CHAPTER 12

Elena

“Okay… I have something to tell you.”

“What?” Jorie demands.

“I met someone, and I want to get your advice on it, but I want to hear all about your doctor’s appointment first.”

Jorie rolls her eyes. “No. Tell me your thing first.”

I shake my head adamantly. “No, it’s not important. I only mentioned it to start off this lunch so I don’t chicken out later and decide not to tell you. So I’m outing myself, which will ensure you hold my feet to the fire later.”

Jorie just smirks. “You are so weird.”

Grinning, I nod enthusiastically. “Right? But it works for us.”

Her resounding laugh is from the belly. “Totally.”

The waiter arrives, then sets down two glasses of ice water along with two paper-wrapped straws. We’re regulars here at this establishment, so he knows we’ll be ready to order. I always get the chicken salad, and Jorie fluctuates between a ham and cheese panini or a Cobb salad.

She surprises me and the waiter when she says, “I’ll take the cheeseburger loaded, with extra fries on the side.”

When our server is out of sight, I lean across the table and whisper, “You know you can’t use your pregnancy to eat whatever you want, right?”

I get an exaggerated eye roll. “Yes, I know that, Mother. But I was a little too nauseated this morning to eat, and I’m starving now.”

“Morning sickness?” I ask with concern.

She shrugs. “Who knows? Just because it’s called morning sickness doesn’t mean it necessarily happens in the morning. But it can start occurring at around six weeks, which is exactly where I am, so I’m assuming that’s what it was. Which sucks. You know I’m such a sissy when I’m nauseated.”

“Poor baby,” I sympathize in a cooing voice. “Any other symptoms?”

Jorie being pregnant is fascinating since I’ve never had another friend go through this. Growing up and coming from a big family, I had always thought I would have a big family myself. Three, four, maybe five children. But since I’ve soured so much on what it takes to maintain a relationship, which isn’t necessary but can be important in having children, that dream has sort of waned.

“My boobs are a little sore,” Jorie says as she swirls her straw around in her ice water. “Have to keep reminding Walsh to be gentle with them.”

“Just smack him hard on the head. After a few times, he’ll remember.”

We share a laugh, then Jorie proceeds to fill me in on everything she learned at her doctor’s appointment earlier in the week. I’m fascinated when she explains her baby is the size of a pea, but at the end of the trimester, will be as big as a peach. The visual is helpful.

“So have you discussed names for the baby?” I ask.

I’ve got my own personal thoughts on it, but I expect they don’t want to hear they should name their child, whether it be a girl or boy, after its godmother Elena.

“We’ve been discussing names since I threw away my birth control pills in Paris,” Jorie says with a grin. “We both agree on the boy’s name. Josiah Aaron.”

My eyebrows slip upward. “It’s kind of biblical.”

“Weird, right? But we just started tossing names out of the blue. Weirdly, it sounded right to us both.”

I shrug. “Whatever floats your boat. Although I think you should give careful consideration to Elena.”

“For a boy’s name?” Jorie asks with one raised eyebrow.

I don’t answer her question, but rather blow her skepticism off with a wave of my hand.

“What about for a girl?” I stare pointedly, almost daring her to throw out the name Elena.

She knows that’s what I want, and she pointedly ignores me. “Walsh wants to name her Daenerys.”

I blink at Jory. Blink again. A few more times.

She just stares back.

“Wait… from Game of Thrones?” I ask incredulously.

Jorie grimaces in pain. “Yup.”

My chin pulls inward, and I shake my head. “I hope you nixed that.”

She snickers loudly, then leans across the table toward me. “He thinks it will be cute. We can call her Dany. He wants her crib to look like a dragon.”

“Your husband is twisted,” I drawl in disbelief. “What do you want if it’s a girl?”

Now is the time for her to seal our bond as best friends.

“Arya.”

I frown. Not Elena? Not even something reasonable.

“From Game of Thrones again?” I ask.

“Yup.”

“You are both entirely too weird for me.”

Jorie snickers and I laugh, having had our fun. I truly don’t care what she names the baby as long as he or she is happy and healthy.

After taking a sip of her water, Jorie gestures in a circular motion. “Okay, enough about baby names. Spill it on your stuff. What’s going on?”

I poke my straw up and down in my water, watching the ice cubes bob around. Where to begin? What to tell her without giving away too much?

“You’re stalling,” she presses.

I toss my straw down into the water, meeting her gaze. With a huff, I lean back in my chair and say, “Okay, fine… I’m sort of seeing someone.”

