“That's fucked.” He said it without heat, the same tone he'd use to tell me my mileage deductions were wrong. “You're going to collapse in the middle of the Valentine's rush and I'll have to find a new client. The paperwork alone.”
“Ah, don't forget the big wedding at the lodge this weekend. I'll be working Sunday on that bit of work. I'll sleep after that.”
“You'll sleep when you're dead, which at this rate will be Monday.” He picked up his coffee, took a sip. The pen started tapping again. “So. How's Jamie?”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” He nodded like I'd said something meaningful. “Descriptive. Evocative. Really paints a picture.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Something with an actual adjective in it. Happy. Miserable. Concerned about his apparent lack of self-preservation instincts, given that he's dating you.” The pen tapped faster. “Things going well?”
“They're fine.”
“You said that already.”
“Because it's true.”
Reid set down the pen. Finally. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and gave me the look that meant he was about to be insufferable.
“Holden. I'd like to think we're pretty good friends for guys who don't know how to do friendship well, so take this in the spirit which it is intended. I know when you're bullshitting me, and you're bullshitting me right now.” He tilted his head. “What's going on?”
I picked up the panini, tore off a piece, chewed without tasting it. Reid waited. He was good at waiting—better than me, which was annoying.
“The arrangement ends tomorrow,” I said. “After Valentine's Day. That was the deal.”
His eyebrows rose. “Arrangement.”
Shit. I hadn't meant to say that. I was really tired.
“It's complicated.”
“Clearly.” The pen was back in his hand, tapping against his palm now. “Are you telling me the relationship isn't real?”
“It started as—” I stopped. Tried again. “We had a deal. He needed help with his ex. I needed help at the shop. Three weeks, through Valentine's Day.”
“And now it's done.”
“Almost.”
Reid was quiet for a long moment. The pen went still.
“Okay,” he said. “So what happens tomorrow?”
“I don't know.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No.”
“Do you want it to continue?” When I didn't answer, he continued. “I'll take that as a yes.”
I thought about Jamie's arms around me in the back room, his voice sayingone more daylike the words hurt to speak. The wayneither of us had said anything after. The way I'd wanted to say everything and couldn't find the words.
“It's not that simple,” I said.
“It's exactly that fucking simple. You open your mouth. Words come out. You wait to see if he runs screaming.” Reid's voice was dry, but something shifted in his expression. “Look, I'm aware that I'm not exactly qualified to give relationship advice right now. Recently divorced. Currently figuring out how to date men at thirty-two, which is its own special humiliation. Last week I spent twenty minutes on a dating app trying to figure out what 'looking for something casual' actually means, and I still don't know.”
