Insipid (4 page)

I send him a text message.

Jade:
Hi. It’s Jade. Just wanted to let you know that I’ve left for the day. Have a good evening.

The phone dings back immediately.

Lucas:
Thanks for letting us know. Goodnight, Jade.

I ARRIVE AT
the office early the next day to prep for an all-day learning session about the new financial system our company is about to implement. No one is at the office when I arrive at 7:00 am, not even Noelle. I luxuriate in the silence of the before and after hours, when my mind is clear and unencumbered by the crazy events of each workday. With my door closed, I sift through my desk and search for the necessary files for review before the meeting. My mind is so filled with thoughts about the day’s presentation that at first I forget about our foreign visitors in the conference room next to me. Noelle reminds me about them with a phone call at 9:00 am to ask me whether we should be catering lunch for our guests. I instruct her to go ahead and arrange for their meals while they’re here and drop by the conference room on the way to my meeting.

“Good morning! How are you?” I greet, addressing Leigh, too shy to look in Lucas’ direction. All I notice is that he’s wearing slim dress pants that highlight his strong, long legs.

“Good morning, Jade,” Leigh answers while Lucas looks up from a blueberry muffin.

“I’m in a full day meeting, but please email or text if you need me. Noelle has you set for meals for the duration of your stay. I assume you’ll just continue reviewing the documents in the binders?”

“Yes, that’s what we intend to do for the next few days,” Leigh concurs.

Lucas continues to munch away on his muffin. His relaxed demeanor is in direct contrast to the nervous reaction I have towards him. I have to consciously steer my eyes away, determined not to look in his direction.

“Okay, well, have a great day, gentlemen.” I nod confidently before turning around to leave.

“Jade, wait up.” Lucas chases after me while frantically wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I might have questions for you tonight. May I just come to your office and discuss after your meeting?”

“Yes, of course. My meeting ends at six, so I’ll be free after then.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t want to keep you here too late,” he counters, running his hands through his hair.

“No worries. I’m normally here catching up on work after business hours,” I assure him, giving him a smile and walking away before I say anything more. I’m normally adept at separating business from personal feelings, but this time it feels unnatural to me; somehow my mouth wants to start rambling uncontrollably.

Nine hours later, Lucas shows up at my door carting two black binders in his arms. He uses his free arm to knock softly on my wall to catch my attention.

“Hi, Jade. Is this a bad time? I can come back when you’re free.”

“Oh, no, this is fine. Would you like me to go to the conference room so I can answer Leigh’s questions as well?”

“Leigh’s gone for the day. His son is here visiting from school.”

“Oh. Okay. Please have a seat,” I offer as I stand up to join him at my conference table.

He leafs through the tabbed pages in one of the binders and opens it up to a specific page.

“This one,” he says, pointing. “How were the calculations made? Did we factor in the gross value of assets? Can we get a copy of those documents?”

“Yes, of course. Let me send that to you via email,” I suggest as I grab a pad and pen. “Let’s go through all your questions so I can send them all at the same time.”

We spend ninety minutes discussing methodology and results. He constantly challenges my inferences to a point where he begins to get on my nerves. Not that I’m fazed by his questioning—his analytical abilities actually impress me.
So young. So sure of himself. So black and white. No broken lines. I like his principled outlook.

Lucas writes a few more notes before gently pulling the binder away from my hands. “I think I’ve challenged you enough for one evening,” he states cockily.

“That was a challenge?” I chaff back in his face. “I thought it was a healthy discussion.”

He gets up to gather the binders and start his trek back to the conference room. “Thank you for your time.”

I shrug my shoulders, watch him strut away, and take a few steps to retrieve my coat. I’m not going to overanalyze his completely cool demeanor. Just as I walk out of my office, I notice him coming back in my direction.

“Hi again.” He smiles sheepishly. I feel the warmth coming back.

“Hi.”

“Peace offering,” he says softly, looking like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He finally keeps them busy by tucking them inside his pants pockets. He looks like a runway model striking an easygoing pose. “I wanted to know if you would like to grab a quick bite downstairs before you leave.”

“I’m not that hungry, but I was on the way to the Pantry across the street to get a pop.”

“A pop?” he asks, turning his head quizzically, as if I’ve just spoken some foreign jargon.

“Sorry. A soft drink.”

“That sounds good, is it okay if I join you?”

“Come on. I’m buying.” I tilt my head in the opposite direction, motioning for him to follow me. We take the elevator down in silence and he follows right behind me as I lead him towards the outside of the building.

It’s another perfect summer evening; the stars are out and there is no wind. Lucas and I sit on the lower steps of the building and share a bag of Cheetos while sipping our cans of Coke. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

“Smoke?” he offers.

