Free Just You by Jane Lark Page B

drizzled a bit of olive oil on her salad.
    “I’m doing a feature on The Giants, Keith wants me to change the color tones, and the backgrounds, and ensure we’re showing them in their best light–”
    “Why does stuff like that matter?”
    “’Cause everyone and everything has to look perfect these days, and it’s all gotta be wrapped up in a parcel with a perfect bow.”
    She looked up and met my gaze. “And then someone comes along and breaks the glass, then you realize nothing is perfect, perfect isn’t out there…”
    She was thinking of her Dad.
    I reached out and gripped her hand. “But then sometimes you discover things are better than you ever thought they could be…”
    “Portia! Justin!”
    She moved in an instant, pulling her hand from mine and standing up, as I turned in my chair to face Becky from the office.
    “Becky!” Portia gave her a hug and an air kiss. Becky looked at me, her eyebrows lifting. I smiled. It seemed my talk with Portia was off. The cat was out the bag.
    “What are you two doing?” The question wasn’t only in her words, it was in her voice as she stared at me, asking questions with her eyes too, guessing.
    “Oh,” Portia’s hand waved in the air as she glanced at me only for a second. She didn’t look me in the eyes. “He was in here when I came in, do you want to sit with us.”
    Bullshit. I wanted to grab her arm and make her tell the truth as she moved to pull up a third chair, encouraging Becky to sit. I felt like she’d punched me.
    What the fuck, Portia?
    She spent the next ten minutes gossiping with Becky like I wasn’t even here, full on in-office , and then she actually had the fucking neck to throw me a smile and ask. “Why are you being so quiet? You’re not normally quiet.” If she’d been a guy I’d have hit her. The bitch . But I played along, and nodded at them, watching her in a dream.
    Clearly what I thought had happened over the last six weeks, hadn’t happened.
    After another ten minutes, I’d finished my lunch and I’d had enough. Fuck this. I stood up, dropping my napkin on the table. “Well, nice to run into you . I’ll see you back at the office.”
    She looked up at me, her eyes full of shock. She knew I was angry. Hell, Becky probably knew I was angry, but I didn’t give at shit. Let Portia carry on her little games, but she’d be playing them by herself.
    I walked out of the deli, letting the door bang shut. The good thing I’d had going was over.
    I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets and curled them into fists as I walked along the street, dodging people and grumbling to myself. I looked up at the skyline of scrapers–exasperated. Fucking hell, Portia!
    Shit. I was pissed when I got back to the office. I opened up my system.
    Portia came back fifteen minutes later with Becky. I knew she was there. I didn’t look up. I also knew she was looking at me. Well, she could keep looking, it wasn’t gonna get her anywhere. I was done.
    ‘You okay?’ Her message came up with a little envelope.
    ‘Nope. It’s over.’
    ‘Over?’
    ‘I’m done with you, Portia. The end.’
    ‘Why.’
    ‘The fact you even need to ask that says it all. Don’t bother trying to talk to me.’
    ‘Justin?’
    I didn’t reply. I really was done.
    But when I went to the toilet later she followed. She was there when I came out. Standing in the hall, agitated, like she’d been after New Year’s when she hadn’t remembered what had happened. Maybe I should have recalled that and known her heart was never in it.
    “What?” I said to her.
    “Justin, what’s wrong.” Her fingers touched my arm. I shrugged them off.
    “Nothing’s fucking wrong. Nothing at all.” I moved to walk past her but she moved in front of me, and this time both her hands gripped my arms.
    “What… You changed like in a minute, Justin.”
    She was painting it as me in the wrong. I wasn’t in the wrong. I gripped her upper arms and shook her a little, to shake some