Famished - Meghan O'Flynn (learn to read books TXT) 📗

The sun warmed my face and turned lake water ripples into a carpet of glitter thrown by an unruly child. The outdoor end-of-summer picnic at Harwick Technical was a vast improvement on the conference rooms we’d turned to last year when the picnic had been rained out.

Noelle sat alone with a plate of food at a table overlooking the lake. Closer to the building, children giggled on inflatable bounce houses. Their parents talked amongst themselves, feigning calm, but poised like meerkats ready to leap at the slightest indication of danger, or, more likely, hair pulling and unauthorized spitting.

I took my plate to where Noelle was sitting and claimed a spot across from her. Ribs, potatoes, and corn, the best picnic food money could buy. At least I assumed that was true; I was certainly not a picnic connoisseur. If such a thing existed, that would be my new occupational goal. It would have been better than typing up employee files between bouts of crushing people’s dreams.

“You don’t have to look so pissed to be here,” Noelle said. “I mean, you need to get out of the house sometimes, right? Explore the world. Get away from Ja—”

“I’m not pissed. Just hanging out.” I took a bite of corn on the cob, feeling a little pissed. “Besides, Jake was busy today. He went over to his mom’s house.” A corn kernel escaped my lips and landed on the table. I wiped it away, pretending it was Jake’s mother, the real reason I had told Jake this party was mandatory. At least he hadn’t wanted to come; having Jake around would have made me feel extra horrible when my boss’s presence turned me into a blubbering imbecile. I scanned the field for Mr. Harwick, but that sinewy mass of handsome was nowhere to be seen. Bummer.

“Gotcha. Well, see? You wouldn’t have been doing anything anyway.” Noelle speared a piece of chicken. “Can I ask you a question?”

I shrugged. “Shoot.”

“Why do you put up with that guy? He sits around all day, visiting with his mom and who knows who else, while you work to—”

“I love Jake for things besides money.”

Noelle cocked her head. “What, like his cooking? Didn’t he once cut the tops off the broccoli and serve only the bottoms?”

I winced. “He tried.”

“I guess you must love him for his brains.”

The corn rolled around in my stomach. “Everyone deserves a chance, right? And he’s there for me when I need him.”

Noelle snorted. “Like a faithful lap dog, only way more expensive.”

“Faithfulness is important.” My ears warmed. “Besides, it’s his other attributes that keep me coming back.” I winked and hoped it didn’t look forced.

Noelle glanced across the field and back at me. “He must have a golden dick, then, for all the shit you put up with.”

“Nothing golden now, but believe me, we tried. That sparkly paint was way too itchy.”

“Jesus, Hannah.”

“Jesus would never do the things I make Jake do to me.” My ears cooled. The corn settled. I set the half-eaten cob on the plate and grabbed my fork.

“You’re probably right about that. Plus, he always had all those apostles following him around.”

“He has a long staff, though,” I said. I smiled, and this time I meant it.

“I think that was Moses.” Noelle frowned and stared past me; she straightened her shoulders.

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

I startled and dropped a forkful of potatoes at Mr. Harwick’s voice. Nice going, Hannah.

He stepped around to the head of the table, his eyes deep blue oceans flecked with a lighter shade of gray. His aquiline nose cut through the middle of his face above lips that were just shy of pouty, now twitching up in amusement. The blue suit he wore was immaculate, right down to the silver cufflinks and navy-striped tie. Did he ever wrinkle? Each element of him registered, but separately like the flickered images from an old silent movie.

“Afternoon,” I said. Noelle said it at exactly the same time, ensuring that we sounded like wannabe twins, or maybe synchronized talkers. Synchronized talking, an Olympic sport like synchronized swimming, only way lamer. If that was a thing, I had another job aspiration. But I couldn’t think about potential jobs or anything else when Mr. Harwick’s eyes were staring into mine and making my world disappear, which was probably totally unhealthy, but I didn’t care. Such was the nature of fantasy men, right? I waited for him to walk away like he always did. He had probably heard that little crack in my voice. Shit, maybe he knew about my weirdness.

But he was still there, staring at me with that amused expression. God, were his eyes always like that? They were sin-sational. Was that a word? I wondered if I could dive into them and swim around for a while. And if he’d notice me taking a dip in his eyeballs. And how Jake would feel about that.

Maybe Jake can come too!

That’s what she said.

Christ. Stop it, Hannah.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked. His eyes twinkled, and I wanted to touch them. But eye-poking would surely hurt him and make me look flat-out crazy.

“Very much. It’s pretty nice of you to feed the whole place,” Noelle said.

He turned to her, and the hold he had on me disappeared. I fought the urge to slump under the table and hide.

“I appreciate the things all of you do,” he said. “Might as well show my appreciation with coleslaw and chicken.” He looked back at me and rubber bands wrapped around my chest, like that rubber-bands-around-a-watermelon trick where you add more and more until it blows up. If I exploded, it wouldn’t be as hilarious as the watermelon thing. But it might make it to America’s Best Home Movies or whatever that show was called.

Noelle nodded. “Yeah, the chicken is pretty good.”

And there were those eyes again.

“How are you enjoying it?” he asked me.

“Nothing fowl about it,” I said, and fire spread from my cheeks to my neck. Nice. Super classy.

Mr. Harwick laughed. My heart somehow managed to speed up and slow down at the same time.

Noelle cocked an eyebrow at me and shook her head. She cut into a potato with a plastic knife.

“I even got real butter because, with butter, there is little margarine for error.” Mr. Harwick winked at me.

I was a fish gasping for air; I couldn’t close my mouth.

“Have fun, ladies.” Mr. Harwick turned in the direction of the building.

And there he goes.

“He’s fucking delicious,” Noelle whispered. “Weird sense of humor, but delicious.” She was watching me closely, eyes darting from me to his receding back.

I’d like for you to stay, but I love to watch you leave. Damn, someone else had said that, right? It wasn’t me. I would never think such a thing. I had a boyfriend, and I loved him.