I’m lingering at my desk in the mostly dark, totally empty office, putting off going down to the graphics suite. I don’t want to be alone in a cramped, dark room with Marvin. I think it might not be safe, actually. And a girl can never be too careful.
It’s eerie to be at work when no one else is. Due to a new company policy, everyone’s computers are off, so there aren’t even any screensavers blinking or scrolling or doing all the other things screensavers do. And it’s amazing how much quieter it is when the PC fans aren’t all whirring. For a second, I’m tempted to go over to Leslie’s computer and turn it on so it looks like she broke the rules. But I don’t move from where I’m standing. I don’t want to chance Marvin hearing me move around out here. Until Jude arrives, I decide to lie low.
I know he’s not here yet, because the door was locked when I got here, and I still have his key. I keep forgetting to give it to him.
I unclip it from my keychain and stare at it in my palm.
“What’s this?” he asks as I offer it to him.
“A key to my London flat,” I answer coyly.
His eyes mist over. “Oh, wow. This. Is. Big.”
“I know,” I start to get emotional, too, but I smile through my tears, then laugh as he wipes them from my cheeks.
“You’re even gorgeous when you cry.” He smiles, his white teeth gleaming. Ting! “But I have something for you that’s even better.” He goes down on one knee and holds a sparkling ring between his thumb and forefinger. Ting-ting! “Will you do me the honor of being my bride?”
All I can do is nod. I’m overcome by emotion. I’ve found someone who wants to be with me forever. Someone not from the feline family. I watch him slide the ring on my finger. Violins are playing. I lean down and take his face in my hands, kissing him. “You want to marry me?” I ask after a very long, intense kiss.
“I do.”
“Wotcher got there?”
“Aggh!” I drop the key, and we both bend over at the same time to pick it up, resulting in our banging our heads together like two people in a predictable slapstick comedy.
He comes up with the key in one hand, his head in the other.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I gripe, rubbing my gourd. “And you have a really hard head!” And I’m the one with the titanium plate in her head. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a goose egg.
“Better than a soft one, I s’pose, which yours is definitely not, either,” he mumbles, holding the key out to me. “Here; you dropped this.”
“Really?”
“You don’t have to be all snarky! I said I was sorry. I thought you heard me come in. It’s not like I was quiet about it.”
As I shake off the afterglow of my fantasy and get back into reality, I inform him, “I think that’s your key.”
“You’re pulling my plonker.” He holds up and inspects the piece of jagged metal, as if he’s going to be able to recognize it on sight.
“I most certainly am not pulling your… whatever.” I wrinkle my nose disgustedly, but mostly at myself for kind of liking the sound of that.
He takes in my expression, wrinkling his nose, too. “Ew. It doesn’t mean whatever you obviously think it does.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
I barely prevent myself from screaming at his echo of Fantasy Jude’s exact words. I suck in a gasp, then choke on my own spit. While I sputter with my fist against my mouth, he thumps on my back. After I can talk again, I step away from him and wheeze, “You’re late.”
Even stranger than seeing the office empty is seeing him in casual clothes. He’s wearing longish shorts that are frayed at the hem, but they look like the kind of shorts that you pay big money for them to look like you dug them out of the trash. He also has on a plaid button-up, short-sleeve shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white t-shirt under it. And he’s wearing flip-flops. He looks like he worked really hard to look like a slob. The idea of him worrying about what to wear today comforts me for some reason.
Concentrating by sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, he slides his key onto a ring that also holds his car and apartment keys. “Yeah. Sorry. Car troubles.”
“Oh, you had to take the El?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head, “but just about. I called the car club when I barely made it here. They’re supposed to tow it to a garage and ring me.” At the mention of his phone, he checks to make sure he hasn’t missed any calls.
“Well, let’s get this over with,” I say, sighing. “I have better things to do today.” It doesn’t matter that it’s a lie, as long as he believes it.
Seeming nervous suddenly, he shuffles his feet, putting one hand in his pocket, then the other. “O-okay.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, worried that he’s about to deliver more bad news. Maybe Marvin already talked to him and demanded two dates with me. No, I refuse to call them dates. Although… then I’d get my “extra credit” from Dr. Marsh…
“Nothing,” he quickly answers. “Not a thing. Where does this Marvin fellow hole himself up to do his best work?”
I keep him in my sight as I point the way. His twitchy behavior continues. He takes his keys from one pocket and
