To make sure she doesn’t burn herself out. No other reason.
I grab my keys and wallet and head out. My feet bring me past Julia’s office despite it not technically being on my way. She’s bobbing her head to music, her feet tapping happily under her desk. Something she does when she thinks nobody can see her. It’s unnervingly adorable. A smile spreads on my face unbidden. After a moment of letting myself blatantly watch her, I shift into her line of sight. She glances up.
She pulls out an earbud. “Hey,” she says with an easy smile. New tension pulls around her mouth and eyes.
Do I make her uncomfortable for some reason? I have asked a lot of her since she started but have tried to maintain distance so she doesn’t feel like I am hovering. Guilt eats at me. This is what happens to everyone working at Shemesh-Tek. Overworked, stressed, not sleeping enough. I tell myself this team is working toward something huge, that these are the sacrifices we willingly pay, but she’s just started and already the stress is hitting her hard.
“Ready?” I ask her, nodding toward the exit.
Her eyes widen before they flick to check the time on her monitor. “Wow. The days really fly here.”
“That they do. Come on, birthday girl. You’re the guest of honor.”
“Okay. Just for a bit, and then I’m gonna come back and finish this.” She stretches her arms overhead, back arching, and I drop my gaze to the floor.
“No overtime,” I warn. I try to arrange my features into my best mean-boss face but it’s never been very convincing.
She grins. “It’s not overtime. Technically. And now I won’t have to come in this weekend, per your instructions.”
I want to tell her that she shouldn’t be working so late anyway, but wouldn’t that be calling the kettle black?
“Okay. Wanna ride together?” I ask as casually as I can. I didn’t mean to say it. The words just came out. My body wants to be around her before my mind can catch up.
She stills as she collects her bag.
“The bar is right down the road,” I add quickly. “I can bring you back to the office because I have to check the tests running for the weekend.” Mostly the truth. But what am I doing? This is inappropriate. Is it? No, it’s not. I just want her to feel comfortable around me. I want her to feel like part of the team. It’s no different than Jared offering me a ride.
Yes it is, a little voice warns.
“Okay. I’ll drive,” she says. “My Jeep is parked right outside this door.”
If she was able to get a spot so close to the door, it means that she was here first thing this morning. More guilt eats at me. She’s definitely over her forty hours. If I can’t help how hard this contract is, I can at least ensure she has a little fun on her birthday.
“Let’s go,” I say and gesture out.
As she passes me I catch a whiff of her soothing sweet smell. I fight myself from inhaling it deeply. What it would be like to roll over and smell that on my pillow?
Whoa. Where did that come from? Get it together, man. Maybe Lincoln was right; I really need a girlfriend. Sure, and with all my free time I can pick up cross-stitching too.
“A Jeep?” I ask, surprised as we climb into the soft top.
“Yeah. I got it when I moved here a few years ago. Thought it would be good in the winter.”
“Very nice,” I say appreciatively.
“You seem surprised?” she asks.
“No—” I’m cut off by heavy bass and a gravely rapper telling people to sit down.
“Sorry,” she yells as she turns down the radio.
“Now, I’m surprised.”
“It’s just something I’m working on.” She flushes and looks behind her as she backs out of the parking spot.
“Working on?” I ask.
Julia isn’t exactly shy, but she never offers up information or talks about herself. And that’s kept her a bit of a mystery. Always at arm’s length from the rest of the team.
“It’s a dance. I tap dance. Well, sort of hip-hop and tap and jazz combined.” She shoots me a glance as though to gauge my reaction.
My first thought is just When does she find the time? It’s quickly followed by Where does she tap?
“Tap, huh?” I nod. “Cool.” I don’t ask any of the questions flashing through my brain. But a follow-up falls out anyway. “To rap?”
