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He chuckles.
“It’s not funny, Essex. You need to get that attitude of yours in check.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to argue with you about that. I was rude to you, and for that I am sorry.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? I feel like I need to pat you down for weapons.”
“You shouldn’t do that. You’ll certainly find something you can’t handle.”
The smirk on his face told me what that something was.
He asks, “Do you accept my apology or are you going to keep deflecting?”
Are you going to continue stalking my lips, or hold eye contact with me like a normal human?That’s what I wanted to ask him since he’s tossing a question my way, but I digress.
“Yes, I accept.”
“Good. And you should never barge into my office like that again. I’m on million-dollar calls every day. I can’t have those kinds of interruptions.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say. “And you shouldn’t tear up greeting cards that people give to you out of the goodness of their hearts.”
“Understood. I did just apologize for that, by the way.”
“Oh. You’ve done so much crap to me, I didn’t know what you were apologizing for. Anyway, now that we’ve cleared that up—”
“It smells good in here,” he interrupts, right before I was going to talk him out of here. “What’s for dinner?”
“It’s nothing much,” I say, walking over to the kitchen counter, leaning against it, and crossing my arms. Now I know the key to dealing with Essex. Alcohol. With this wine inside of me, he’s easier to take. I’m not on edge like I typically am.
I narrow my eyes at him.
He’s looking at me, his hands still in his pockets. He asks, “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Yep. I’m—well, I had some wine, but I’m fine. I was just about to get another glass before you showed up and crashed my party. Where are you coming from all dressed up? I thought you didn’t work on the weekends.”
“I don’t. I—” he pauses. “My mother’s funeral was today.”
“Oh.”Crap…
I instantly feel horrible about our conversation from the time Essex showed up until now. There’s a time and a place, and had I known he was coming from his mother’s funeral, I wouldn’t have said all those things. And did he drive here straight from there? If so, why was my place the stop after something like that? Surely, he has family to be with.
Sobering up – well, not really because I’m not drunk, justrelaxed– I say, “Did you just leave from there?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Um…have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you take off your jacket, sit down for a minute and relax? I can fix you a plate if you would like some.”
“I would, and some wine too, please, if you haven’t drunk the whole bottle.”
“No, I haven’t drunk the whole bottle.”
