Insipid (5 page)

“Good morning, Ms. Richmond,” Leya greets me with her usual one liner before occupying the place next to mine at the conference table.

“Hi.”

“Psst!” she whispers entirely too loudly for my taste. “Where’s my friend and what did you do to her? The woman next to me is wearing leather pants and her nails are painted red.”

“Ugh. Too much? It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Too much for the men in this office. You look hot! I mean
caliente
!”

“Shhh!” I slap her arm playfully as other people file into the room.

“Hot guy alert!” Carissa from Finance says as she points to the men in the room across from my office. “Jade, you’re so lucky. Everyone on this floor is swooning over those guys. Especially the dark-haired one.”

“How old do you think he is, 30?” Mandy from the same department chimes in.

“Someone looked him up on LinkedIn. Very accomplished. He’s single too,” Tori from Operations declares with authority.

“How do you know that?” I ask, finding myself secretly miffed and defensive.

“Facebook!”

“Okay, okay. Settle down,” I say, biting my tongue from telling them to stay away from Lucas. “Sorry about that digression, folks. Whose meeting is this?” I inquire testily, eager to change the subject. Thank goodness that was enough to deflect everyone from that bizarre conversation.

The meeting lasts for forty-five painful minutes. The women in attendance all seem intent on watching the men in the conference room across from us. My insides are gloating at the fact that we share a secret no one can touch. And then I feel guilty about the women in this office who are single and available and desperately looking for love. Life is funny that way—the more you seek, the less you find.

After the meeting is over, I bring Leya over with me to meet him. Leigh has stepped out of the office to meet with people from another department.

“Lucas, meet Leya Markland. She’s our Director of Operations. Some of the statistics in those reports were prepared by her team.”

His eyes light up as he immediately saunters over to stand next to me. “Pleased to meet you, Leya.”

“Hi, Lucas. How is everything going?” For a few seconds, Leya actually turns on the charm and warmly reaches out to shake his hand.

“Everything went better than we expected. In fact, we’ll be wrapping up things by Friday.” I detect a tinge of sadness in his voice as he turns his attention towards me despite the fact that he is speaking to her.

“Oh. Well, not that I’ll be happy to see you go, but I’m glad that our proposal is acceptable to you. Have a safe trip home if I don’t speak to you again before Friday.”

I take hold of her elbow and lead her away from him. Leya pinches my arm as soon as we’re out of earshot.

“Oh my God!” she squeals. “That guy wants you. He was eye fucking you the whole time. You and your leather pants!”

“Ley. Stop. Aside from the fact that he’s young enough to be my son, he’s leaving in three days!”

“Stop with the exaggeration! You weren’t having children when you were nine, Jade. Oooh. He can be your Same Time Next Year guy!”

I shove her into the elevator before she could say another word and wave sweetly at her as the doors come to a close. I whip out my phone as soon as she’s gone and fire off a text to Lucas.

Jade:
Check your security settings on Facebook.

I LIVE FOR
the evenings alone with Lucas as our routine continues for the next few nights. Conversations over Cokes and chips under the sky and the stars, wrapped up in the warm Chicago breeze, with Lucas sitting next to me on a cement ledge outside the building somehow couldn’t be more perfect. Our personal interaction consists of little touches, tiny nudges, and penetrating gazes when a point needs to be made. To the outsider, it might come across as a little telling, but to us, it’s just what we’ve grown accustomed to.

“Did I tell you that I was engaged briefly?” he asks one soggy Wednesday night three days before his planned departure.

“No, you didn’t. What happened?”

“I cheated on her. I can’t seem to stay faithful to anyone. My travel brings about so much temptation and most of the time, I give in. I’m a shit, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I admit without looking at him.

His flippant demeanor disappears and his look turns serious. “Jade, why do you think some marriages don’t last?”

“I think it’s because people are constantly changing, forever growing,” I reply quickly. I know the answer to this one. “It takes a lot of work to keep in step with someone else.”

“What are your parents like?” He dips his hands into my bag of pretzels and crunches away.

“I’m an only child, so my parents are my world. My dad is my best friend. My mom keeps me grounded.”
That’s all the information I’m willing to divulge for now.

“How did you get so driven? Did you always know that you would devote your life to your career?”

I feel insulted, like a major loser. “Do I give you the impression that I don’t have a life outside of this?”

He touches my thigh lightly before casually stressing his point. “Jade. You’re here until midnight every day.”

“How do you know that it’s not only because you’re here?”
Did I really say that?
“What about you? There must be so much pressure on you to keep up with the business.”

“Yes, actually. The business skyrocketed prematurely, and I couldn’t handle the pressure to keep up. I’m better now, but for a while there, I was seeking out things to help me cope.”

“Things like what?”

“Drugs. Alcohol. Socially, of course, but still. I knew it would only keep me afloat for a while.” Lucas rolls the pretzel bag into a ball and shoots it straight into the trash can. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his pack of smokes, and hands me one.

We stay quiet for a few minutes, taking sips of our Coke, puffing on our cigarettes. He finally breaks the silence.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Am I crazy, or do you do your best to avoid flowers at all costs? Every time we walk across the street, you seem to avoid walking by the flower boxes on the sidewalk.”