She shrugs. “I like to mix it up with modern songs. This is Kendrick Lamar, but I use all types of music.” She points to the worn photo of a couple standing in front of ropes and pulleys. The woman is in a bedazzled bodysuit with an elaborate feather headpiece and a man leans on some scaffolding, his arm not touching the woman but protective and significant. “My Grandma Sue taught me to tap. She was a chorus girl on Broadway back in the day. It’s where she met my grandpa. He was a stagehand. I loved to dance and as I got older, I branched out on my own to hip-hop, salsa—all of the dances really. I couldn’t get enough.”
Unbidden, an image of her smiling coyly in a similar costume flashes into my mind.
“Will you show me?” Again, the words fly out. I need to have a long talk with my brain about what are and are not acceptable topics of discussion.
“What? Now?” She laughs, shaking her head.
“Maybe not this instant,” I say. Then I mumble, “Tonight?”
“What?” She turns the radio even lower.
“Nothing. There’s the bar.” I point to the small red brick building with a large outside patio.
“We really could have walked,” she says.
“But then I wouldn’t have learned you dance.”
A smile spreads over her features as she smoothly moves the car into a spot and shuts off the engine. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret telling you?”
I grin at her and she shakes her head.
“I’ve never seen you at Beakers before,” I say.
“I don’t really drink craft beer.”
“There’s also Jez’s bar on the other side of town.” Why am I even talking about this? It’s not like I am ever going to ask her out.
She collects her bag. “I’ve heard of it. Just not been. I’m a homebody,” she says it casually enough but her shoulders tense slightly.
I let it go. Maybe it’s part of her health issues. I don’t care whether or not she drinks. So why am I disappointed to know she doesn’t really go out? I know so little about her. Maybe there’s a partner at home controlling where she goes and when. I push that dark thought away; I have no reason to think that. It’s just a shame more people don’t know her. I’m desperate to figure her out and know everything about her. I want to lead her around town and introduce her to everyone like, This is Julia. She’s so funny and goofy and smart and apparently also dances.
It is what someone dating her might think. Not me.
Inside, the bar is packed two people deep and it’s hard to find the team. When I spot them, I see they have snagged a table in the back corner and wave from across the room. Next to me, Julia takes a deep breath in and out.
I glance over to find her jaw tight with tension, gaze scanning all the people between us and our group.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Of course.” She nods and forces a smile.
I lead the way through the crowd, parting through people as much as possible so she doesn’t have to brush against anybody.
As we get closer, we are greeted with a chorus of “There they are,” and “Happy birthday!”
“Ready?” I ask her and she smiles up at me with a look of gratitude.
“As I’ll ever be.”
* * *
Eventually we drift out to the less-crowded back patio, where the setting sun bathes the team in that magic hour light and the sweet smell of summer air. Pride fills my chest. My people needed this. They laugh easily, talk about nothing important and luxuriate in the good weather and company. I nurse a beer at the same rate Julia does a cider. She seems happy, if slightly contained. The pink hues illuminate
her golden skin, giving her an ethereal glow. She’s like a wood nymph with her mischievous dark eyes and pixie nose lightly dusted in freckles.
Julia dresses in a way that fascinates me. Always professional in flowy pants that could easily look like bad mom-khakis from the ’90s but are chic on her. Tonight, her oversized dress shirt is cinched high and tight around her petite waist, but droops around the shoulders, revealing that little dip by her collarbone. There’s a beauty mark just before the delicate bone of her shoulder. I tilt my head unconsciously to try and get a better look from across the room.
I’m aware I’m blatantly staring when she looks up and our eyes meet. A tangible wave of warmth passes over me that I can’t explain. I look away quickly, taking a long pull of my beer, wondering if she feels it too. My focus slides back to her no matter how I try to fight it. My gaze is greedy for her.
God, I can’t be thinking things like this. Besides the whole maintaining a professional distance, there’s also the fact that she’s leaving in a few weeks. If I were ever lucky enough to get close to Julia, I don’t think I’d be able to see her leave so easily.
