Emma vs. The Tech Guy (7 page)

“Yeah, actually we’re doing pretty well,” he answered, looking back at the court.

Then, my expression dropped as I saw Guy walking over to us and heard Adam say, “Especially now that we’ve got Guy.”

“What? You invited him?”

“What’s the big deal? We need him. This year we could actually win.” Adam, spurred by his chance for victory, executed a moon walk and then an imaginary jump shot. It was hard not to love Adam and his carefree nature, and I didn’t want to ruin his mood. But as Guy approached, I noticed something awful.

“Oh my God, Adam! Why didn’t you tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Guy arrived with a dumb jock expression painted across his face.

“The shirt?” I said to Adam, with raised eyebrows.

Adam glanced to Guy and then back to me. When he spotted Jayne coming up behind me the light bulb finally went off.

“Oh, shit! I forgot,” Adam said.

It was too late, Jayne had reached the three of us and there was no way out. Jayne wasn’t ashamed of her armpit fetish and admitted it to us at one of Adam’s parties. Merely the site of a man’s armpit hairs drove Jayne wild with desire. She said it was the most masculine trait a man displays. I wasn’t so sure of that. Needless to say, we had an unwritten rule for out-of-office attire: no tank tops! Too bad Adam didn’t warn Guy about the pitfalls of showing off his
manhood
.

“Am I missing something?” Guy asked. He passed his gaze from me to Adam.

I took in a deep breath and held it, hoping Adam would shut Guy up.

“Naw, naw, naw, man. It’s all good. Let’s go practice those layups.” I loved how Adam could sound so unscholarly in a social setting, yet be so completely proficient in the English language.

“Hey-ey, Guy,” Jayne said. Her eyes were so fixated on Guy that my hair could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have noticed. She stepped between Adam and me, stopping inches from Guy. Her gaze travelled up and down his body as she took in the view. It was like he was a mink coat she was about to try on.

“I’m so excited you’re playing for our team,” she added, chest heaving.

Guy’s dumb-jock expression changed to grinning idiot with the knowledge that he was being treated as a piece of meat.
How can men like that?

“Thanks, Jayne. I’ll do my best,” Guy said.

The longer I stood there watching Jayne drool over Guy, the more I began to wonder if she was on to something. He did seem pretty masculine; hands on hips, dark hair peeking between bulging biceps and perfect pecs. Why did I suddenly feel like I’d just run the length of the court? I needed to get out of there.

“Well, we’ve got to get going,” I said louder than I meant to. My hand grasped Jayne’s wrist, and I yanked her along as I backed away.

“Bye, fellas.” She let out a whimpering cat noise before she joined me willingly. Then she gave one last look over her shoulder and sighed. “Can you believe that, Emma? I mean, I didn’t think Guy could get any hotter, and now this?”

Patting her shoulder, I decided being an enabler was better than trying to fight it. “Guess it was your lucky day, Jaynie girl.”

“Dreamy!” She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. I saw that her elation was fading, and we were in the clear.

“Now let’s go work out that energy, shall we?”

We met up with Emilia and chose treadmills to start—my idea. I’d solved tougher problems than encouraging Emilia and Jayne to get along, so I was determined to find some common ground. I figured I’d get the conversation going, then slip away to exercise alone. That would work for all of us.

Emilia had recently broken up with her boyfriend as well, so that was my best bet. If I could get them both involved in the time-honored tradition of male bashing, they wouldn’t even notice me leaving. After all, what a woman hasn’t had her heart crushed, or at least dented, by the opposite sex?

When it appeared as though Jayne had slipped into a trance on her machine, I wondered if she was thinking of her encounter with Guy.

“Speaking of armpits,” I said casually. “Bet Hank has a pretty good set on him, eh, Jaynie?”

“What did you just say?” Emilia asked.

I couldn’t tell if that was utter confusion on her face or disgust. It was like I offered her a salted tire for lunch. I shook my head and blinked letting her know not to go there.

“Yeah,” Jayne said. “He certainly was a manly man.”

At six-foot-four, two hundred fifty pounds, I had to agree.

“I do miss the big dope sometimes. I mean, he can’t help it if he’s an idiot,” Jayne said.