“Allergies. I’m paranoid. I don’t want to get sick. They get pretty bad.”

“Ah.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me because he nods his head exaggeratedly.

“Now it’s my turn to say something.” I look at him with a pointed smirk on my face.

“Go for it,” he responds as he inhales a puff of smoke.

“You need to use more contractions in your sentences.” I let out a laugh as I nudge him with my elbow. “You sound so formal all the time.”

“I totally agree with you. And you would think that with all the traveling I do in this country, I would have picked up on your American slang by now,” he says, genuinely amused by my statement. “So you are going to be my teacher, okay?” He accentuates the word “are” to mock me.

“Okie dokie.” I follow this up with a wink. He throws his head back and laughs.

While we relish what’s left of our drinks and watch a flurry of cars drive past us on the bridge, the comfortable silence is back.

“So, you think that people can really outgrow love?” he asks suddenly, turning towards me with a serious look on his face.

“Life is a crazy combination of phases,” I say diplomatically. “We all go through different stages in life, and all handle them in many ways. Some people can handle the bullshit and some emerge from it wounded and scarred. As people change, their feelings change too. Sometimes, love doesn’t survive that war. Sometimes, it dies. Food for thought, Lucas.”

“Words of experience, I’m assuming?”

“Yes. Something you have yet to learn.” Quick one-two punch. Just in case he forgets how young he is. Compared to me, that is.

“So much wisdom, Ms. Richmond,” he says with a laugh. “I’m going to ignore that last comment. Let’s go back to those scars. Are you ever going to open up to me about them?”

“Never!” I joke, leaning into him so that our shoulders are touching. “Hey, look, let’s have a contest. The one who can make the best smoke circles wins.”

THE NEXT DAY,
I decide to sneak in a run along the lakefront before going into the office. I have a monthly membership at a gym by the marina for locker and shower space on days that I run outside before work. The morning turns out to be a bit balmy, so I figure a quick four miler will be sufficient to help me let out some steam. I take a different path than most runners, running the back way along the water rather than the scenic route. My thin white tank top with a built in bra is almost still too hot to wear on a day like this. The last mile is grueling. It takes every bit of energy for me to soldier on despite being lost in my thoughts, enjoying my music. Even before I slow down for a walk, I hit the stop button on my Garmin watch, excited to see that I still made good time despite the slower pace. I cool down briskly, reminding myself that the earlier I get to work, the sooner I’ll be able to see him.

Him.
He
is standing right in front of me, wearing a gray sleeveless tech shirt and black running shorts, with a circle of sweat centered on his chest. We have the same neon-colored brand of shoes. It makes me laugh.

“I saw you out at the mile two marker but thought I would give you time to finish,” he starts. “How was it?”

“Bad. Those late nights at the office are taking a toll on me,” I reply jokingly. “Never mind the cigarettes. Are you heading back?”

“Do we have to? Can we cool down with a short walk? It’s only 7:30.”

“Sure.” We trudge on slowly along the cement path towards the starting point. I look around worriedly, prepared to turn the other way the minute we see someone from the office.

“Relax, we’re just running together.”
He reads my thoughts. How does he do that?

“I know,” I respond defensively, stopping in my tracks when a large group of birds blocks me from moving any further.

Lucas keeps going until he realizes that I’m no longer walking alongside him. He turns around with a questioning look, about to open his mouth to speak.

“Birds. I can’t,” I say, standing there helplessly. “Don’t shoo them this way, then they’ll all start flying towards me!” I shriek, backing away, terrified as he begins to approach me.

He circles around them until he’s back at the place where I stand. To my astonishment, he lifts me up and slings me over his shoulders, running through them and flapping his arms.

“Lucas! Put me down! What are you doing?” I giggle, bouncing up and down in his arms.

“I’m protecting you from the birds!” he reminds me as if this is totally normal, running and keeping a firm grip on my legs at the same time.

A flash of light sparks the corner of my upside down eye. “Luke! Did you just see that lightning? It’s going to rain! We’d better head back!” I cry, my words bouncing disjointedly as I’m jostled up and down. The birds are long gone but I’m still enclosed in his arms.

“First the birds and then the rain. Jade! Is there anything you aren’t afraid of?” He runs effortlessly for a few more feet and then stops to put me down. He looks around and turns to me seriously. “Okay, the coast is clear.”

The clouds choose that moment to open up and the raindrops fall like buckets of water. We’re soaked in a matter of seconds. For some reason, we find it extremely funny, bursting into laughter at the same time.

“So much for that!” He snags my hand and we run for what little shelter there is, the drinking fountain shed, which has a little awning that extends a few inches past the structure. I’m not surprised that there’s no one there. People must have sought more dependable refuge once the lightning started to hit.

“Look at my hair!” I exclaim, running my fingers through my thoroughly flat head.

“Jade. That’s not what I’m worried about,” he says as his eyes darken and his look changes. I follow the direction of his gaze to find my shirt soaked through and totally transparent.

“Oh my God, Luke!” I wrap both arms around my chest in embarrassment, but his eyes never move.

His hand gently reaches out to wipe the drops of water from my cheek, slowly trailing downwards towards my crossed arms. He bends his head down and growls provocatively in my ear, “I’m dying to touch you.”