Julia is listening to Kate talk about her most recent trip to Prague with her head tilted and a smile on her face when an upbeat song comes on. Her foot starts to tap and her head bobs to the heavy techno beat. Is she dancing in her head while she’s listening? Does she even know she’s doing it?
A guy I recognize from a different team in the building adjacent to ours has made his way over to Julia. I don’t trust how he immediately hones in on her. His eyes are a little glassy and he steps a little too close. I think his name is Tom. I’ve never liked him and I decide I like him even less when he moves to the high stool next to Julia and leans in. Febin is talking to me but I’m only half-listening as I cast glances to check on her.
Her face has a polite smile but every so often she looks around with an uncomfortable edge. He leans in, jabbing the counter with a finger, speaking with the exuberance of someone more than tipsy. She smiles politely but leans back every time he moves closer. At this rate she’ll fall backward off the stool.
He’s talking loudly for all the patio to hear. “But that’s just the newest model. I probably shouldn’t have splurged for it. But work hard, play hard, amirite?” Tom slurs, not-so-subtly bragging about his drone collection.
Julia’s gaze meets mine unexpectedly over Febin’s shoulder. Maybe I imagine the slight widening of eyes as a call for help. Maybe my brain is sleep deprived and seeing what it wants to. But when Tom reaches for her and she visibly flinches, I’m out of my chair and heading over in a flash.
“Be right back,” I mumble to Febin, who, unfazed, continues on with Dylan and Jared.
“Julia,” I say when I’m at her side. I slide in between them, effectively blocking Tom without actually touching her. I don’t have a plan of what to say. My body acted before my head caught up again. This is a new phenomenon for me. Usually it’s very much my mind going a million miles an hour while I stand fidgeting, staring in space. Now with Julia looking at me expectantly, I freeze up.
“Hey, Big Cheese,” she grins.
“Hey, you’re the guy …” He snaps his fingers and jabs a finger into my shoulder. It jostles me forward slightly and I knock into Julia’s knees, which have to spread to accommodate me. She gasps and stands quickly, tucking her hands behind her back.
“Tom,” I say flatly to him. “I think someone scratched your Mustang.”
“What? For real?” He cocks his head to try and see into the parking lot. “Fu—” He stumbles away without looking back at Julia.
Julia sucks in her lips and smiles up at me. This close I see that a few of the freckles look like the constellation Cassiopeia. I’m about to tell her that when I realize I’ve been staring at her face for way too long.
“How’d you know about his car?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Lucky guess,” I say and change the subject. “How many beers have you had?”
She frowns and I mentally kick myself. That was the wrong thing to say. I hadn’t meant to sound like I was blaming her for Tom’s invasion. Why am I so very awkward around her? I can explain the most complicated energetics technology but talking to this woman ties my tongue in knots.
“Not even the one grapefruit cider.” She holds her half-full glass.
“I’m just wondering if you’re ready to show us your skills,” I quickly try to recover.
Her head drops back with a groan but she smiles. “I knew I’d regret telling you that.”
“Look at you.” I gesture her upper body, rocking to a song I don’t recognize. “You can hardly hold yourself back. You know you want to.” Was I flirting? I’m so out of practice that I don’t even know. No, “out of practice” implies that I had ever been in practice. Flirting and my level of nerd-dom never managed to synch up.
She stills herself and a little frown forms between her eyebrows. In this light her eyes have the depth and color of an amber gemstone. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
“I noticed,” I say. “You do it in meetings, too.”
She holds my gaze with an unreadable expression. Shit. Had I given too much away?
“Why don’t you go first?” she says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“You show me your hidden talent and I’ll show you mine.” Her tone is completely light and friendly, but those words coming out of her mouth causes me to cough.
“I don’t have any,” I say.
“Don’t be modest. What do you do when you aren’t building super tech or winning patents?”
I grin at the ground. I didn’t realize she knew about all that. “I don’t have a ton of free time. Mostly I just hang out with Lincoln when I’m not here.”