“Cliff’s an idiot too, but I don’t miss him,” Emilia said.

“When did you two split?” Jayne asked. It was just like her to put someone else’s problems before her own.

“Two weeks ago,” Emilia said.

I figured this would be the perfect time to make my departure and let them bond over their common heartbreak. I eased myself off the treadmill, pointed to a cluster of machines in the corner, and crept away.

Then I heard Jayne say, “Emma mentioned something about it when Hank and I split. Sorry to hear that.”

Ah, progress
. Feeling like the cat that ate Big Bird, I strode to the other side of the gym and sat at a machine. Keeping my arms toned was important, if not totally mandatory, but got more difficult over the years.
Men lift their beer cans to keep their arms from getting flabby, and I gotta do this
?

I rested my water bottle on the ground next to me and got into position when I heard a voice say, “You need to sit up straighter.”

I turned to my right to see who it was, but there was no one there. Then on the left, the same. Someone was messing with me. I immediately thought it was Adam. Again, I got into position, this time pausing to see if my prankster would surface.

“Not straight enough,” the voice came again.

Are you kidding me?
I released my hands and realized whose voice I had heard. “Guy?”

Stepping from behind my machine, Guy stood before me grinning. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t resist.”

“What are you doing here?”

“The guys are taking a break so I’m just walking around.”

“Oh,” was all I came up with.

“So, is Howard going to play in the tournament?” He rested an arm on the top of my machine, and I tried hard not to eye Jayne’s favorite feature.

“No … he’s not that into sports.”

Guy smirked. “Uh, doesn’t he sell sportswear?”

“So I guess he likes sports, he just doesn’t like to play them.”

“Hey, that’s cool. Nothing wrong with that. Howard’s a great guy.”

Why he was suddenly backpedaling I couldn’t figure out, but when I didn’t respond, he added, “You know, I wasn’t kidding about that machine, though. Can I show you?”

“I guess.”

I sat back on the seat and put my arms into position. “Like this?” I asked.

“Yeah, make sure your lower back doesn’t leave any space between you and the machine. Here. May I?” Guy put one hand on the back of the seat, then held the other in front of my stomach, indicating that he’d need to touch me there.

“Go head,” flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. Then Guy gently pushed on my stomach, nudging my body flush with the seat.
Why does this seem so wrong?
Maybe because my stomach caught fire, and then like a backdraft the flame swept up my body and to my cheeks. Since when did computer geeks have shoulders like that?
Shit, I forgot about that damn water polo!

“See, like that,” Guy said. He released me and backed away slightly. “Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable? You look a little red.”

I reminded myself to start breathing again.

“What? No.”
Because I’m so used to hot guys putting their hands on me, right?
“It’s a gym. I’m supposed to be sweating.”

“Oh, yeah.”

To be on the safe side, I changed the subject. “So, has Nannette given you the itinerary for the trade show?”

“Got it yesterday, but she said I should book my flight, and that she’d book our rooms,” he said.

“I think we get a discount that way. Just make sure—” Across the room I noticed Emilia and Jayne off the treadmills, deep into a heated discussion. Jayne’s arms were flying around so much I thought she was trying to start a flash mob.

“What’s wrong?” Guy asked.

Before I could answer, shouting and shoving ensued. I bolted to my girls.

“Hey. Hey!” I said, arriving on the scene. I tried to put myself in between them. “What’s going on?”

At first they just stood there, ignoring me and glaring at each other. Emilia’s ponytail was half pulled out, Jayne’s face was beet red. Guy stepped up, as well, but stood with his hands on his hips.

“C’mon,” I said, more commanding. “What happened? You guys were talking so politely when I left.” The two had exchanged
words
before, but their arguments had never gone to blows. I think Emilia was jealous of Jayne. Maybe it was my fault, since I spent less time with Emilia once I became friends with Jayne. And she didn’t expect Jayne to be tagging along on our gym time.

“Howard’s little sissy is a snob. That’s what’s the matter,” Jayne said.

“Did you say something to offend her, Emilia?” I asked her. Even though she was a nice girl, she did have to look down to talk to you. I wouldn’t put it past her to flat out insult Jayne behind my back.

