by S. Walden
No one moved. No one said a word. They saw her standing in the doorway, listening to her mother’s advice—the mother who wanted another baby when she discovered Bailey’s problem. The mother who clung to Nicki as her hope for success. The mother whose difficult marriage twisted her heart into bitter sarcasm, transforming what was a lovely evening into a nightmare.
Georgie looked over and shook her head. “Bailey, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
But Bailey was already walking out the door.
“Baby love?” Reece asked tentatively. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Bailey’s back as she lay curled in a fetal position, crying.
“I’m fine,” she choked.
“I love you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He wasn’t expecting that response. He was expecting the obligatory “I love you” in return, but he decided he liked “thank you” better. It seemed to fit the occasion.
“Your mother’s advice sucked big time,” he went on.
Bailey sniffed.
“I expect the world from you, as I should, because you’re amazing and talented and funny and sweet. You’re sexy as hell and clever and smart and capable of so many things. So yeah. I expect a hell of a lot from you. And I also expect that you can be successful in managing your OCD. I’m proud of you, Bailey.”
She nodded and wiped her face.
“I wish she would just love me and be nice to me,” she whispered.
“I know she loves you,” Reece replied. “She just snapped tonight. And it’s my fault. I thought I was doing the right thing by asking for advice. I thought she could help me out, you know?”
Bailey said nothing. Reece lay down beside her and gathered her in his arms.
“Beboppin’ Bailey,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“Better Than All the Rest Bailey.”
She nuzzled his neck.
“Best Decision I Ever Made Bailey.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said.
“Bet on That Girl Bailey.” He kissed her forehead. “I have about a trillion more. We’re gonna be here a while.”
She giggled, then drifted to sleep to the sound of his words.
“Beat the Odds Bailey . . . Bait Me with a Kiss Bailey . . . Because I Love Her Bailey . . .
Because I love her . . .
***
She tried to forget Camden’s comment. She wished Reece had never told her. She traced the weaving lines of her cable knit sweater with her forefinger until Reece took her hand. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it.
“Why are you nervous? It’s just Camden,” Reece said.
“Meeting the friends is always nerve-wracking,” she replied. “Especially when they double as family.”
Reece chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You’re automatically smarter than he is. Keep that in mind.”
Bailey giggled and took a swig of beer.
“Not your usual girly drink tonight?” Reece observed.
“I wanna show Camden that I’m a ‘cool girl,’” she explained.
Reece nodded.
“You know,” Bailey went on, “I can hang with the guys and drink beer and talk about guy stuff.” She took another sip.
Reece studied her for a moment. “You really wanted a martini, didn’t you?”
“God, yes,” Bailey replied, and he burst out laughing.
They sat in the corner of the bar at The Blue Post waiting for Camden to arrive. He told Reece he was “dying” to meet Bailey, and his enthusiasm worried Reece the slightest bit. He warned Camden not to say anything inappropriate and to steer clear of the OCD topic.
“But what if she brings it up?” Camden asked.
“She won’t bring it up,” Reece countered.
“But what if she does?”
“Camden, people don’t introduce themselves and then add, ‘Oh, and by the way, I have a mental disorder.’”
“They don’t have to. It’s evident,” Camden mumbled.
“Stop being a jackass. And don’t stare at her or anything. Don’t try to figure out her tics.”
Camden waved him off.
“I’m serious, man! The only reason I’m introducing you is because you’re the closest thing to family I’ve got,” Reece said.
“Aww.” Camden held out his arms. “Come here, buddy. Let’s go. Get over here. It’s hug time. Hug time for this guy right here.”
“Asshole.”
Reece turned to Bailey. “Hmm?”
“Great,” she replied. “We’re already in that stage of our relationship? You don’t listen to me anymore?”
Reece shook his head. “Sorry. I was thinking about my doofus friend.” He scanned the bar then turned back to his girlfriend. “You know what? Maybe I oughta call him and tell him to forget it. Some other time, huh?”
Bailey frowned. “But I curled my hair. And that mess takes forever.”
Reece looked her over. She had curled her hair, and he learned what a big deal that was for women who live in humid climates—lots of time and hair product. And the curls would still fall out. So why bother, he wanted to know?
Bailey held up a chunk of her hair. “Look at this! The curls are already going!”
“You’re right,” Reece said. “I’m sorry. You’ll meet him.”
His voice conjured Camden, who stood in the doorway searching for them.
“Camden!” Reece called.
Bailey smoothed her hair and adjusted her sweater.
“What’s happening, man?” Camden asked, clasping Reece’s hand. He turned to Bailey and opened his arms. “Get over here, you.”
Bailey grinned and hopped off the bar stool. She walked into this stranger’s arms and let him squeeze her like a stuffed animal.
“Oh, wow,” Bailey said. She laughed. “Now that’s a ‘Nice to meet you.’”
“I’m not a pretender,” Camden replied pleasantly, pulling away. “You know what I mean? This here?”—He ran his finger up and down the front of his body—“This can’t pretend.”
Reece rolled his eyes.
