Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(46)
I’m still cautious in my responses. “I’d be the perfect receptionist?” I don’t have anything against the position and I’m sure Trey is right that it will pay more than Bonnie’s, but I’m skeptical as to why he thinks I’d be a good fit. I can’t quit Bonnie’s after three days, but this job could be useful too. I'll be working with Bonnie forever in order to pay off all the money I owe my old apartment complex.
After eating one of the bright orange sweet potato fries from the bowl between us, he wipes his hands on the napkin and then returns it to his lap. “Yes, we know from your previous work you can multi-task, you’re good with people, keep calm under pressure, you've handled large sums of money. You’re perfect. I’m worried you’ll be too bored and I have no delusions you'll stay forever once you find something else, but any amount of time I can get you under our roof the better.”
The whole implication that Trey brought me to this cute, but semi fancy restaurant to offer me not some kind of love declaration, but a job at his company boils up and I release all the emotions over it as a laugh. Trey stops eating to stare at me and my bizarre behavior, but I don’t stop. It’s kind of freeing. Now I know. Whatever Trey and I had is over, but this could be a new start. One as friends and maybe coworkers.
I work to get control of myself before people start to look and begin to cut more of my steak. At least my nerves vanished. It will help me enjoy my meal without worrying there’s food in my teeth.
“Can I think about it over the weekend and let you know?” I ask.
“Sure,” Trey’s quick to respond and he relaxes probably happy with my answer. “The last girl quit a few days ago and I haven’t scheduled interviews yet. Interns are covering the area in shifts. They’re almost as bad as she was.”
I use his mention of the interns to ask about how the company is doing and turn the conversation away from anything serious. Like feelings, cat cups, or why he doesn’t want me like I so desperately want him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Aspen’s fingers move over her phone screen as we ride in the backseat of Licorice, the black Escalade driven by Jake.
“Mar and Amanda are going to meet us on the hill,” Aspen relays the information I assume she read from her text. “That's the best thing about them having to drive in. They always get there before us.”
Her brown eyes brighten a little with the declaration as she shoves the cell phone in her back pocket. Jake takes a turn a little quicker than normal and I’m forced to grab on to the door handle to stop myself from sliding across the leather seat.
“Drive slower, Jake. We don’t want to get there too early.” Aspen taps him on the shoulder in a playful gesture. She loops the long scarf around her neck and pulls on the end tightly. “Do you think it will snow this year?”
I look out my side window curious to what prompted her question. Everything looks normal as people walk the streets in the same thin fleece jackets they’ve been wearing the last few weeks. “Has it ever snowed in San Francisco?” I ask. A place without snow is still hard for me to comprehend. I’ve never had a winter without it.
Jake’s eyes find Aspen in the rearview mirror. “It’s happened before.” His small grin increases as we both watch Aspen’s eyes grow more and more worried.
She zips up her thick winter coat and stuffs the scarf inside of it. “What temperature would that happen at?”
“Snow?” I try my best not to laugh at the worry in her question. “Thirty-two degrees, but it’s like at least fifty degrees out there right now. So we’ll be okay, Aspen.” Jake lets out a snort at my words but is quick to cover it up.
“It’s way too cold to be outside in this weather. I’d invite everyone to the apartment, but it’s against the stupid rules,” she references the list of outrageous things she’s agreed to when she signed her lease. “You're going to freeze,” her voice rises as she takes in my outfit for today.
The dark green sweater and skinny jeans with tennis shoes should be fine, but I did pack the blue fleece I never gave back to Trey in case the temperature goes down. “I’m from upstate New York. This is spring or fall weather.”
“Spring or fall?” her tone increases until she’s a little shrill and I start to worry.
“Heck, some years this is summer weather.”
Licorice comes to a stop and Aspen opens her door with a stiff back to brace against the cold. “Well not where I come from. You’re all crazy.” She steps to the sidewalk and waits for me to join her. “We’ll all catch pneumonia by being out here today.”
We both wave to Jake as he drives away and I don’t comment on her irrational fears for the time being as we walk up the hill together. The morning fog has settled on the city and it’s not until I’m looking at it from this height that I realize how it’s one of my favorite aspects of living in San Francisco. Almost every morning a heavy cloud sits on top of the city making it feel a bit lazy compared to the hustle of New York. There’s a peaceful part to it all.
“Oh my God, Aspen, it isn’t that bad.” Marissa’s comments about Aspen's winter coat carry the last few feet in front of us as we get closer to the spot where they’ve laid out the red plaid blanket for us to eat on.