“Well, you got her started back on this Hank business, and I was getting sick of hearing it. All I said was that the next time she gets a boyfriend, she could be a bit more selective.”

“Liar.” Jayne said.

“Then what did she say, Jayne?”

Jayne eyes fell to the ground.

When I looked back at Emilia she glanced away. “Emilia?”

“Fine,” Emilia said folding her arms. “I said Hank was like a gorilla with a lobotomy.”

I heard Guy snicker behind me, but thankfully I was mature enough not to respond. Well, at least my fear was greater than my sense of humor at that moment.

“Emilia,” I said in that disappointed, motherly tone. “Really? Would you please apologize so we can move on?”

Emilia took a couple of steps forward. “Jayne, I’m sorry your gorilla boyfriend got a lobotomy.”

Jayne lunged forward. “You bitch!” Obviously there were some unresolved Hank feelings still lingering in Jayne. Both Guy and I shoved our way between them. I’d never seen Jayne so worked up—over a girl, that is. She was generally more even-tempered and mellow. I think that’s why I enjoyed being around her. I pulled Jayne back, while Guy held off Emilia. So this was the kind of girl drama I missed out on in high school. I was better off with my back against the gym and my nose in a book.

“All right, we’re out of here,” I said. Grabbing Jayne by the arm, I turned her around and escorted her toward the door. Guy released his hold on Emilia and said something to her I couldn’t hear. When I checked back, I noticed Emilia’s anger melt, then turn to a smile within seconds. As if nothing had happened, the two were huddled in a lively conversation.
Did he flirt with every woman
?

Chapter 8

My to-do list couldn’t have been any longer, and that was exactly the way I liked it. If I had five things on my list, I’d probably get two done. But give me twenty-five things? You’d have twenty-four done by the end of the day. My engine was filled with pure adrenaline when I had a deadline or other motivating factor clipping at my heels. That’s why I loved this business. Am I a workaholic? Maybe, but I’d learned a long time ago that sitting on your ass gets you nothing. Except a flat ass, that is.

Arriving first in the office, I powered through emails, phone messages, and even gave final approval on two stories. Down time? That simply didn’t exist in magazine publishing. Once an issue of the magazine was out the front door, we all breathed a sigh of relief, but the next one was already barking at our back door like a son of a bitch. So instead of resting at a red light, it’s more like we slowed for the yellow, but then decided to floor through it.

When Jayne came in to the office, she skipped our usual morning check-in and ducked her head on the way to her office. I was already over what happened at the gym, but decided to take advantage of the extra work time Jayne’s absence allowed me. Besides, it would do her good to reflect on her behavior. Men shouldn’t turn us into cavewomen. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.

For about the hundredth time, I pulled up the new cover design layout and marveled at how my ideas and Mason’s designing genius came together for what I thought was the perfect representation of
New You
magazine. Sitting back in my chair, I savored the moment and listened to the soft rain brush against my office window. It was a light spring rain that I almost wished was a storm. It had caught me off guard since I hadn’t checked the weather report that morning.

I’d grown to love stormy weather, although because I’d lived in southern California my whole life, I didn’t get to enjoy it often. I thanked Doug Hensley for my fascination with storms. In return for my virginity, he turned my fear of thunder and lightning into amazement and wonder. One dreary autumn night, he took my shaky hand in his as he guided me out under the purple black sky. We walked toward the storm, talking and watching the beautiful electric streaks dance across the sky. Three months later he was suspended from school for selling pot brownies, put on probation, and sent to live with his uncle. I never heard from him again. Needless to say, I don’t often wonder
what might have been.

My gaze drifted to the adjoining wall where my first “Newlywed News” column hung in a frame. Sometimes I missed the simpler days of just writing, but I was thankful for the few stories I still wrote myself. Thoughts of my mother came to mind, and I took hold of the only connection I had to her. She had loved to write, as well—mostly poetry and short stories. I pictured the image that lived in my wallet. It showed a beautiful young woman sitting on a blanket on the grass. She wore pajamas, and her legs were crossed. One hand held back the hair that swept in the wind. Sunlight made her sandy-colored hair appear even lighter as she gazed toward the trees in our backyard, looking for inspiration. You can barely see the corner of a notepad in her lap.