“I’m just so happy for my loser friend,” Camden went on, gripping the back of Reece’s neck and squeezing tightly. “He’s been on Cloud Nine since he met you.”
Bailey blushed.
“Awww, don’t you get all nervous about it!” Camden exclaimed, pinching her cheek.
Bailey was reminded of Vince Vaughn’s character in Swingers. That was Camden. A sarcastic douchebag talker. She liked him immediately.
Reece swatted Camden’s hand away. “You done?”
“What’s the lady drinking?” Camden asked, ignoring his friend.
Bailey held up her beer.
Camden ordered her another and one for himself. He forgot all about Reece.
They moseyed to the back of the bar where an air hockey table awaited them.
“Oh good!” Bailey squealed. “No line.”
“You play air hockey?” Reece asked.
“Sort of,” Bailey replied. “You wanna go to the bar and ask for the pucks?”
Reece hesitated, unsure if he ought to leave Bailey alone with Camden.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, squeezing his hand.
Reece left, giving Bailey a few minutes to study his friend. He was tall like Reece, with short black hair and light blue eyes that darted around the room, no doubt looking for “beautiful babies.” Everything about his body was angular, and if he didn’t have such a personable nature, he may come off too severe or even frightening. He was obviously a fan of Pearl Jam. He wore a concert T-shirt from 1994.
“Wimpy ballad rock,” Bailey noted.
“Huh?” Camden replied.
“Their new stuff,” she said, pointing at his T-shirt.
“You’re crazy, right?”
“That’s what they tell me,” Bailey replied, winking.
Camden’s eyes went wide.
“Oh, no! I wasn’t referring to your . . . you know. That thing you have.”
�
��My OCD?” she asked.
“OCD? What OCD? Who’s got OCD?”
Bailey laughed. “I’m just playing around with you. And I have OCD. And you know I have OCD.”
“How?”
“Because I know you think I count—” She paused and grinned. “—when I bounce on it.”
Reece appeared at that exact moment, and Camden turned on him.
“Dude! You’re like a girl with the talky-talky!”
“What?”
Bailey burst out laughing.
“The counting and the bouncing, you asshole!” Camden said.
Reece stared at Bailey. “You mentioned that?”
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t catch her breath.
“I’m gone for, like, a minute, and this is what you two are talking about?” Reece said.
Camden threw up his hands. “Hey man, that’s all your girlfriend over there.”
“Oh, please,” Bailey replied. “I know you’re thinking about all the weird shit I do. Go on and ask me already.”
Camden studied her face. “Are you serious about that?”
“Bailey, no. Camden, no.”
“Sure,” Bailey said, ignoring her boyfriend. “Ask me anything you want. Or better yet, you can ask me a question every time you score on me.”
Camden grinned. “That sounds fun.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Reece argued.
“But I get to ask you things, too, if I score,” Bailey added.
“Fair enough. We’ll call it our ‘Get to Know the Best Friend’s Girlfriend’ game.”
“I like that,” Bailey replied, plucking the puck from Reece’s hand.
“I don’t,” Reece mumbled.
What Reece didn’t know was that Bailey hung out at The Blue Post her entire senior year of college. And she played air hockey for hours on end with Erica and her other college friends. And she was damn good at it.
When the night was through, she’d learned Camden’s life forward and backward, and he never got to ask her a single question. Not one.
“Is it too soon?” Reece whispered to Christopher.
“Is what too soon? And why you whisperin’?
Reece scanned the office. “Because I don’t want anyone to hear my business.”
“Then why you talkin’ about it at work?”
“Will you just tell me if it’s too soon to move in with Bailey?!”
“Ohhhhh, I see,” Christopher said, leaning back in his desk chair. “Well, have y’all discussed it before?”
“No.”
“How many times do you spend the night?”
“Like every night. I think she feels sorry for me because my apartment has nothing in it,” Reece said.
Christopher chuckled. “Dude, your apartment is sad. I still can’t believe you took her to see it.”
“She wanted to. What? Am I gonna say no? And anyway, it would have looked like I was hiding something if I didn’t invite her over.”
“True,” Christopher said, and then he thought for a moment. “How long you been dating?”
“I don’t know. About seven months,” Reece replied.
“Hmmm.”
“What’s ‘hmmm?’” Reece asked.
“I think it’s an appropriate amount of time. I suppose you wanna move in to her place?”
Reece rolled his eyes. “Where’ve you been for the last fifteen seconds of this conversation?”
“Just asking,” Christopher replied.
“And yes. Makes sense. She’s the one with the mortgage.”
“And what about your stuff?” Christopher asked.
Reece laughed. “What stuff?”
“The little bit of crap you have,” Christopher said. “Your couch, bed?”
“Storage, I guess.”
The men fell silent.
“You know it’s a huge step. I ain’t sayin’ your freedom is curbed or anything, but it’s a whole different ballgame livin’ with a chick,” Christopher said.
“And you know this from experience?” Reece asked.
“Man, I have friends who live with their women.”
“And?”
“I don’t ever see ‘em,” Christopher joked.
Reece chuckled. “Bailey’s not like that.”
“All chicks are like that. It doesn’t matter if they surf or not,” Christopher explained.
