Iris shakes her head with a laugh as Janice fans herself as if it’s the hottest thing she’s ever heard.
“You just did,” Iris explains. “Don’t let this one bait you. She did it to me, too, when I went out with Hunter.”
My entire gut drops to the ground. Knowing someone you’re with dated others before you is fine, but being part of the conversation doesn’t feel good.
Janice nudges Iris. “Be good to this little sweetheart. Katie here thinks when you sleep with a guy, wedding bells will ring.”
“No, I don’t,” I say, but she doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Listen, honey, sex means nothing, and you shouldn’t assume anything. Some guys lose interest as soon as they get some, especially if they had to work hard for it,” Janice states matter-of-factly.
“Why do you have to make it sound so crude?” Iris playfully hits her hand.
Janice places her hand on her hip. “Because men are crude. They’re sex-brained maniacs who will leave you after two weeks and move on to the next able and willing warm body. Don’t get things twisted.”
“Not every guy is like that,” I defend the man species by not clumping them all together.
She tilts her head down at me in a condescending way. “So, you still have your fairy-tale bubble in place then? Don’t worry; Hunter Johnstone will pop”—she acts like she’s popping a bubble around my head with a needle—“that little bubble of yours, sweetheart. Just wait. It’s bound to happen. Two weeks, and he’s out!”
Iris and I meet eyes, and I’m stuck on what to say—not because I feel bad for her, but because I’m nervous about my own situation. Hunter always moves on after two weeks. And there I was, sleeping with him after only a week. Am I going to be like everyone else he’s dated?
“Don’t listen to her.” Iris waves her hand, shooing Janice away. “She’s just jealous.”
“Of course I am. He’s a total dish,” Janice explains. “All right, I have to get back to work. Good luck, sweetie.” She gives me a pat on the shoulder, as if I need the luck before a big game.
Janice’s loud and nosy self is out of the room quickly, but my thoughts are left as a pile of mush. I turn back to the coffeepot and pour Branson a cup. I fix it just the way he likes it—no milk and four sugars.
The room is quiet, but Iris’s presence on the other side is deafening. I wish she’d leave. Having my affairs aired in public is uncomfortable enough.
“Hey, don’t let Janice get you all worked up,” Iris says from behind me.
I shake my head indifferently. “It’s fine.”
“How long have you two been dating?”
I bite my lip. “A week. How long did you …”
“Does it matter?”
“No”—I shake my head and look down—“I guess not.”
“Can I offer you some advice?” she asks.
I want to reply no. But I don’t. I just look up with a pretend smile and wait for her unwanted guidance.
“Have fun.”
I flinch in surprise as those words are a thousand percent not what I thought would come out of her mouth. “Excuse me?”
She laughs as she tilts her head. “The first rule about dating Hunter Johnstone is to take his grand gestures with a pinch of salt. He’s not out to deceive. It’s just that his outgoing, optimistic, and enthusiastic nature makes him hard to resist, and he gets caught up in the moment even if the moment is fleeting.”
I have to smile, albeit awkwardly, because her assessment of him seems pretty spot-on. “You make him sound shallow.”
“He’s wicked and a hell of a good time. So, do yourself a favor and enjoy it. Ride it out, but remember what it is. A fling. Hunter is incapable of the long-term. He’s upfront about that.”
I nod my head and swallow. “That he is.”
She gives a friendly punch to my shoulder. “So, go get yours, girl. Enjoy the best sex of your life and toss it in the book of things you’ll fantasize about twenty years from now.”
Her light-headedness is the complete opposite of how I feel inside. I want to curl up in a corner with my cat and binge-watch Hallmark movies while I eat a pint of ice cream.
“Is that such a thing?” I say with a laugh.
“Of course it is.” Iris reaches out to touch my arm. “Listen, don’t let anyone pop that bubble of yours. Especially Janice. Obviously, there are men out there who stay with women for longer than two weeks. We just have to find them, is all.”
She gives a wink and then turns to walk away. I follow her out and make my way to Branson’s office, all the while trying not to fall down that rabbit hole of self-doubt anymore.
When I get there, Hunter is gone, and I’m left with my thoughts.
My very scattered thoughts.
I’m tapping my pen against my desk, staring into Branson’s office, waiting for him to leave. His car is already outside to take him to the gym, as it does every day after work.
I look at the time and blow out a breath. I really wanted to get to my own Pilates class, so I could be home in time to watch my Hallmark movies.
Finally, Branson gets up and grabs his coat. “Are you coming?” he asks as he walks past my desk.
I raise my brows. “Um, coming where?”
“To the club. I figured Hunter would have invited you. We play racquetball together on Mondays. Tonight is the playoff tournament.”
“No, he didn’t, but it’s okay. I’m heading to my own gym and then home.” I grab my coat.
“No, come on. Join us. Let’s surprise Hunter. He’ll get a kick out of it.”
I pull my ponytail over my collar. “No, I’ll see him later.”
“Come, love. It will be fun. You can even use the gym there as my guest. I hear the women’s locker room has a steam shower and sauna.”
I smash my lips together. My gym is nice, but it doesn’t have fancy amenities.
“You’re thinking about it.” He bows down and looks at me with a Cheshire cat grin.
Branson is never this playful. It’s adorable beyond measure.
I exhale and nod my head. “Okay.”
“Great.” He lifts my gym bag off the floor by the coat rack and places his hand on my back to guide me out of the office.
Branson’s car is waiting in the garage, and when he opens the door for me, a funny feeling runs through my body. For years, I wanted this, exactly what’s happening right now. I’m getting in Branson’s car, after work, to go somewhere with him that’s not work-related, yet I can’t understand what’s going on in my mind. I’m excited even though I know I shouldn’t be. I’m with Hunter. It might not be official, but I slept with the man, and I do not jump into bed with men willy-nilly.
“Everything okay, love?” Branson asks.
I jump, startled for some reason, and turn to him. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost forgot where I was. “Yeah. Sorry, just tired, I suppose.”
I smooth my outfit down my body, wiping my now-sweaty palms on my dress slacks. Branson widens his legs as he leans back in the seat.
“I missed you on Christmas Eve. We had a great time at the club,” he says.