Page 24 of Man Flu

I’m not sure we’d ever make it a whole winter without snow, but you’re right about breaking the seal. Though, I do love the first snowfall, but only the first snowfall. Cora gets so excited. I forgot what it felt like to be in the snow as a child until she reminded me. I wish Cora were feeling better so she could enjoy the snow. “Or, at least at the beginning when it’s white. I’m not a big fan of the brown and gray hues it takes on after a day or so.”

“Fair point.” We make it over to Logan’s truck. Now, seeing it up close, it looks new and expensive, which reminds me that he doesn’t financially need the temp position for our magazine. He’s filling his time.

I open the passenger side door and look up about three feet to where I’m supposed to climb in. You gotta be kidding me. “I’m right behind you,” Logan says. “I know. I’m an asshole.”

I’m speechless and the unexpected touch of his hands on my hips makes me screech as he lifts me up effortlessly like I weigh no more than a feather. I’m now ducking into the cab of his truck and taking a seat on a polished leather seat that smells like a combination of shampoo and cologne. I shouldn’t be in here. He shouldn’t have just lifted me into his truck. I’m his boss. Why doesn’t he care about this? Why do I have to care about this?

I can answer my question.

He doesn’t need this job.

I’d have to be the one to fire him.

Without giving Logan more than a second to settle into his seat, I twist toward him and sweep my hair behind my ear. “What’s your deal?” I ask him.

He doesn’t seem surprised by my question. In fact, he presses his key into the ignition and turns the truck on without so much as flinching. I’m wondering if he even heard me. “What do you think my deal is?”

I absolutely love when people turn questions around on me. If I wanted to offer up that information, I would have done so. Obviously, I don’t know the answer or I wouldn’t have asked. Thoughts keep surfacing, but I shove them back down to where they belong because everything I want to know is still considered inappropriate. “I think you’re just bored.” It doesn’t come out as nice as I meant it to sound.

“Bored, huh? Left or right?”

“Left.”

“Yeah, I think you’re bored,” I unashamedly repeat.

“Could be,” he responds.

“How could you not be?” I can play this game, although, I’m pretty sure I’ll still lose.

“I think you’re bored too,” he says. I hope we’re talking about the feeling of boredom and not my personality.

“Bored isn’t an adjective I can describe myself as,” I tell him. “More like overworked and exhausted.”

“Same here, I guess,” he says. His response boggles me. How could he possibly be overworked and tired?

“Right,” I quip with a short chuckle.

“I should turn right?” he asks, jerking the truck into the right lane.

“No, no, I was agreeing, or actually not agreeing with you. I was being sarcastic.”

“Ah, is that what that was?” He glances over at me and flashes a quick, half smile. At the same moment, I come to realize my slow beating heart has the capability of different speeds. Who would have thought?

“I don’t understand your decisions,” I tell him. If I had all the money in the world, I’d stay at home all day in my pajamas and watch trash TV. It would be amazing.

“There are times when those who appear to have it all, feel as though they have nothing. I loved playing ball, don’t get me wrong, but there were many days when I told myself I’d kill to have a mindless desk job and know I wouldn’t wake up needing to down painkillers before sinking into a tub of ice cubes.”

I find myself enamored by his words and the way in which they casually slip off his tongue. I like that his past life and career aren’t this big secret. I’ve never considered the life of a person who uses their body to make a living, wearing it down to the point of pain every day. I can hardly handle an hour-long fitness class, never mind practicing baseball daily at this age. “I think I understand.”

“You think your life is challenging because you’re raising a daughter on your own while dealing with a broken heart.” He states this little fact, rather than asking or confirming. I can guess it’s thanks to my little outburst yesterday on the conference call.

“It’s challenging compared to other times of my life, yes.”

“Right or left?”

“Left, then take a U-turn, drive a mile, and pull off to the right. We missed the cafe.” I missed the cafe.

He shakes his head with another soft laugh. “Got it.”