Pull You In (Rivers Brothers #3) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,36
me turn to pretend like ladling out soup into a bowl required my utmost attention.
"I... yeah," Rush agreed, and I wondered how good of a liar he was, if my mother picked up on any hint of untruth in his tone, in his face.
"That's so sweet. I hope she doesn't get you sick. Though, Kate is a great cook. She could make you some soup if she shared her germs with you."
Oh, God.
That was the cringiest thing she could have possibly said. Especially because I was almost sure she meant it in more than a ' since you two shared the same cabin' kind of way.
"If I want her to cook me anything, it is more of those crêpes," he said, making me turn on my way to the microwave, sharing a small smile with him.
"Oh, the chocolate and whipped cream ones?" she asked.
"Wait a second, how am I just learning that is an option?"
"Oh, and the cookie butter. Oh, my God. Those are amazing too."
"I'm sensing the need to tell Fee we should have an office breakfast bar potluck," Rush suggested, "as soon as Katie is better."
"We actually do brunch at my place on Saturdays. Katie and I both usually whip things together. You are more than welcome to come."
I tried to shoot her "What are you doing?" eyes, but her gaze was stubbornly looking in any direction than at me.
"In fact, I think she should be up and running by this next Saturday. You should come. Give me your number. I can send you the address."
Accepting I was no longer a part of the conversation, I took my soup out of the microwave, and started to eat, standing there in my kitchen while my mom schmoozed Rush on my behalf.
Just when I finished, she was walking him to the door, thanking him for checking in on me, and reminding him that she expected to see him for brunch before closing the door, and turning back to me with an arched brow.
"I can't believe you invited him to brunch. You don't even know him."
"Honey, you get to know people by spending time with them," she reminded me. "Besides, he seems like a perfectly nice man."
"I don't need you to play matchmaker, Mom," I told her, putting my bowl in the sink, turning to flick the electric kettle on.
"I was just being friendly. Clearly, you know him better than you let on. So I assumed something was going on with you two. You didn't tell me anything about board games and book discussions. Or how handsome he is."
"We were looking for ways to pass time at the cabin," I insisted.
"And the handsome part?"
"Seemed inconsequential."
"Oh, honey, a man who looks like that is never inconsequential. I know, I know, it's not about looks. But he is also charming and sweet."
"You talked to him for fifteen minutes."
"Which was long enough to know what I know. And inviting him to brunch will only allow me to get to know him better."
"To what end?"
"To make a new friend."
"Mom."
"Fine," she said, sighing. "You two kept looking at each other like you had unfinished business."
"Well, we don't," I told her, shrugging. "It's finished. It is all finished."
And that was my intention.
Life, it seemed, had other plans.
EIGHT
Rush
Work was slow.
I mean, my job had been slow a lot lately.
But it was especially slow now.
Meaning I hadn't had a call in days, not since I came back from the woods.
I would sit at my desk at night waiting for a phone that never rang, a call that never came.
Not even her.
My regular.
A woman who called, but rarely spoke. If she did, she did so in a small voice, barely audible. Instead, she had specified in her notes that we asked callers to fill out, describing their preferences, that I talk to her. About "anything" she'd said. So, sometimes, I talked to her about the weather, something I was watching on TV, some news story I'd heard about that wasn't too controversial. And she just listened.
I guess that should have been weird. But lonely people just wanted to not be so alone sometimes, to hear a voice. Some people could go whole days without speaking to another human being. It was good to get relief from that. Even if you had to pay for it.
Sure, there were nights when I was a little heated from some book I'd been reading when the call came in. And those nights, the stories turned into dirty talk.