"Yeah, we're good," I answered when I was anything but.
It's not like I hadn't thought about any of the things he was saying. I'd raised the same questions to myself over and over. I fought what I was feeling for so long and now that I've lowered my defenses, I wonder. Have I made a mistake?
"There's a reason why you asked me to go to this game, Sabrina. Just like there's a reason why your best friend back there doesn't know anything about what Saint has been up to. You know it's wrong and you want me to stop you."
"That's crazy," I angry whisper. "I invited you all here, because I thought the sports division would like to go to one of our client's games, and because Marisol and Kate are my friends. There were no other hidden meanings behind the invitation."
"You sure about that?"
"I'm sure."
After that I turned my head back towards the window and stared at the various cloud formations we were flying over. Playing every doubt Jason managed to dredge up over and over in my mind. After about ten minutes, he spoke again.
"I'm sorry. I'm just looking out for you."
"I know."
"I really like you, Sabrina. I have for a very long time. I didn't want to complicate our work relationship by starting anything serious, but I'm starting to see that may have been a mistake."
I turned my head back in disbelief.
"What?"
"You can't possibly think I would drive all the way to Brooklyn every Sunday just to teach you about football. I wanted to spend time with you outside of work, and I was using any excuse to do it."
"Why wouldn't you just ask me for a date?"
"I was being respectful of our work relationship. Like I said, I may have handled things wrong. But that's over now. I'm throwing my hat into the ring. I'm asking you to consider having a real and honest relationship with me. One where we grow our careers and our lives together in a true symbiotic way. One that you can tell your friends about. One that you can talk to your partner about work with. One that's going to last. One with me."
* * *
Saint didn't string together more than five sentences to me before dropping us off at the hotel. I've never seen him so annoyed. I'm starting to become paranoid. Wondering if by some magical way he knows all about Jason's confession to me. Of course he doesn't. But now that I've let Jason get into my head, I'm losing my grip on reality and questioning everything.
Gunslinger: Be downstairs at 7.
Me: Okay
Gunslinger: You're going to eat right?
Me: Yes
Gunslinger: What's with the one-word answers?
Me: Just tired
Gunslinger: I'll see you in an hour.
Dinner is at a five-star steak and seafood house. Everything is char-grilled over an open fire (not really sure how they do that), but it tastes really good and the room is beautiful. The restaurant has unique very long family styled tables that can seat up to five or six dinner parties depending on the size. The only thing I didn't care for was the moose head on the wall but I try my best to pretend as if it wasn't staring at me all night.
Jason stays close to me through dinner although we don't say much to each other. I didn't know what to really say after he threw down the gauntlet like that. It would have been nice to hear all of that a year ago, but now? Not so much.
Things have changed.
Saint is being his usual outgoing self. Flirting with waitresses. Ordering drinks. Graciously giving autographs to the line of people that seemed to recognize him. Yet through it all, I can feel him watching me carefully out of the corner of his eye.
When it's karaoke time, I'm ready to go back to my room and go to sleep. I don't feel like singing, but there was no way Marisol or bubbly Kate were ever going to go for that. They were in Texas, and they wanted to party.
Sam goes first. He's a quiet man. Married with two kids and he keeps to himself, but I could tell that this was a trip he couldn't wait to tell his buddies all about. He's oblivious to all of our drama and seems to genuinely enjoy the evening and Saint. His song selection is the old classic Hall & Oates song "Private Eyes." An appropriate selection for the evening.
