Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,52
the window. I drew the thick comforter over myself, planning to rest my eyes, just for a moment, before changing into my pajamas.
It was my phone that woke me out of a deep slumber. I blinked. I’d left the lamp on, so it wasn’t dark, but it still took me a moment to remember where I was and how I’d gotten here. The Bee and Thistle Inn outside Ennis.
I listened for a moment, but the rain and wind had stopped, and only the muted sound of the party below and the chime of my phone interrupted the quiet. I checked the clock as I grabbed my phone. It was just after eleven.
I glanced at the display. It was a text from Jason. I winced. I’d told him I’d call him back today, but with the long drive in the storm, I’d forgotten. Feeling a pang of guilt, I called him immediately.
“Martin,” he said. “There you are. I called earlier but there was no answer, so I thought I’d send a follow-up text.”
“Sorry, I was caught in a surprise storm,” I said. “I didn’t hear my phone ring.”
“Are you all right?”
The concern in his voice sounded genuine, and I couldn’t help but think how odd it was that the guy who had driven me nuts for the better part of three years was feeling more like an ally. Weird. Cool but weird.
I could hear noise in the background, like a busy restaurant or maybe a bar. Oh no! Had I called him when he was on a date? Awkward.
“You sound like you’re out of the office, Knightley,” I said. “Please tell me I’m not interrupting something.”
“Define something,” he said.
“Like a date,” I said. I ran a hand through my hair. “Seriously, you should just hang up on me if it’s a date. For that matter, what are you doing answering the phone on a date? Rude.”
He laughed. “Relax. I’ve got to say, you are wicked high strung, Martin.”
It occurred to me that I liked the way his light Boston accent dropped the R in my name, making it Mahtin. I shook my head. Everyone said my name like that in Massachusetts—heck, I said my name like that. This was not charming. I was not charmed.
“I’m not high strung,” I protested. “I’m just making sure you observe the niceties.”
“Appreciate it, but I’m not on a date, as I’m not dating anyone right now. In fact, I just left my bros at a bar, and I’m freezing my tail off as I walk to the T.”
“Oh, well, at least you’re not chatting on your phone on a date,” I said. “That’s the worst.”
“Noted,” he said. “And for the record, I happen to agree.”
“Did you call me earlier to discuss the spreadsheet or to strategize a meeting with Severin?” I asked.
“Both,” he said. “But given that I’m out of the office and don’t have any of my notes with me, it’ll have to wait.”
“Sorry.” I sighed. I hated that I’d missed his call, and now I felt like a screwup. This was not normal for me.
“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re doing me a favor. There’s no need to apologize.”
“Except that I promised to help you for Aidan, and I’m not much help if I don’t answer my phone,” I said.
“Seriously, not a big deal,” he said. “We can hash it out tomorrow.”
“All right. How is Aidan, by the way?” I asked. I was hit with a sudden pang of missing my boss. I hadn’t had much time to think about him since I’d heard the news, and when I did, it was with a mild blast of panic that I was so far away and couldn’t do anything.
“He’s fine,” Jason said. “You know him. He plans to meditate right through his treatment and come out the other side.”
I could see Aidan doing just that. “That’s good to hear. Well, I’ll let you go—”
“Hang on,” he said. “I can’t feel my feet. I’m catching a cab.”
I waited until I heard a car door slam and Jason gave the driver his address.
“Wild guess here,” I said. “You’re wearing your black high-tops, and it probably snowed.”
“How did you know?”
“Because you always wear those and you always complain about your feet being wet and cold when it snows.”
“So what you’re saying is you’ve noticed me.” His voice was amused.
“No, what I’m saying is you’re an overgrown man-boy who needs to buy some decent footwear,” I said.