“Wow!” he says clearly impressed. “Wow. Okay. So did you know him in passing or quite well–”
“He was my best friend.”
“Oh.”
“We lost touch when his family moved to America when we were fourteen, and well we recently just got back in touch.”
His brow furrows. “When?”
“Well, today. This morning.”
“Oh,” he says again. His voice is tight now.
“That’s who I was just interviewing. Vicky managed to land an interview with him and she sent me knowing I knew him–”
“So Vicky knows you knew him?”
Crap.
Why is he so quick. He’s clearly hurt by it.
“Yes … I … um…” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I told her when I was drunk last Christmas, purely accidental and not a big deal.”
The waiter appears with our drinks and food, forcing Will to let go of my hand, and giving me a momentary and welcomed reprieve.
“So you did the interview this morning – how was it seeing him after all this time?” he seems a little easier now.
Good.
“Um … it was little surreal, I guess,” I shrug. “I knew him when he was younger. He’s a lot different now.”
“He most certainly is.” Will’s tone is sharp. It surprises me.
How can he make that statement when he doesn’t even know Jake? I suddenly feel very protective over him.
“So, anyway,” I say, mildly, hiding my annoyance. “Because I was interviewing him we didn’t really get to chat much – you know, catch up on old times, and well, he asked me to join him for dinner tonight.”
He puts the sandwich down that he’d just picked up.
“Jake Wethers has asked my girlfriend out for dinner.” He suddenly sounds all territorial. Not like Will at all.
“It’s not a date, silly. It’s just two old friends catching up.”
“Yes, and one half of those old friends happens to be my very beautiful girlfriend, and the other, the man-whore of the rock world.”
“Will!” I exclaim, shocked. “That’s a little unfair. You don’t even know him.”
“Clearly you do.”
Hang on. When did this turn into an argument?
It must be the expression on my face that prompts him to say, “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crap morning at work, and I was looking forward to seeing you and I guess my green-eyed monster is raising his head a little. You can’t blame me for that – I mean look at you.” He reaches his hand over, cupping my cheek, sinking his fingers into my hair.
“You have nothing to be jealous of.”
“He’s a rich good-looking rock star. I’d have to be a little stupid not to be jealous.”
“That he may be.” I take hold of his hand and kiss his palm. “But he’s not you. And I love you.”
That seems to appease him as his face relaxes a little.
I release his hand, allowing him to pick up his sandwich.
“How long is he in town for?”
“A few days.”
That seems to please him further.
“I guess it will be nice for you to catch up seeing as though you were childhood friends.”
And I loved him.
Covering my thoughts with a smile, I omit that thought and say, “So, as I’ve let you down two nights in a row for my friends now, I’m going to do something special tomorrow night to make it up to you.”
His brows rise. “I’m intrigued. Go on.”
“I’ll leave it to your imagination, and then tomorrow night you can tell me if I fulfilled it.” I grin at him.
“You never fail to make me happy, Trudy, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon, so I’m sure whatever you have planned will live up to my already high standard of you.”
That is so sweet. And now I feel kind of crap for having no clue what I’m going to do to make it up to him tomorrow night. I’m going to have to come up with something awesome.
I pick my panini up and take a bite.
Will walks me back to my office building, giving me a long lingering kiss before leaving me.
I head through the lobby and take the stairs up. Our office is only on the second floor and the exercise is good for me.
Going bright red at the whistles from my colleagues, I’m guessing Vicky’s already told them about my interview with Jake. I quickly drop my bag at my desk and head straight to her office.
She’s deep in concentration reading something on her computer screen when I knock on her open door.
Her eyes brighten when she sees me and she smiles. “Sit down and tell me all about the dirty boy of rock.”
I frown at her. I know Jakes got a reputation but I don’t like her calling him that.
“He’s not so much a boy, Vicky.”
She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrow. “And what does that mean - pray tell?”
I feel like I’m about to have a chat with one of my girlfriends over cocktails about a guy I just went on a date with. Not about an interview I just did with a celebrity.
I love that I have this kind of relationship with Vicky.
I drop myself into her chair across from her desk. “It means that people seriously underestimate him, Vicky. Yes, he’s singer in a band and he sleeps with lots of women–”
“Did he say that?” She looks at me hopefully. Another exclusive in mind.