“Everything’s okay,” I said. A lie. Everything was not okay. “I, um… needed some time off.”
“Tell me the truth.” She sighed, dropping her gift bag in her lap.
“No.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Lincoln.” Claire crawled over and poked my ribs. “I’m your best friend. We have no secrets.”
I shoved a T-shirt into the bag, and the truth spilled out of me. “Elizabeth gave me a massage; then she left the room and wasn’t supposed to come back but she did, and I was busy taking off my pants…”
They gasped.
“Because the pants were uncomfortable!” I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “I was going to sleep, and I can’t sleep in jeans, but I don’t know how much she saw or what she’s thinking. I panicked, and she panicked, and I…”
There was a beat of silence before shrill laughter surrounded me.
“I hate both of you,” I said. “You tell me that I never open up, and now I’m opening up, and I don’t know what is and isn’t appropriate to share. That’s why it’s easier not to.”
“I, for one, am happy to know you get as flustered as I do when I have a crush,” Rose said as she composed herself, only to start giggling again.
Claire dropped her hands from her mouth. “Oh my goodness, wait, what? Backtrack. She was giving you a massage?”
“Uh, yeah. My back was hurting.” My face was hot and I was deeply uncomfortable, but a part of me, for the first time ever, wanted these two to weigh in. To help me make sense of… their own kind, I suppose. I don’t know what women want. I never cared but now… I did.
With this one woman, at least.
“So, you’re worried she saw your hobnob. That’s not so bad.” Rose lifted the oat cookie she was eating.
“I had underwear on, of course. Who doesn’t wear underwear?” I said, and that made everything worse.Did she see my boxer briefs?“She’s my intern.”
“Who willingly gave you a massage.” Claire folded her arms across her chest. “Unless you instructed her to do that, which would be creepy. Please say you didn’t do that.”
I grabbed an empty gift bag. “No. Of course not. She offered.” I inhaled a deep breath. “Because of my back. I think she felt guilty because she thought it was hurting after I’d carried her.”
Rose squeaked. “Carried?Lincoln Carden, go back, go back, go back.”
“What?” Claire’s jaw dropped. Had we been in a nineties cartoon, I’d have had to lift it up from the ground and reattach it.
“She fell.” I groaned. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. I’m going to resign. It’s fine. I don’t need that job. There are others.”
Rose laughed so much that she leaned against Claire for support. But it was no good because Claire was laughing too. I nearly joined in.
Claire cleared her throat and reached out to squeeze my arm. “Personally, I wouldn’t offer my boss a massage unless I was attracted to him or I was like… a masseuse or something.”
“She is a masseuse,” I replied, and pulled the paper gift bag over my head.
They may never stop laughing.
One of them pinched me. “Listen,” Rose said, “if she came back into the room, it means she wanted to see you, and that probably means she was looking at your face. I bet she didn’t see anything.”
Another pinch. This time softer. Must be Claire. “Lincoln, I swear, she’s not going to make a big deal out of it unless you get weird. Don’t get weird. Taking off work after that is a little weird.”
“I panicked, and I think it may have come across as mean.” I removed the paper bag so I could attempt to breathe.
Claire and Rose both sat with their arms crossed in front of me. “Apologize, then.”
