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But I need privacy for this conversation. The last thing I need is one of Gage’s employees overhearing me in the bathroom.
I head back to my desk and then, since Gage is still at his lunch meeting, I slip into his office and close the door behind me.
I figure, under the circumstances, Gage will forgive me for using his space without permission.
I pull at my cell phone and call Tom, nervously pacing the room until he answers.
“Hey, Violet. What’s up?”
That’s when I realize I absolutely am not ready to tell Tom I’m pregnant. It’s too fresh. And I want to figure out what Gage and I are going to do before I start telling other people.
I think fast and lie my ass off. “Nothing much,” I say. “I just need some advice. About men. Specifically, my friend’s boyfriend.”
“...okay,” he says, sounding confused but game.
“A friend of a friend got pregnant, and she’s nervous about telling her boyfriend because he said he didn’t want kids the last time they talked about this. But guys can change their minds, right?” I chew my thumbnail nervously while I wait for his answer, something I haven’t done since I was a kid.
“Is your friend okay?” Tom asks, immediately focusing on the wrong part of my hypothetical scenario. “That’s a lot to be going through. Maybe you should be focusing less on predicting what her boyfriend’s going to say, and more on figuring out what kind of support she needs from you and her other friends if the guy turns out to be a dick.”
“Tom, focus. The boyfriend’s not a dick, he’s just, um...like Gage.”
“Gage?” he repeats incredulously.
“You know, great guy, great friend, but not necessarily someone who’s been interested in relationships, historically speaking. The kind of guy who would be a really, really, great dad, except he said he doesn’t want kids, so...” I pick up a small statue off Gage’s bookshelf absently. Then I spot the signature scratched into the statue’s base and realize it’s a priceless original from a very famous artist, and hastily set it down.
“Violet,” Tom says, his voice growing increasingly more concerned. “Who exactly is this friend of yours? And how much like Gageisthis boyfriend?”
“No one you know,” I say quickly. “Actually, this was silly. You obviously can’t give advice about someone you don’t know.” I force a laugh. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll let you go.”
I start to hang up.
“Hey Violet, where’s Gage right now?” he asks, a little too casual. “I, uh, need to return a book I borrowed.”
“Right now?” I ask, doubtfully. “That sounds like something that can wait until the next time you see him.”
“It’s a very important book,” Tom says. He’s being stubborn enough that I know there’s something else going on here. But there’s too much drama in my own life to get involved in whatever guy drama Tom and Gage are having right now.
“He’s got a business lunch at Fig and Olive,” I say. “But if you swing by the office and drop the book off with me, I can give it to him when he gets back.”
“Thanks,” he says. “And Violet? If you or your...friend...ever need anything, you know I’m in your corner, right? I’m here to help you with...anything that might be going on.”
I feel a rush of affection for Tom. He really is a good man. He’s going to make a great uncle.
I swallow past a bittersweet lump in my throat. “Thanks, Tom. I’ll, um, let her know that.”
I hang up before he can say something sweet that will make me spill out the whole messy story.
I look at the empty office surrounding me. Everything in it reminds me of Gage, from the expensive art and designer furniture to the piles of paper on his desk. It’s probably the place where he’s spent the vast majority of his adult life.
The question is, does he want something more? Or is he happy living 90% of his life in a gilded, corporate tower?
I’m a little scared of the answer. But talking to Tom reminded me that the only way I’m going to find out is to tell Gage the whole truth. And I need to do it sooner rather than later.
I leave Gage’s office and head back to my own office to think.
22
GAGE
