“She does,” he said, but there was nothing more to his words. No wink and a nod. No knowing look.
“He’s just stressed about the…” Nicole let her voice trail off. No one seemed to want to say much about Wilco, but he was the undercurrent at Made Here these days. Wilco no longer worked here, but he managed to be omnipresent thanks to being unpredictable, and after a week of lying low it was pissing me off. I wanted to be on or I wanted to be off. I didn’t want this weird now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t middle ground. If we needed to lie low til the lawsuit was over, then we should just cool it completely.
I looked briefly at Bryan as he walked away. I turned back to Nicole, and saw she’d followed my gaze.
“Do you?” she asked, shifting her eyes down the hall. She didn’t have to finish the question for me to know what she meant. Do you like him?
“No. Of course not. I mean, not like that.”
She stood up and shut her door. “You’re blushing.”
I put a hand on my cheek. Stupid red cheeks. I didn’t say anything.
“Hey. It’s okay.”
I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all that wanting, hoping, falling. I picked up another tie clip and examined it as if it were a long-lost archaeological relic. “This one is nice too,” I added, doing my best to focus on everything except waiting for Bryan.
But that night, I was so tired of it all. Of waiting for a call. Of playing pretend. Of being so undefined. When Jill returned home from her performance of Les Mis, I was ready to slam my phone into the wall.
“Hi.” It came out like a strangled mutter, as I burrowed into a corner of the couch with my laptop, and its open tabs of spreadsheets.
“Why the long face, my little porcupine?”
“Just busy.”
“Lie.”
“No. It’s true. I have to get ready for my trip, and I have exams, and I have —”
Jill cut me off. “That’s all true, I’m sure. But I have a crazy hunch you’re a crabcake because you’re not getting your nightly action.”
I threw a pillow at her. She dodged it artfully.
“Do you have any idea how much that would have hurt?”
“Hardly at all?”
“Exactly. It would have hardly hurt at all,” she said as she plunked herself on the couch and wrapped an arm around me. “I was going to give you a hug, but that’s cheesy, and besides you need this instead.” She promptly wrapped me in a wrestling chokehold, and pretended to pin me down. “You know I have two older brothers so I know every wrestling move under the sun. Now, spill. Why hasn’t Hottie McCufflinks called you in a week?”
“His ex-business partner is following us,” I managed to say while trapped under Jill’s powerful arm. I wished my roommate didn’t work out so much. She was toned and tough.
She let go right away and sat up straight. “Seriously?”
I nodded.
“That sucks. Why? You guys don’t even do anything in public.”
“I know.” I sighed, then gave her the update on the scrutiny Made Here was under thanks to Kramer Wilco’s inability to keep his hands off a minor.
“Let’s kneecap him,” Jill said.
“I wish. I mean, not really. Then again, maybe it’s the universe telling me to stay away from Bryan, right? It’s been nothing but obstacles with him from day one. Maybe this is the latest sign. Besides, if the universe intends for us to be together, then it’ll happen when we’re not in this weird mentor-protege thing. Maybe I should shut it down for him right now.”
Jill rolled her eyes and huffed. “I don’t believe in signs. I believe in words, and action, and doing. And what you’re doing is sitting and waiting and that is one hundred percent unacceptable. Even if he has to lie low because of lawsuits or whatnot, and even if you have to play it safe, you are not allowed to mope.” She grabbed my phone, slid open the battery pack, and took out the battery.
My eyes widened. “Jill!”
She dropped the phone carcass on the couch, ran down the hall to her bedroom, then skipped into the living room five seconds later. I stood up, hands on my hips. “What did you do?”
“It’s hidden, and I’ll let you have it back when you prove yourself worthy. For now, you’re going out with me.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my room, then looked me up and down. “Put on some boots, grab a scarf, and let’s go.”
I pretended to be annoyed, but inside I was smiling. I was even happier when we wound up at the best twenty-four diner in Manhattan and ordered chocolate milkshakes and French fries and I didn’t have to check my phone once.
Jill grabbed the bill. As she was about to pay, I spotted an increasingly familiar face. But not a welcome one. Instinctively, I ducked, as beads of panic prickled across my skin.
“That’s him,” I whispered shakily. My stomach twisted, and I felt exposed. I was finding I didn’t enjoy being followed one bit. “Wilco.”
“The guy with the curly hair and long coat?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s creepy. I’m going to go talk to him.”
I looked up again, but stayed low in the booth, as if that would protect me from the line of fire. The trouble was, I had no idea what Wilco was capable of. Was he just trying to keep tabs on me? Or did he have other, less savory, notions in mind? “No. Jill, don’t.”
“We need to disarm him.”
I tried to grab her arm, but Jill rose quickly and walked over to Bryan’s former business partner. Wilco stood at the cash register, waiting for the hostess to seat him. I watched them carefully from the back of the booth. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but at one point Wilco held up his hands as if he were surrendering, then pushed them back into his pockets. It looked like he was touching something. Jill batted her eyes and said something that made him blush. Then she gave a flirty wave as he walked out.
Jill returned to the table. She didn’t seem rattled, but she was a good actress. She knew how to channel and conjure emotions. Meanwhile, I was a wreck and alarms were going off every minute inside me.
“What did you do?”
“I pretended I thought he was cute.”
“Eww. How did you do that?”
“I basically said, ‘Hey, I feel as if I’ve seen you around a lot.’ And then asked him a bunch of questions about himself, where he lived, as if I was into him. I think it threw him off. Because if you’re following people around, the last thing you want is someone to notice you, right?”