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“So Charlie has slowed the pace a little?”
“Oh no, he’s as busy as ever. I have no idea where he finds the time or energy to get through everything on his plate. Makes me glad I’m not the one in charge.” I grin.
“If he’s still running wild, how is your schedule mellowing out?” Jen adjusts the settings on her machine.
“I’ve just figured out how to work with him. I’m getting a handle on what he wants to say and how he likes to say it, so the writing and review process is moving a lot faster. And as far as investor documents go, a lot of that just has to be tweaked to highlight what different funds are looking for, not built from scratch.”
“So does that mean you’re spending less time in the office?” Jen asks.
“Sort of. We still have our weekly meetings and I still go in most days because if I’m there I’ll focus on Engage, but if I’m home I might switch back and forth between that and other projects. It’s easier to keep track of my Engage hours in the office, but I’m probably only there for a few hours each day, if that.” I reach forward and grab my ankles to loosen up before class begins.
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of time to run into Charlie’s brother,” Jen hints as the instructor walks in the room.
“I’m not there for him,” I say evenly.
“Whoa, did something happen after the party?” she asks, concerned. “The way he was looking at you I thought sure you two would continue things on your own.”
The instructor tells the class to lay down on their machines and go through the traditional warm-up routine. I put my foot on the crossbar and start pointing and flexing my toes, loosening up my leg muscles. “I think you misinterpreted the look.”
Jen stops and turns on her side to look at me. “I did not misinterpret. He’s into you. What happened?” She lies back down and resumes her warm-up.
“Nothing. He drove me back to my car. He didn’t ask me out, didn’t even say goodnight, and I haven’t seen him since.” My voice sounds clipped, but since class is starting, Jen can’t dive into the meaning behind that, which is fine by me. I don’t want to discuss Chris anymore. I’m tired of trying to decipher him. That whole mysterious thing is overrated. I have better things to do than fret over the deeper meaning of what he said or how he looked at me. There probably isn’t a deeper meaning to fret over anyway.
I push hard in class, trying to relieve some of the tension that has built up over the past several weeks and pushing thoughts of Harper, Chris, and writing from my mind. The exercises that simultaneously stretch and strengthen my muscles make me feel relaxed and invigorated. As much as I love to sit and write all day, I need to take these times to get my body moving. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Pilates helps me sculpt my muscles without adding bulk, which makes me feel good about how I look.
As class wraps up and I start to gather my things Jen boxes me in.
“Don’t do that,” she says.
“Do what?” I feign ignorance.
“Shut him out.”
“Chris? Are you serious?” I scoff. “He shut me out, which is fine because I really shouldn’t risk a good thing by getting involved with the boss’s brother.”
“What if Chris is the good thing and you’re letting Charlie get in the way of it?”
“Chris would have to be interested for that to happen, and he’s the one who made it clear he’s not interested.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the door, Jen following closely behind me.
“He’s interested,” Jen objects. “Guys don’t stare at a woman the way he stared at you if they aren’t interested. And I think you’re interested, too, or you wouldn’t be so touchy about him.”
“I’m touchy about him because there’s really nothing there, and even if there was, pursuing it would be a bad idea,” I dismiss as we walk through the gym.
“Because of Charlie? Why would he care if you were interested in his brother?” Jen dodges a group of ladies headed toward the Pilates room.
“I don’t know if he would. But I don’t want to be just another notch on Chris’s bedpost and then have to live with seeing him all the time because of work.”
“Why would you be a bedpost notch? Is he some kind of player?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. He was on a date the first time I met him, and he said he gets fixed up a lot by his friend’s wife so, yes, it seems like he spends a lot of time with a number of women.”
Jen snorts. “Don’t get too hung up on the matchmaking. Those almost never work out, but that doesn’t stop the matchmakers from trying. Somebody obviously wants him to find the right one. They just don’t know how to pick for him.”
I chew on my lip, pondering this. Jen has a point. Maybe it's unfair to judge him on his prior dates. After all, besides that first night, I’ve never actually seen him on another date. I am, however, definitely not interested in being one of those dates when he clearly doesn’t want me as one. “I see your point, but that doesn’t change the fact that if he really is as interested as you say, then he had a chance to do something about that at the launch party, and he didn’t. So I’m not going to dwell on that. You shouldn’t, either.”
Jen studies me, seemingly unsure of what to say. Finally, she relents. “Okay. I still think you’re wrong about how he feels, but it’s your call. I won’t try to convince you otherwise.”
“Thank you.” I hug her. “Next class we’ll dissect your love life. Right now, I need to swing by the office to grab some papers.”
