AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watch a blackbird hop along the window ledge before it takes off and soars toward the park.
“I wanted to wish you happy birthday,” Lesley says.
I lean an elbow on the arm of my chair and rest my head on my hand. “My birthday’s tomorrow.”
“Oh… It’s the twenty-first, isn’t it? Shit.” She got the day wrong every year we were together.
“Yeah, but thanks anyway.” I wait for her to suggest hooking up again. Be strong, Kip.
“I wanted to tell you before someone else did,” she says. “I’m getting married.”
I go still. Then, slowly, I sit up. “Oh. Okay.”
“His name’s Harrison Ford—and no, it’s not the actor, they just share the name. He’s an architect, and we’re really happy together.”
“Congratulations.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean to say it like that. You make me nervous.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You always make me feel as if you’re going to tell me off.”
I lift my glasses onto my hair and massage the bridge of my nose. “I appreciate you letting me know, and I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
“Don’t be sarcastic. You were very special to me, Kip.Arevery special.”
“So special you moved to another country.”
“See, there you go again, telling me off. I wanted you to come with me. If you had, we’d still have been together.”
It’s pointless to argue with her. To remind her that she made the decision to take the job in Australia before discussing it with me. Our relationship was far from perfect, but I loved her—or I thought I did, anyway—and even if she didn’t exactly break my heart, she fractured it enough that it still bears the scar.
What is it about people trying to force my hand? I’m sick of it.
She clears her throat. “You wanna meet up? I’ve missed you.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
Jesus. She’s marrying another guy, and she wants to hook up with me. It’s the proverbial nail in the coffin. I feel a spike of dislike, and my fingers tighten on the phone.
“I’ve got to go,” I tell her. “It was great to hear from you. Good luck with the wedding.”
I slam the receiver onto the unit, then yell, “Fuck!” Leaning forward, I rest my head on the desk, then bang my forehead lightly.
There’s a long pause, and then my door opens, and someone comes in. I flop back in my chair and watch Marion walk across to the desk and place a cup of coffee in front of me. In her fifties, with graying wavy hair, she’s worked for me for five years. She’s the same age as my mother, but even though she does boss me around the same way all good PAs do, we get on very well.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Not really.”
“I’m supposed to tell you that you have an extremely important call coming from the UK,” she says, “that it might come at any time, and you can’t possibly leave the office until it happens.”
“You can tell my brother I’m not going anywhere,” I say wryly. “Despite the fact that Lesley wanted to hook up.”
“You said no?”
“I did.”
“Should I say well done?”
