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Rosalie:
Howdo you feel about that?
Jack:
Mostlyfine,Ithink.They’vebeen together for a while.Makessense.
Rosalie:
Good,I’mglad it’s not difficult for you.
Jack:
It’snot.It’smore weird than difficult, butI’lladjust.
Rosalie:
Ican imagine it would be weird, definitely.
Rosalie:
Ishould probably go.Ihave an earlyZoommeeting with the video production company to work out some key details about the shoot.Buttext me again, okay?
Rosalie:
Iliked hearing from you.
Jack:
Iwill.Sleepwell,Crawford.
Rosalie:
Night,Shephard.
Jackset the phone down on the bedside table, turned off the light, and fell asleep almost instantly.
Seventeen
Rosaliedropped down onto her couch in her quiet living room in her quiet apartment that looked out over the city.Itwas after nine, and she’d been going since seven that morning.Shewas beat.Herbrain felt like mush, and her body was tired.Herfeet ached from her heels, and her jaw was sore from talking.Ithad been a productive day—her favorite kind—but a long one, too.Normally,Carriewas more involved in some of the business meetings, but with the breakup still fresh, she was taking a little needed time to herself.Rosaliedidn’t begrudge her that, but it did mean that there was even more work on her andTrevor’splates than usual.
Shecounted to three in her head and then forced herself up off the couch, padding into her bedroom so she could change into leggings and a worn sweatshirt.Shepulled her hair up into a ponytail, washed her face, and then moved into the kitchen, where she pulled some soup out of the fridge, poured it into a bowl, and tossed it into the microwave.Shescrolled on her phone as she waited, deliberately ignoring her emails andSlacknotifications.Shewas done for the day.Totallydone.Allshe had capacity for was a couple episodes ofSeinfeld, maybe a chapter of her book.Thatwas it.
Atthe thought ofSeinfeld,Jackflitted to the top of her mind.Granted, he was never far from the top, always right there, beneath the surface.Andit should’ve scared her, how much she liked him after such a short amount of time.Truthbe told, it did, a little.Butthe excitement was bigger than the fear for once, as though it was swallowing it up, suffocating it.Snuffingit out like a candle deprived of oxygen.
Themicrowave beeped, and she took her soup back to the couch, setting it down on the coffee table to cool and putting on an episode of her favorite show.
Rosalie:
Importantquestion for you.
Jack:
Hitme.
Rosalie:
Isa hot dog a sandwich?
