“Hey, doll.” Wayne swept over her with his gaze. There was something uncanny about that look. Even though Jo knew her hair was a mess, there were likely bags under her eyes, she was in a sweatshirt about four sizes too big, and Wayne had noted earlier that she “looked like hell,” he could still look at her as though she was the most magnificent creature he’d ever beheld.
“I really should figure out a pet name for you.” Jo gave him her own up-and-down. His sleeves were rolled, collar slightly unbuttoned. But his vest and pants were tailored to perfection, a sort of casual prestige that only men like Wayne could muster, even if it lacked a little of its usual magic. “You call me doll, so, how about. . .” She tapped her lips with a hum. “Ken?”
“Ken?” Wayne seemed startled.
“Yeah, you call me doll, like a Barbie Doll. Ken was her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” He arched his eyebrows.
Jo laughed at the idea, so loudly that she could hear her voice echoing in the hall. “No, Wayne, justno. Not like that. We covered all that, remember? I was just thinking of a male version for ‘doll’.”
Wayne slid his hands in his pockets, an endearing smile on his lips. “I rather like my name. I don’t think I want to take another man’s, even if it means a term of endearment from you.”
“Not Ken, then?”
“No.” He shook his head. “How about goofo?”
“Goo-what-now?” Just when she thought he couldn’t get any weirder.
“Goofo,” Wayne repeated, as though it would somehow make it more obvious. “Zelda Fitzgerald called Scott that, real romantic-like.”
She could only laugh.
“So goofo is a no?”
“Obviously.” Jo grinned at him. “Don’t really want anything ‘romantic-like.’”
“You’re the one who went there with boyfriend talk.”
Jo gave him a half-hearted roll of her eyes. “I guess we’ll have to keep looking.”
“I guess so.”
There was a brief moment where they just smiled at each other. Shoulders relaxed, as if forgetting the tension of the wish that loomed over them every waking moment now. “Thanks,” Jo mumbled. “I needed that.”
“Needed what?” He seemed genuinely confused, though a smile still tugged lazily at his lips, betraying him; he might have had a better idea than he let on.
Jo shook her head, dislodging the thoughts. She couldn't let herself get comfortable and forget what was on the line. Comfort would make her relax, and relaxing led to sloppiness. The weight of the stress on her shoulders was necessary right now. “Nothing. Anyway. . . What can I help you with? I doubt you came here to talk about goofo.”
“I didn’t.” He took a step in, finally, just enough to allow the door to mostly close behind him. “I wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“I was a bit of an ass.”
Jo could draw things out further, make him really say what he’d done wrong. Prove his remorse. But she knew sincerity when she heard it. So she just waved a hand through the air, as if clearing any negative thoughts or feelings from the space between them. “It happens. Don’t worry about it. We’re all under a lot of stress.”
“Speaking of. . .” Jo knew where Wayne was going just by his tone. He didn’t have to say anything further, but he did anyway. “When you’re done in here, I thought perhaps you may need to blow off some of a little steam.”
“And you’re offering your services?” The corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk despite herself. They hadn’t actually done anything since Paris (if you ignored heavy flirting now and then), and while the itch hadn’t turned into a full-blown ache for touch, Jo supposed she wouldn’t mind some physical companionship for an evening.
So, why wasn’t the idea more appealing?
“Only if you’d like to make use of those services, of course.” Wayne gave an almost lecherous wink.
“I’ll think about it,Ken.” She dragged out the pseudo pet name, knowing just what it’d do.
He gasped and stepped away, hand pressed to his chest in only semi-faux insult. Jo laughed at his offended stare, her mission accomplished. “Well, now you’ve ruined the mood,” Wayne huffed.