Her smile remains fixed but something flashes in her wide eyes. Something like disappointment. I know I’m not very cool or exciting. It’s still very weird and new that people look to me like I am somebody worth knowing. No super-secret talents. Just a big nerd with more paper on his office walls.
“I know. Pretty lame,” I say. “But if you’re too chicken, you really don’t have to do it.”
She purses her lips at me. “Don’t try that with me. It won’t work.”
“What won’t work?” Jared walks up, asking.
Jared is a good-looking guy. I know because every time we venture outside our building he never fails to get approached. He looks like he should be a rock star but his brain is a freaking machine at coding.
He’s about to sling his arm around Julia’s shoulders in a brotherly fashion before catching himself and dropping it. Only I catch her small flinch. He smoothly leans against the stool instead as though nothing happened. She glances at her hands and takes a deep breath.
“I was just telling Julia that since it’s her birthday and since she’s too shy, she doesn’t have to reveal her super-secret hidden talent.”
Her eyes widen for a flash before she forces her smile wider.
“She dances,” I say conspiratorially to Jared.
“Oh, you play dirty.” She shakes her head, glaring playfully.
“You can dance?” Jared asks.
Others have walked over with interest. I watch her closely as I take a sip of my beer.
“I guess she’s just too shy,” Jared says, quickly grasping the thread of teasing.
She shakes her head back and forth but her leg shakes with barely contained energy.
“I’ll do it if you do it.” She holds my gaze, daring me. “I’ll teach you a few steps. But afterward, that’s it, and I never want to hear about this again.” She points a finger at me but it’s hard to be intimidated by her coy smile. “And it depends on the next song.”
The song ends and a familiar one starts. Fingers snap and T-Pain sings.
“Ohhh damn,” Jared says punching the air. “A classic. You have to know this one.”
She doesn’t have to answer; she’s already smiling and nodding to t
he beat. “You’re lucky,” she says.
“Okay, I wanna learn,” Kate says.
“Me too!” Dylan lines up next to Kate.
In the corner of the patio there is a small area where the unused propane heaters are kept, the whole team, even me, line up side by side. We could not look dorkier as she starts to teach us slowly, patiently, one step at a time.
Kate and Dylan are pretty good. Febin is hopeless, but at least he makes me look slightly less awkward. I’m too tall and my old hip injury makes it hard to have any sort of natural rhythm.
The longer the music goes on, the more she seems to lose herself. Until eventually we all stop trying and just watch her. She snaps and rocks a little side to side. Lost in the music, her eyes closed, feet moving.
As the chorus talks about buying a drink, her feet start to move in unexpected ways. They cross and swirl. Her body rocks and spins. Her movements are smooth and … modern. If she were wearing her tap shoes, they would be clicking nonstop. I guess I had images of her tapping effortlessly like Fred Astaire or Shirley Temple, especially with her curls. But this? This is anything but adorable.
As she goes on, the smile starts to melt off my face. Despite her loose dress clothes, the strength in her toned figure is revealed as she spins and runs hands over herself. Her confidence as her body moves is startling. She is made for this. The way she manages to intuit the song and blend it into her own moves, knowing how to rock and sway to the cheesy music. This should not be so sexy but when she drops forward and snaps herself up, back arched, I run a hand over my face. I look around to make sure nobody sees my reaction, but they’re all just as caught up.
“Damn, she can really dance,” Dylan says with appreciation.
“Yeah,” Jared says. His eyes move over her in a way that is no longer brotherly.
She laughs and twirls again with flourish. She’s fully in the moment, no shame, just the pride that comes with years of training. Then she puts her arms out and crosses them at the wrists as her shoulders alternate in circles. She leans back … and back … and further yet until she seems to be defining gravity. Her legs are strong, her waist is trim. She’s very bendy. I swallow.
The Untouched: THE UNSEEN SERIES, #2 Page 7
