Read Out of Her Comfort Zone for Free Online Page B

him look happier.
    “He seems to appreciate me plenty,” she said.
    “Obviously not. He’s not ready to settle down. A stag party, at his age? Maybe he never will be. I knew it all along.”
    “You are not five years older than he is.”
    “And me with two kids already.”
    “Neither over four years old.”
    “Is this about me or him?” Josh reached out and put a hand over hers. “It’s about you. How do you feel?”
    “Confused.” Could Elliot have been right about her having a bit of a hang-up? She did feel differently about her body now, more objective, less critical. She looked gorgeous in that photo – she loved it. Maybe she should get a wax every week.
    “Makes sense to me,” Josh said. “I say let him stew in his own juices for a week and see what happens. Ten to one he flakes and you’re rid of him.”
    “I thought you liked him.”
    “I do. But I like you better.” He patted her hand again and started to stand.
    Emily’s desk telephone burbled, outside line. She stared at the classic Vox, bewildered. Who ever would have that number? She reached for it, but Josh was faster. He picked up the handset and answered.
    His eyes widened. “It’s him,” he mouthed at her. Elliot? The man who refused to use landlines because they might be bugged?
    Josh grimaced. “She doesn’t have time to talk to assholes today. Maybe tomorrow. Leave a message?” Emily grabbed for the phone, but Josh spun his arm out of her reach. “Roger that. Over.”
    He hung up, and winked at her. “The guy’s sweating bullets. Make him pay.”
    Emily’s head was spinning. “So now you like him again? What could he possibly have said?”
    “He said he would be waiting on your call, if it took the rest of his life.”
    She sat back, a jumble of thoughts and emotions. It wasn’t Elliot’s fault his stepdad was a creep, or at least made terrible jokes. It wasn’t his fault she was shy about her body. The least she could do was talk to him. After all, how many guys actually wanted to hash things out?
    “Is the conference room booked?”
    Josh looked across the sea of cubicles and shook his head no.
    “Now it is.”
    ****
    She closed the conference room door, clicked on the tabletop sound blocker, and punched up Elliot’s number on her phone. He clicked in on the first ring.
    “Are you coming back?” His voice was heavy, like he’d been carrying loads of coal with it.
    “No.”
    He sighed, long. She pictured him rubbing his morning-stubble chin, like on Sundays when he was trying to work out why she didn’t want to go see Saw 8 . “Nothing’s changed.”
    “You lied.”
    “I didn’t know.”
    “Sure.”
    He paused, took in a breath. “But you liked it.”
    “I did. It was a thrill to be so public. But I counted on you to protect me. You changed the rules.”
    “It was a mistake.”
    “Right.”
    Silence, and all her fears were answered. He did do it on purpose. Then a shuffling on the other side, as if he was shooing people away. She heard a door close. “Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t plan to hurt you.”
    “You don’t even like your stepdad, but you invited him?”
    “He had a standing invitation, but he’d never taken me up on it before. And he won’t again, unless he wants another cracked tooth. This party was a comedy of errors. More like a tragedy. But Em, I... I love you.”
    He hit someone, defending her? She hardened her heart; it did not obey. But her mouth did. “Love means listening.”
    “I’m listening now.”
    “Great. Glad to be of service to your next fiancée.”
    “Don’t be that way. Please, what can I do?”
    She thought a moment, watching the sun warm the chop on the water and the shiny commuter snake clogging the BayBridge. She pressed her palm into the glass of the window, as if to pull warmth from the sun. Here she was in another windowed room, another fishbowl. If she married him, she always would be. Anyone could see. “You put me out there, El, and let people