Nearly an hour later, Julie’s graceless brush with death was old news. Nico had cleaned her head—which looked worse than it actually was—and propped her up on a window seat at the half-lap mark around the track. The two eased into the groove of comfortable conversation, while Julie sipped on her second bottle of water from a straw.
To keep her awake, he playfully harped on her to rehash her obsession with clothing stains. That playfulness moved to the conversation from the gym and back to their double date and Derrick’s bombed proposal. Finally, as if there weren’t any other topic worth talking about, he finagled his way into Julie’s relationship history.
“I’m boring,” Julie conceded. Boring.
“Wow, that’s how he said it? He didn’t even have the decency to lie.”
“Nope. No sugar-coating. Just boring. That’s what he said…and I’m kind of starting to believe him.”
Nico took one look at her and refused to accept the invite to her pity party. “Me too,” he teased.
“Jerk.” She slapped his shoulder and immediately regretted it. “Ouch, damn. My hand.”
“I’m made of steel. That ought to teach you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Okay, Iron Man. Then, what’s your story, and what does Farfalla mean?” she asked.
Nico cracked his neck on both sides. “Another day. Today, it’s about you. We’ve got to keep you talking, to keep you from sleeping…and Farfalla is Italian for butterfly.” He leaned in and checked the bandage on Julie’s forehead, his fingers warm on her skin. “This is looking much better. Finally got the bleeding to let up.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. Her mind lingered on the duality of this rough, muscular man and the gentility in his name. When she thought of butterflies, hope, change, and life came to mind. Could he be the change she needed? Was she crazy for even thinking of Nico in terms of a future?
He stared at her for a beat too long, that devastating smile flashing at her. She looked away.
“I like this new look. It’s a drastic change, though. So, what brought it on?” he asked.
She refused to meet his gaze. “Thanks. I just…needed a change, you know? I wanted to do something different, if I’m going to make myself over.”
“I like it, but I liked it the other way, too. Why do you need to change?”
Because staying the same isn’t an option. Julie contemplated unloading everything about Patrick on him, but decided against it. “Why do you ask so many questions?” she retorted.
They laughed, but it didn’t deter him. He had to keep her talking, so everything was fair game. The strangest thing was, she didn’t mind talking to him. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she even liked the familiarity she felt just being with him. But, she couldn’t let him know that.
“Ok, so then if that’s off-limits, what about work? You said you had issues with your boss?”
“Shit, work.” Julie patted her arm for her phone, but it wasn’t there. “My phone.” She jolted upright, her eyes widening.
Nico held his palms up to her. “Relax. I held onto it for you,” he said, and slipped it from his pocket. “I wasn’t sure what her name was, or else, I would’ve texted her for you.”
Julie’s eyes shot up at him. This was exactly what bothered her most about him. This concerned, thoughtful guy who put so much care into everything he did—he couldn’t be a player.
She took the phone and sent Elise a quick text to let her know what happened and that she’d be back in tomorrow. “Thanks again.” Her gaze fell on her fidgeting hands as she tried to answer his earlier question.
“I don’t even know where to start. I’ve just got to get out of there,” she confessed.
“This is your boss you’re talking about? What’s her deal? Was she always like this, or did something happen to set her off?” Nico asked.
“She used to be great. I really liked her…respected her, you know? We got along fine.” Julie adjusted the towel behind her head and shifted into a more agreeable position for her achy back.
Nico’s face twisted into a bold question mark. “And then?”
Julie took another sip of water before she answered. “I told her I wanted to apply for an open management position at this branch right by my condo.”
“That’ll do it every time.” He threw his hands up and rested his case.
“Now she’s got me signed up for this community thing next week at the same time the interviews are going on. Kid Savers is great, but I’m thinking about skipping out early one day to interview.”
Nico sat up. “Wait, which bank are you with again?”
“Regions West, why?”
Excitement seemed to buzz over him. “Next week, you said?”
Julie nodded and winced as a sharp pain gripped her head.
He leaned back against the wall, lowering his lids as a satisfied grin crept at the corners of his mouth.
Ever since she’d met Nico, he had found a way to keep showing up in her life. At the rate things were going, Julie wondered whether she ought to keep fighting it, or go along with the plan the universe seemed content to unleash on her.
The next day, Julie’s phone pinged beneath her desk and she rushed to put it on vibrate. She didn’t want to give Elise any more ammunition by breaking the cell phone policy.
She held the phone low under her desk as she scanned the branch for customers. Surprisingly, for a Thursday before the Memorial holiday, it was slow, save for the regulars and a few non-customers cashing checks at the teller line.
By lunchtime, Julie had submitted her resume to five local banks, cleared all of her pending work, doodled her way through the Kid Saver conference call, and still had enough spare time to clean out her in-box.
When the main phone line rang two times, Julie watched as Elise eyed the caller ID, picked it up, and stealthily shut her door. She’d almost gone unnoticed as she strutted back to her desk, flitting her gaze over to Julie. But, Julie had long mastered the facade of looking busy even when she wasn’t. She feigned intense concentration on her locked monitor until Elise rolled her chair backward into the corner of her office.
She must have figured that she was out of Julie’s view because her body seemed to loosen up, her right leg draped over her left, exposing her upper thigh in a suit skirt.
