Keeping Pace Read Online Free Page A

right.”
    “Any of what?”
    “It’s just me over there, and I was kind of wondering if maybe you’d care for some company.” He dropped his gaze, something on the parquet flooring suddenly needing his immediate scrutiny. “I mean, if you weren’t busy.”
    My pulse began to race. I tried to put him at ease because I was touched by his boyish charm. “I’d love to, and since you brought the wine, dinner is on me. Take your pick from the menu, and we’ll place an order.”
    Conversation flowed easily as we waited, which seemed odd to me. I thought there would be lots of stops and starts, all awkward.
    By the time the food came, the bottle Joshua brought was empty. I can’t say who had most of it, but I couldn’t recall my glass ever being empty. Making my way to the door to pay the deliveryman took a slight bit of concentration on my part. I didn’t want to appear buzzed in front of Joshua, despite the very same being true. His gaze rarely left me, to the point I felt its heated caress as I walked away from him.
    He made himself at home, opening the containers and sorting through my kitchen drawers after I placed the bags on the table. My mouth watered as we were assaulted by the scents of meat swimming in rich sauces and smoky char-grilled vegetables.
    “So wait, you did all the work and they gave your project to someone else? What a slap in the face,” he said, continuing the conversation we’d had before we’d been interrupted by the doorbell.
    “Exactly!” I don’t recall when I’d started telling him about Beth. Maybe sometime around when he’d asked what I did for a living. Tongue loosened with alcohol, I’d easily dished every bit of the office rivalry with him. I don’t know if I would have been so bold under other circumstances, but his attention made talking to him about it too easy.
    “So what are you going to do about it?” He dished out the food onto plates, and settled into his chair.
    I bit into an asparagus spear. “That’s the problem, I don’t really know. The PC thing to do would be congratulate her and take a back seat.”
    We ate in silence for a few minutes, taking sips of wine between bites. Finally he said, “But you’ve worked hard on a project you’re passionate about.”
    “And that’s why I’m tempted to assist .” I gave an exaggerated shudder as I said the last word.
    Joshua laughed, then turned serious. “It wouldn’t make you less of a person to help the project succeed. It’s about the kids. Not about what’s going on between you and Beth.”
    Of course he was right, but to hear him say it made something inside me melt. At once he didn’t seem as young as I’d thought only yesterday, but on par with any of my peers. Sure, some wrinkles around the eyes or a few strands of gray hair would have helped, but my uneasiness seemed to have vanished. “You think and act very much like an old soul. Has anyone ever told you that?”
    “Is that a bad thing?”
    “Not at all,” I murmured.
    My lids were heavy from our libation, and I chalked up Joshua’s even more vibrant appeal to having consumed more wine than I should have. I saw from the corner of my eye three empty bottles, which tattled on just how heavily we’d been drinking tonight. All of it caught up to me, and my head swam with luxuriant intensity. Unfortunately, that was also my signal. Once I started feeling this way, my inhabitations would soon fall by the wayside.
    With both our plates cleared of food and the wineglasses truly empty, I pulled the uneaten containers closer. “It’s getting late, Joshua—”
    “Josh. Please.”
    “Josh.” I smiled. It felt lopsided. “I need to put these things away and get ready to face Beth in the morning.”
    “Sure, I understand.” He put his knife and fork on the plate next to him. “But I hope we can do this again. You’re great company.”
    “I’d like that.” And I meant it. It dawned on me that we’d spent most of the night talking about