“Sure,” I oblige as I take one from the pack.
What am I doing? I haven’t smoked in years.
“Do you smoke a lot, Lucas?”

“Actually, I don’t. This is my stress reliever. I’m a runner.”

“So am I! That’s funny. Does that mean we’re both stressed out?”

“Definitely. We have the perfect excuse to let go for a little bit.” He flashes me a smile as I lean over to him for a light.

LUCAS SHOWS UP
at my office at 8:00 pm every evening that week, coat in hand, ready for our nightly jaunt to the little grocery across the street. During the day, we act like colleagues, speaking to each other only about business, working on the merger proposal together. Leigh remains part of the team, acting more like the senior partner in this engagement and leaving Lucas on his own to ask the questions and draft the responses. We spend the evenings together as friends, but we share more than a Coke and a bag of chips. We share stories and experiences, with one cigarette quickly turning into two or three. He does most of the talking, I do most of the listening. Over the past few months, I’ve learned to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself. No one wants to hear about a lonely woman and her sad life, especially when it looks so perfect and fulfilled from the outside. Although I never forget the age difference between us, conversations with him are comfortable and easy.

“What’s your story, Lucas? How come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

He doesn’t answer me right away. Sometimes I think it’s because he translates his thoughts first into words and then into another language. “I’m still recovering from something that happened recently. I got in the middle of something against my better judgment.” I begin to sense a tinge of discomfort from the way that his body shifts in the opposite direction.

“What happened? You can tell me,” I say, before changing my mind. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I thought I was in love with a woman who was divorced from her husband. She ended up going back to him. I kind of knew how it would get resolved, but I jumped in anyway.”

“What was she like?”

“She was captivating; we hardly knew each other. I met her at a time when she was lost and alone. She’s actually the best friend of Leigh’s wife. He is very close to her. She remarried her husband last year and they just had their third child.”

I listen without any interruptions, nodding along as he waxes poetic about their relationship, watching him gesture with his hands as he speaks. After a few minutes, I notice that we’re both holding our cigarettes with orange powder caked on our fingers. I let out a laugh as I hold my fingers up to his face. He takes them and swipes them across his pants before doing the same thing to his.

“I’m sorry,” I say, to both his story and the fact that he now has orange streaks on his pants. I heedlessly reach over to brush the stains off—his thighs are rock solid.

There’s a peculiar silence between us before he quickly reaches over to take my hand. He lets it go as soon as he catches me glancing around uncomfortably, and continues the conversation with an air of nonchalance. “Don’t be,” he says bluntly. “That’s what life is all about. Leaping in against what seems like obvious odds against you. Taking chances. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I guess you have that luxury when you’re young.”

“Oh, here we go again. Why do you always attach age to everything?” He holds my gaze and silently challenges me not to look away. “Those eyes of yours. I can tell that there are things you want to share with me, Jade. They’re like pages of a book just waiting to be turned.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Life goes on and I’m living it the best way I can.” It’s time to make another attempt to change the subject as I try to avoid any eye contact with him. “Tell me about your family. How are they? How many siblings do you have?”

“I’m the oldest son in a family of four kids, two boys and two girls. My parents have been married forever. My dad drives my mom crazy; she’s much younger than he is.” He enunciates that last sentence before he continues on. “We’re a little bit more liberal I think, culturally, about love and marriage and free expression.”

“I’ve heard about that Latin/Spanish cultural macho male thing,” I tease.

He wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. “Don’t you forget it. Did you hear the one about us being the best lovers?”

I ARRIVE AT
the office Monday morning with a brand new haircut. My long hair has been trimmed and layered, and for the first time in forever, my nails are painted red. I also had a three-hour session with my stylist, which meant thousands of dollars in new and updated outfits. I justify my new efforts by thinking of him as a new friend, someone removed from my current life with a refreshing outside perspective. I hardly see Lucas during the day, but feel comforted with the knowledge of his close proximity to me. Things are going so well with the proposal that they think they might wrap up by the end of this second week. Whatever it is that’s happening now has a looming end date in my mind.

Lucky for me, my first meeting includes my close friend and co-worker, Leya Markland. A meeting with Leya is the best way to start the work week. We’ve been friends since I first started at Warner Consulting. She works in Operations, so we’re removed enough from each other to separate our personal and professional lives. We’re complete opposites in looks, but we share the same work ethic and devotion to the company. Leya is a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, creative, artsy, and casually alluring with a breezy personality, frank and honest and to the point. Her blonde hair, blue eyes, and height reflect her Nordic heritage, and I often feel so tiny standing next to her, even in high heels. Leya calls me out on everything including my brand name shoes, my purses, and the fact that I hardly repeat the same outfit twice. She keeps me honest. Maybe that’s why I’m afraid to bring her in on my latest secret.