words, and I almost drop the fucking phone. It’s like the first moment I met Cap all over again, except this time, I’m the one who’s supposedly naked and not Sergio and Catarina.
