A Cosmic Kind of Love(65)
Her slow clapping drew my head back down.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“What?” she frowned. “No! I’m clapping. I’m proud.”
“I usually consider slow clapping sarcastic.”
“I have a drink in one hand and a cell in the other. I can only slow clap.”
“Okay. Apologies. I accept your slow clapping. Thank you.”
She leaned into me, expression serious. “Hallie, your dad isn’t a bad guy. He’s just sort of clueless and self-involved. He’ll come around.”
“You think? He let me walk out without saying anything.”
“Sometimes when a person needs their head pulled out of their ass, it can be painful. It can take a while for them to process it, you know. Give him a minute.”
I nodded, hoping she was right.
“So.” She studied me again. “How are things going with Chris?”
The door to the restroom rattled. “Hey, why is this locked?” a voice called from the other side of the door.
“Shit. Let’s take this conversation outside.”
We got out of the restroom, ignoring the ferocious scowl of the woman who wanted in, and headed for the elevator. Making sure there was no one from our office around, I picked up our conversation as if we hadn’t stopped talking. “I am very confused about him,” I answered honestly. “He . . . uh . . . he friend-zoned me, but I’m getting mixed signals.”
“Take it from the top. Start with the friend-zoning.”
I explained to her what he’d said to me in his old apartment.
“And those were his exact words?” she asked as we got on the elevator and crowded into the back.
“Exact words.”
Althea frowned. “So what are the mixed signals?”
I told her what he’d said and done with George last night, pretending to be my boyfriend. Her eyes got rounder, filling with more and more delight as my story went on. By the time we got off the elevator, she grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, okay, I gotta meet this guy and shake his damn hand.”
“He’s pretty amazing.”
“Is that the mixed signal though? Because I would do that kind of thing for a friend I care about.”
I loved Althea’s blunt honesty, but sometimes it stung. “Right. Okay. Well, also, sometimes I think I catch him looking at me.”
“Looking at you, how?” Althea stopped at her desk.
“You’re ten minutes late,” Dominic said at us snippily as he marched past.
“Fuck you too, Dom,” Althea called out in a pleasant tone.
The surrounding staff tittered as Dominic almost collided with a wall. He glowered at Althea before hurrying down the hallway, out of sight.
“You need to watch out,” I warned her. “Please don’t get fired. You keep me sane.”
“I’m just sick of his bitchiness. Yesterday he kept listening to my phone calls and correcting everything I said to throw me off. I wanted to kill him. But I’ll do better,” she promised, sitting on her desk. “I’ll rise above. So continue. Chris looks at you, how?”
“Like he’s interested.” I squirmed in embarrassment. “I feel like there’s this tension between us.”
“But that could be because you like him.”
“You said you thought he was interested.”
“I did until he called you the best friend he ever had. That is straight up friend-zoning.” Seeing my destroyed expression, Althea reached for my hand. “It’s better to know that now, before your feelings grow any deeper. I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right. I let my stupid hopes get in the way again.” I squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. Always here for you. Hey, are you free this Friday night? Michelle and I are going to a new bar opening. We’d love for you to come.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You do that.”
I started to walk away and heard Althea call my name again. Turning toward her, I grew still at her expression.
“I’m proud of you, Hallie. It takes guts to do what you did last night.”
“I’m proud of you too. In fact, I’m going to start calling you my super-duper bestie.”
“You had to ruin it.” She sighed heavily and slumped into her chair.
“I’ve already ordered us T-shirts!” I called as I walked away, grinning. “And mugs! They have the words ‘You’re My Best-Tea!’ written on them! You’re gonna love it!”
“I’m gonna smash it!”
Our colleagues laughed with me as I strolled toward my office, feeling pretty lucky I had a friend who could make me feel grateful after the night I’d had.
* * *
“Knock knock.”
I looked toward the door; the phone pressed to my ear as Althea hovered on the threshold of my office. Holding up a finger to silence her, I listened to the estate manager at the Blenheim estate on Martha’s Vineyard try to talk me into a different date for Darcy Hawthorne’s wedding. “Oh, I understand you close for the season the weekend before the weekend we’re looking to book, but this date has a significance for Ms. Hawthorne and Mr. Lemieux, and they’re adamant about marrying then. We’ve looked at numerous venues, and after paying you a visit this weekend, Ms. Hawthorne has her heart set on Blenheim for their wedding—”