Reece nodded. He knew Christopher was right. He imagined that moving in with Bailey would change the dynamic of their relationship significantly. He expected to spend more time with her. It made sense. They would be sharing a bed and a sink, after all. And he was okay with that. In fact, he was turning into one of those boyfriends who wanted to spend all his time with his girlfriend. Camden teased him relentlessly for it the other night at trivia when Reece explained he could only stay for the first three rounds.
“Why?” Camden asked.
“Because I’ve gotta get home,” Reece replied.
“Umm, why? There’s nothing at your home,” Camden pointed out.
“I meant Bailey’s. I’m going to Bailey’s.”
Camden grinned wickedly. “Bailey’s, huh? Is that your new home?”
“Maybe,” Reece said. He accompanied his reply with a noncommittal shrug. He didn’t want to get into it with Camden.
“She give you a curfew?” Camden prodded.
“Shut up. And no.”
Camden laughed. “She one of those chicks who makes you feel badly if you’re not spending every waking moment with her? She one of those chicks who’s jealous of her boyfriend’s friends?”
“Shut up, Camden.”
“Lemme guess. She won’t give you head if you miss curfew.”
“You’re such an ass. I don’t know why I’m even friends with you,” Reece replied. “And maybe it’s got nothing to do with her. Maybe it’s me, okay? Maybe I wanna leave early to see her. Did you ever think of that?”
“God, you’re pussy whipped,” Camden said.
“And you’re jealous as hell,” Reece replied.
Camden considered Reece’s words. “Well, obviously.”
Reece watched Christopher gather some materials for their presentation, then walked with him to the conference room.
“So when you askin’ her?” Christopher said.
“Today.”
“And what do you think her reaction will be? You know Bailey has her little scheduled life goin’ on. May be too much for her,” Christopher said.
Reece turned around. “You know about her OCD?” he whispered.
Christopher looked at him, confused. “Doesn’t everyone in this office know about her OCD?”
Reece’s mouth dropped open. “I had no idea. I thought people just assumed she was really organized.”
Christopher grunted.
“No one makes fun of her, do they?” Reece asked suddenly. And just as suddenly his muscles swelled, adrenaline kicking in instantly, ready to take out anyone who said something mean about his girlfriend.
“Calm down, tough guy,” Christopher replied. “No one makes fun of her. And I don’t think anyone here knows how bad it is anyway. I do because I’m friends with her.”
“How come you never brought it up?”
Christopher looked at his friend evenly. “Because I didn’t think I had to worry about you goin’ after her.”
Reece looked at him dubiously. “Seriously? You knew I liked her the first day I saw her.”
Christopher thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. Red pants.” He shook his head. “Still, I thought you were smarter than that—sneaking around with her and all that.”
“Has it been a problem? Have we been slacking on the job? Not doing our work?”
Christopher rolled his eyes. “Not the point. You shouldn’t have gone there, and you know it.”
Reece opened his mouth to reply.
“But . . . you two are good for each other. And I like you together. So it’s cool.”
Reece smirked. “So glad to get the Chri
stopher stamp of approval. Now what other things do you know about her that I don’t?”
Christopher burst out laughing. “Man, you fuckin’ this chick. You practically already live with her. I think you know everything I know.”
“Good point,” Reece replied, and the two ended their conversation before walking into the meeting.
“You coming over?” Bailey asked at the end of the workday. It was 6:03 P.M.; she’d missed her 6:00 P.M. scheduled departure and didn’t even take notice.
“May I?” Reece asked, sitting on the edge of her desk.
Bailey grinned. “After six months, it’s ‘May I?’”
“Six months? I thought it was seven.”
“Six or seven,” she said, packing her bag. “And yes, you may.”
“How about the next night?” Reece asked.
“Yes.”
“What if I just stayed with you over the weekend?” he went on, watching her face carefully.
“You usually do. And I don’t mind at all,” she replied.
“What if I just stayed with you next week, too? Maybe we could drive together to work,” he suggested.
“Okay.”
Reece grew bold. “What if I just stay with you indefinitely? And move my three things in? And, you know, just live with you?”
Bailey froze. “What?”
Reece said nothing. She heard him. He didn’t need to repeat it. He simply waited for an answer to a question he had no business asking at work. What the hell was wrong with him that he felt compelled to talk about really personal shit at work? First the “I love you” and now the “May I move in with you?” Why not just get on his knee and propose while he was at it? Do the whole office romance thing just right. Have the wedding ceremony in the conference room!
Bailey stood up slowly, hooking her work bag and purse over her shoulder.
“No one’s ever wanted to move in with me,” she said softly. “Not even my fiancé.”
“Your what?!”
“No,” Bailey said. “You don’t get to do that. Don’t look at me all shocked. First you tell me you love me in the copy room. And now you’re asking to move in with me while we’re standing in my cubicle. So yeah. I get to drop the bomb about my ex-fiancé and do it right here at work.” She folded her hands over her chest and waited.
“I don’t even know how to process that!”
“I was engaged. He broke it off last year. Last spring, to be exact.”