You’re not slick.
As Elise nestled the receiver between her ear and shoulder and settled into the seat of the chair with parted knees, Julie acted on her suspicion. Just to make sure the caller was who she thought it was, she glided her hand over to the phone keypad and pressed the call history button. Sure enough, the name Avery Beckstand flashed across the screen—Elise’s guilty pleasure.
Increasingly, over the past month, she’d noticed a direct correlation between the number of times his name showed up and the growing frequency of Elise’s alleged conference calls.
After each one, she’d come out short on breath and fanning herself, asking if anyone had moved the thermostat. Somehow, Julie couldn’t acquaint P&Ls with the flushed, sated expressions Elise made behind her closed glass door. Banking was many things, but steamy and sexy didn’t quite make the cut.
This particular conference looked as if it was going to be an epic one. Elise had already scooted low to the edge of the chair and though it might have been hard for anyone else to tell five minutes in, Julie had a prime view of what appeared to be a tremor of untamed pleasure. On that note, Julie estimated she had at least a good thirty minutes to an hour of uninterrupted time before Elise emerged. She slid her finger to the left to unlock the recent message from Liz.
Liz: Did you make it?
Julie: With five minutes to spare. btw the troll is at it with the phone sex again
To really emphasize their running joke, Julie texted a line of phallic eggplant emojis. The moment Julie had realized what Elise had been up to, she filled Liz on all the gritty details. They had laughed until it hurt thinking about how Elise tried her hardest to come off poised and put together, but failed miserably when it came to a good run of phone sex.
Liz: Nymph! Ew! Busted basic bitch. She’s so tragic. And um…I know ur at work. Did you make it to see Rita?
Julie: Oh you mean the woman who nearly ripped off my vag? Yes.
Liz: You needed to clear that bush. No man is going to wade through that forest just to get to your sweet spot.
Julie: For real, I’m hurt. We’re talking a whole other level painful. I could barely walk. This morning, Nico laughed at me…
Julie: Any word from D? Did he stop by?
Liz: Nico?
Julie: Dane’s backup. Can you believe him? Those assholes were conspiring behind my back.
Liz: And you just got that fresh Brazilian? Oh shit…
Heaven forbid Liz miss an opportunity to drag the conversation there. Almost immediately after her text, she sent a line of purple eggplants of her own. Julie couldn’t move her thumbs fast enough. Aside from the redness and sensitivity to the touch, Julie’s mind had wondered to how good it would feel to have Nico’s hands down there, blazing over her bare skin. She was crying laughing now, but had to call Liz on her shit.
Julie: Don’t oh shit me. You’re such a horn dog. So extra. And don’t overuse the eggplant.
Julie: I don’t even think he knows what a Brazilian wax is
Liz: Oh he knows what it is
Emojis popped up on Julie’s screen. Winking, wagging tongues. Another eggplant with a peach that looked alarmingly like an orange ass. And then, the three eclipses bubbled up on the left.
Naturally, as soon as Julie got to the good stuff, a clueless client needed help with the ATM. Despite the fact that the words “insert card here” and “please enter PIN number” were scrawled in English on the glowing screen, people continued to be confused by the options at the bottom of the screen, prompting users to change the language.
After Julie had explained that the default language was English, the slick-tongued silver-haired ballbuster cooled her heels and withdrew her forty dollars. All the way out the door, the lady cursed the complications of technology and a bank which, for some inexplicable reason, decided to meet the needs of its clients on a global level. Craziness.
Julie huffed in frustration and painfully waddled her way back to her desk, careful not to let her thighs and pants fabric rub hard against her newly raw flesh. On the way, she passed Elise’s office where she was still hot and heavy on her “conference call.” When she pulled her phone from her desk again, she about fell off her chair when she saw the two messages awaiting her.
Though she desperately wanted to read the second one first, she’d never been able to resist one of Liz’s gifs—a compulsion she deeply regretted the instant she opened it. Apparently, Liz had met with Rita, too, and Julie now had disturbing visual proof that she wished she could un-see.
With a renewed sense of urgency, Julie closed the picture of Liz’s hairless kitty, brushing off the temptation to send a pic of her own mewing red Sphynx cat. God she wished she could forego pants and panties altogether today. The fit was a tad looser, but more than anything, what she craved was ventilation.
Her finger hovered over the next message as she weighed her options.
On one hand, at what point had Nico managed to get his number into her phone? It could’ve been at Nona’s, or when she’d fallen at the gym and she was unconscious for however long after his chocolate eyes had hypnotized her. On the other, beside that minor mysterious detail, Julie hated her growing comfort level with Nico.
It was as if every minute she shared with him, she’d become increasingly aware of herself—aware of his proximity to her. The touch of his gentle rough hands on her arm. That adorable way his fluttery lashes seemed to take flight when he got angry. And oh, by the grace of the Lord of the heavens and seas, the way he smelled like an intoxicating combustion of lemons, soap, cotton, and earth.
There she had been practically dying on the dirty gym floor and all she could think of was how to maintain even a small semblance of dignity, enough not to rip off the man’s shirt and take him right there.
Julie opened the message.
Nico: Drinks tonight?