As expected, this gets Jorie’s attention. She shoots straight up in her chair, spine straight and eyes sparkling with interest. “Who?”

I give a wave of my hand. “No one you know.”

That, at least, is the technical truth. She didn’t know Benjamin when she saw him at her birthday party, and I doubt she knows him now.

“But that’s not important,” I continue before she can press me for details I don’t want to give just yet, especially since he’s a friend of Walsh’s. “See here’s the thing… well, he’s sort of piqued my interest.”

Jorie leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and putting her chin in the palm of one hand as she drawls dramatically. “Oh, do tell.”

Her dreamy, hopeful expression has commenced.

“Well, he’s the guy I hooked up with on the fantasy app at The Wicked Horse. Remember?”

She jerks in surprise. “Hot-wax guy?”

“Yeah, and well… we’ve been seeing each other pretty frequently since then. Mostly at the club, but he came out to my house last night.”

This completely gets Jorie’s attention because she knows me well. Her eyebrows shoot straight up. “You let a man come to your house? The notorious ‘I’m only in it for casual sex, and I’m a strong, independent woman who needs no one, hear me roar’ person?”

Shaking my head, I try to explain. “It’s not like that. He doesn’t ask me for anything. He doesn’t pull on me. In fact, I don’t think he needs anything from me, including sex. I mean, he wants it… but I don’t think he needs it. For some reason, that is so liberating.”

The expression on Jorie’s face transforms. It’s like a light bulb went off within her. She’s had an “aha” moment, which is why I decided to tell her a little bit about Benjamin. I knew she would eventually have some advice. “And that’s why you like him. Because he’s not showing any signs of codependency. He’s a little aloof with you, right? Now you’re even more intrigued by the man.”

I nod, knowing she’d understand because she gets me. “But I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For his true colors to come out. Part of me wonders if he’s pulling me in, making me drop my defenses, then, boom, before I even realize it, he’ll be ensconced on my recliner, eating my food and telling me he lost his job but he’ll find one soon.”

Okay, I’m confident Benjamin would never do that. He’s a neurosurgeon, for Pete’s sake, but still… There are many ways to manipulate a woman other than just monetarily bilking them.

“So what’s the problem?” Jorie asks, the confusion in her tone apparent. “I mean, you know the signs to look for. You know the losers. A lot of it usually has to do with socioeconomic background. The people who go to The Wicked Horse have money. I’m sure this guy you are seeing has money. You know he’s not going to try to use you like that.”

“I know,” I admit. “But it’s not always about money. It’s about the draw on me and the pressure to be responsible for their happiness. With men, that’s sometimes tied up in money and creature comforts. Other times, it extends to emotional manipulation. And yes, while I don’t think this man needs me for that, it doesn’t mean I won’t be preyed upon.”

Jorie leans forward with a serious expression. “You do realize not all men are like that, right? That there are some good men out there? Surely you can’t be that jaded.”

She makes a good point. With a sigh, I’m forced to admit it. “I do know that, Jorie. And I try not to be jaded. But it doesn’t mean I’m not scared.”

“Because you like this guy?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, on its face, all we really have is sex. Like great, phenomenal, mind-blowing, surreal sex. Which is all I ever thought I wanted, yet… I have to believe the reason it’s so good is because there’s an emotional connection. But how can that be? We don’t do anything but have sex.”

“But is that true? You just meet, have sex, and go on your way?”

I give a half shrug. “I mean, it started out that way. Lately, though, we’ve been talking more. We even have drinks before we… um… you know, do our thing.”

“Don’t overthink it,” she instructs. “Off the top of your head, what is it between you two that makes you think it’s more than just sex?”

I wish I knew. When I replay our conversations, nothing seems apparent. But then something strikes me. It’s not about words.

“I think it’s the way he looks at me. Like I’m an angel or something. Like I make him reconsider what he thought he knew to be true.”

Jorie reclines in her seat, crosses her arms over her chest, and nods. “There you go. Sometimes, it’s not about what is said, but about what isn’t said.”

“I’ve never been that to anyone. Not truly, I mean.”

“It sounds wonderful. Exciting. Thrilling.”

“Scary,” I add to her litany of positives.

“Maybe,” she says with a smile. “But has that ever stopped you from doing anything before?”

“Not really.”

“So ride it,” she suggests emphatically, then her tone turns suggestive. “Ride him. See where it goes.”

But I’ll keep my expectations way down, I think.

Because, in my experience, even though Jorie got me to admit not all men are the same, I tend to attract a certain type. I’m not going to hold out hope that Benjamin will be different.