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ItseemedthatAmeliaand I had experienced the last sunny day in April that afternoon when I’d told her about my divorce because for the rest of the month, it constantly rained. And as the clear water drops drizzled against my windows, we were forced to stay inside, waiting for the next momentary minutes of sunshine.
“How’s your knee feeling?” Amelia asked one morning toward the end of April. “I’ve heard that people with joint issues feel pain or discomfort whenever bad weather rolls in because of the air pressure difference.”
I peered at her over my coffee mug. “Feels the same as it always does.” Then I smirked, clutching dramatically at my knee under the table. “You really know how to make a man feel ancient, Amelia. The day I start predicting weather because of something I feel in my knees will be the day you can put me in a retirement home.”
“Pity. I already made some calls,” Amelia said, poking the tip of her tongue out of the right corner of her mouth. “Guess I’ll have to let them know you’re not ready yet.”
Swiping a hand playfully in the air at her, I cleared my throat before letting some of my insecurities slip past my lips. “You don’t think I’mthatold, right?” I tried to make my voice sound nonchalant, like I’d just asked her if she still preferred wheat toast to white, but my question still carried hesitance.
Thinking back to when I’d taken a long, hard look at myself in the mirror before my skiing accident, I wondered—if I did the same thing now, would I still look strong, virile? I hadn’t been kidding myself before, making sure to take note of the grays growing in my stubble and the slight softness to the muscles I’d worked hard to maintain. But I had still looked desirable, at least I thought I did—a man who hadn’t forgotten how to have fun and control the situation at the same time.
Lost in my own head, I didn’t realize Amelia was staring at me, seemingly trying to decipher what I wanted her to say. Her green eyes sparkled impishly and there was a lilt to her voice when she answered, “I’ve never met a man who has all that you do—confidence, money, and what I’m sure are truckloads of willing women—who cares what anyone thinks.”
Her initial words were enough to inflate my ego but then Amelia continued, “still, for the record…no. If the circumstances were different,Imight’ve been the one to give you my number at a bar.” I paused mid-crunch on my piece of toast and stared at her with wide eyes.
Amelia met my wondering gaze with a challengingly raised brow, almost daring me to tell her to further this line of thought. And I would have, if not for my earlier decision to take things slow with her. Standing and straightening up as best as I could with the use of my cane, I looked down at her and with a tight-lipped smile and replied, “Thanks, Red.”
It was more gruff than I meant for it to sound, like I was brushing off her advances, but this wasn’t the time. Without looking back over my shoulder, I concluded our cat-and-mouse game with, “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” leaving Amelia at the table in confusion.
Amelia
As the rainy afternoons of April bled into the sunny days of May, I struggled to make sense of my relationship with Josh. Ever since I learned he wasn’t with Laila anymore, I’d felt justified in being more open to his advances.
But then, when I had made one of my own, Josh had simply gone to his office. I’d tried again later, pointing out how good he looked in the black button-down he’d worn for a meeting at Collective Expectations, and all I’d gotten in return was another hint of a smile.
I felt utterly stupid at how he’d somehow managed to flip our roles, making me look more desperate than I was, when he was the one who had initially been so shameless. Despite how flippant I’d been with him, I still craved Josh in a way that was totally unprofessional, and now I was beginning to think he might have moved on.
When I finally got tired of wondering, and after a week of working up the courage to say something, I set down the dish I was drying and marched into his office. In my matching yoga pants and sports bra, I must have looked like I was coming to collect him for a stretching session, because Josh immediately rose from his desk with a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness.” He grinned. “My knee is starting to kill me.”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I’m actually not here for that, Josh. I’m here because I need you to know something and I need to hear what you have to say about it.”
He set his glasses down on his desk and gestured for me to continue, so I did, clasping my hands together. “As you know, I left a lot behind to come here and help you, and I don’t think I’d be completely wrong if I said that you didn’t really need me here.”
Josh interjected, “‘Course I do, Red.”
“But why?” I interrupted, voice near pleading. “I doubt it’s because you’re lonely, because I’ve heard your phone calls with Anthony about the ‘good old days’ when you could visit clubs. And it’s not because you need full-time care,obviously.”
My breath started coming more rapidly the more worked up I got, and I heaved out the truth before I could think better of it. “You used to look at me like…like I was someone special. And I guess I was stupid enough to believe that a man like you could feel that way about some twenty-something.” My eyes darted around his room in avoidance of his gaze and settled first on the calm, cream-colored walls decorated with serene naturescapes and then on the now intensely foreboding portrait of my client and his future ex-wife.
Their painted stares weighed me down, distracting me long enough for Josh to start making his way around his desk, one hand pressed precariously to the edge to help him keep his balance. “Amelia,” he said, calling out as I began to shuffle backward to escape the feeling that I’d stupidly bought into a fantasy created by Josh which I could never have. “Amelia, wait!”
Just as I was about to turn my back and run to the front door to save myself the embarrassment of being fired, there was a scuffling sound and a surprised yelp from Josh.
Instinct, muscle memory, or dumb luck made me swivel on my heel quickly enough to thrust my arms out and catch my client as he toppled into me. I’d shouldered Josh’s weight before but as he practically collapsed in my arms, I had barely enough time to do little more than soften the blow with my own body as we wobbled to the floor.
It was an inherently sexual position, Josh between my spread legs, holding himself up with his hands on either side of my head as he gingerly tried to stay off of his right knee. My stomach fluttered as I heaved in a breath, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control after I’d almost run from his office.
“Are you alright, Red?” Josh murmured softly, his brown eyes dancing over my face and softening at the sight of tears dotting my eyelashes.
“Yes,” I whispered back, certain that he would let me go now that I had almost caused him to undo all of our work with a simple fall. He didn’t respond verbally, only shifted so that there was more space between our bodies, making my heart sink even further.
After long moments of the two of us sharing the same breaths, Josh finally spoke. “Oh, my sweet, stubborn girl. You really think after these last few months of getting to know you that I don’t think you’re special anymore?”
I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat, cheeks burning at his affectionate tone. Josh chuckled to himself and shook his head, causing locks of his chestnut-colored hair tinged with gray to fall across his forehead. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Amelia. You and I both know, at least I hope you do, that you’re here because I like you.”
He sighed. “I had this dream right before we met about my perfect girl—what she looked like, her personality, everything. And I thought it was nothing more than a fantasy, a delusion I got in my middle age because I was past the point of love.”
My eyes widened as I recalled my own dreams of a man made for me, waiting for Josh to say what I hoped he would. He smiled gently, reaching one hand up to caress the side of my face delicately. “But here you are, Amelia.”
