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“I got it…” I scoop it up before he has a chance to and put it in my trunk.
I’m about to say goodbye when he says, “Wait here.” He walks to his car, opens the door and grabs something from his center console.
He walks back over to me, and I can see in his hands that he has a package of wet wipes.
He stops merely inches away from me. “Give me your hands.” I look up into his eyes. I am lost for a while in the depths of his baby blues. I don’t make a move, so he prompts me again. “Emma, your hands...”
I shake myself out of my trance then raise my hands. They hover between us. Glen takes out a wipe and begins to clean the grease off my hands.
“Why do you have wet wipes in your car?”
A corner of his lips lifts in a half smile. “Believe it or not, Sophie was actually a very messy child. I learned to have wet wipes within reach at all times. I guess the habit just stuck and I continue doing it even though Sophie is all grown up and has left home.”
My heart warms. I like hearing him speak about his daughter with such fondness. I try to look into his face, but his eyes are on what he is doing. We are silent until he finishes cleaning my hands.
When he is done, I examine them. “Thank you.”
He shrugs and then we fall into an uncomfortable silence.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do, so I turn on my heels and walk back to my car.
I pull the door open and I’m about to get in when he calls after me, “Listen, I want to apologize for how I spoke to you at our last meeting.”
I’m taken aback. To say the last thing I expected from Glen was an apology would be a gross understatement. “I know you’re just doing your job and you’re trying to make sure thatMed-Fieldskeeps going… It’s just difficult for me because…well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll just try to be more civil.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate you saying that.”
He nods. “It’s the right thing to have done.”
I smile. “Anyway, I should be going.”
“Of course, but before you go, I wanted to ask…” His whole demeanor changes. He scratches his head and looks off into the distance. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s unsettling. “Ummm…would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
The way he says it, it’s pretty clear that he’s asking me out on a date.
I really don’t know why I do it. It’s almost as if my body is on autopilot when I say, “No.”
He looks like he’s just been slapped. I don’t even give him a chance to respond. I quickly climb back into my car and drive off, leaving him standing by the side of the road.
Wasn’t I just fantasizing about kissing him again? Why did I say no? I must be going crazy.
Oh my God! How embarrassing! I’m going to have to see him at work tomorrow. What am I going to say? What is he going to say?
What the hell is wrong with me? How do I keep getting myself into situations like this with Glen?
Argh!!!
Chapter Eight
Glen
How is it that Emma has succeeded in making me feel like a 13-year-old schoolboy all over again?
After that horrid night by the side of the road, I have been avoiding her like the plague. I know it’s childish, but I can’t believe I asked her out while she was standing in front of me in her pajamas and basically nothing underneath.
That’s right, I could tell.
I mean, it’s bad enough that I asked my daughter’s best friend and my employee out, but then she actually said no.
