Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)(14)

“I thought he told Josh he had plans on Friday.” She raised an eyebrow as if she knew what I was about to say.

“Evidently I am the plans he had for Friday night.”

“Hell yes!” Monica cheered.

“Hell yes, indeed.” I let seduction paint my smile as we toasted our coffee cups.

When I went back to my bedroom after Monica left, I saw I had two missed texts from Bo.

Bo: Good morning.

Bo: I had a great time last night, thank you.

Even in his absence, my body reacted to him. I couldn’t form anything intelligent, or witty, but I didn’t want to be rude and not reply.

Me: You’re welcome-I had a great time too.

I needed to go for a run. I put on my shorts, tank, and shoes and headed out the door.

As I ran past the garage, which was closed on Sundays, I instinctively turned to the left to look. I nearly tripped and fell as I saw the exact pick-up truck in the same spot, engine running. Two bodies were inside, and one was as broad as I remembered Bill to be. I ran like hell and didn’t double-back; I took the long route, which allowed me to avoid the garage completely on my way back to my apartment. Why the garage? Why in the daylight? These were questions I shook from my head as I rounded the corner to my apartment and flew up the stairs. I wouldn’t tell Monica about this tomorrow at work because she might lose her head and call the police herself. I was exhausted by the time nightfall arrived, since my raging libido prevented a sound sleep the night before, so I drifted off early.

***

I shot out of bed with my alarm on Monday; I had dreamt of Adrian, and woke up feeling flustered. Monica had talked about Adrian Saturday night. My feelings for Bo were mixed with my relationship with Adrian, and it led to a weird mash-up of Finnegan’s, Princeton, and Adrian Turner inside my subconscious.

I hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since Adrian. In the four years since I had graduated college (five since I broke up with Adrian), I’d gone on dates and had sex, but never committed myself to anyone. There were never any strings attached. My parents would be so proud, which is funny, because they actually would be. They’re all about “free love”, despite the fact that they’ve been together since their freshman year of college. I suspect they have a rather open relationship but I’ve never asked.

The Monday morning routine came with its usual lackluster appeal. I loved my job, but I was beginning to think I loved hanging out at Finnegan’s with Bo even more. One week of distracted thinking couldn’t hurt. I headed into the office, grateful that it was Monica’s turn to pick up our lattes. Part of her job included speaking at fancy parties, with fancy people, to help garner donations for our non-profit. As a grant writer, I was in charge of securing large sums of money from private organizations, rich people, and the government. We were thrilled that, when we were seeking out new donors or partners, our work intersected.

Such was the case today. We were meeting with a representative from a New Hampshire-based drug prevention/ education group called DROP. The group’s name is “Drug Resistance Opportunity Program,” and seeks to empower children and adults facing drug abuse and addiction issues. While this was also a non-profit, and we wouldn’t actually be receiving donations from them, the purpose of the meeting today was to see if we could develop them as an alliance. The long-term goal was a community center that could serve the interests of both organizations.

Further, we wanted The Hope Foundation to set up offices up and down the New England seaboard; DROP had the same objective. An alliance would mean a larger resource base, both intellectual and financial - something no non-profit can afford to turn down.

Monica didn’t actually tell me about this meeting until Friday because I had been slammed all week with a new secured funding initiative, meaning I felt uncharacteristically unprepared to speak in public. She said all she knew was that DROP was two years old, they didn’t have a website (meaning our established internet presence would be a huge benefit for them), but they had at least two multi-million dollar backers (enter the main reason they’d be a huge asset to us). Our meeting today was intended for each side to present their strengths. It was meant to be casual, not competitive, and the goal was to see if our organizations would make a good fit for collaboration.

“Hey Mon.” I poked my head into her office, knowing she’d be there early to prepare for her presentation. Luckily, when I was working on the secured funding initiative last week, I had refreshed all the information I would need for today. My public speaking nerves were fully charged, however.

“Morning, Ember. Here’s your latte, Lady!” The perfect community educator, she’s incessantly bubbly and wonderful.

“You’re the best. By the way, *, thanks for talking about Adrian on Saturday. I dreamt about him last night.”

Monica’s skeptical eyebrow forced more explanation from me. “Nothing happened, he was just-there.” I flipped her the middle finger as I sipped my latte. “Anyway, what’s the name of the woman from DROP we’re meeting today?”

“Actually, it’s a man. We were supposed to meet with a David Bryson, but I had a message waiting for me this A-M that one of his partners, Spencer Cavanaugh, will be joining us. He’s one of the founders, so I’m officially freaking out. He’s going to come in for a meet-and-greet before the official meeting. And, yes, I know his last name must have you all hot and bothered, but keep your head on, will ya?” I’d smiled at the last name - she knew me too well.