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"Go on, old Sport." Gatsby said, a disappointed smile touching his lips.I could not prevent myself from staring. I had hoped he would stop me from leaving.
"Are you sure? I suppose I don't have that much work to do." I told him, he brushed off me off again.
"Now, don't you go worrying about me, old sport. I'll be fine. Why I have all my servants. I'll ring you if anything happens." His smile became genuine as he spoke.
"No," A thought occurred to me. "I'll ring you. You wouldn't be able to get through the lines on Wall Street anyway." With that I left. I could feel his stare on my back, every through the cab window as I drove away. I had to tell him eventually. I couldn't just watch him suffer like this. But, he was in love with Daisy, a woman. Not once had he even suggested that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in me too. It was nearing lunch time, and the bonds agency had become increasingly frantic. The company seemed to reflect the growling stomachs of the workers.
I got a call just as I hung up on the last of my customers before lunch.
"Nick! Nick! Can you hear me alright?" Gatsby seemed panicked out of breath.
"Why of course I can." I couldn't resist the grin that seemed to be a knee-jerk reaction to simply hearing Gatsby's voice. I gave a small laugh, "Why wouldn't I be able to?"
"Nick, look, I don't have much time-" there was a crash in the background as something, a lamp perhaps hit the ground. Muffled yelling, came in scratchy from the background. "Nick, there's a man here. He's yelling. Yelling something about his wife. How he knew, knew that I was sleeping with her?" Gatsby sounded frayed, maybe even a bit afraid.
"Tom?" I asked, aghast.
"No, no not Tom. I don't know this man. Look, Nick-" A shattering crash. My heart seemed to crash with it. "Nick, I need you to call-" Something, maybe a door was being pounded on. Gatsby didn't speak for what must have been five minutes.
"Who? James? Who do you want me to call? The police? I-"
"No!" Gatsby nearly shouted through the line. "No, Call Wolfshiem. No one else."
"Gatsby!" Another crash this time followed by distinct shouts. The man was yelling something about having found him. That he was going to kill him, like Gatsby had killed his wife.
"No one else. I've got to go. He's getting- He's getting close."
"Gatsby, I need to tell you, in case you don't make it. I need you to know that I- I am in love with you." I murmured into the phone. Nothing came from the other side except for banging noises, and- oh my goodness, were those gunshots? I hung up and dug around my desk for Wolfshiem's number.
When Wolfshiem answered, after three calls, I nearly couldn't say what the problem was. When I had, Wolfshiem told me he would handle it, and I shouldn't be worried.
I didn't take lunch. I instead went straight to Gatsby's home, I didn't pause as I got out of the cab. I followed the noises until I found myself near the room where the shots were the loudest, the library. I reached for the handle. Before I could reach the door, it burst open and Gatsby flung himself out of the room, and nearly landed on me.
Gatsby shocked, grabbed my hand and pulled me with him, as we ran through his house a warm feeling overtook my stomach. He was alive. Not only was he alive, but he was holding my hand.
We burst out of his front door and rushed into the back door of my house. We plopped down onto the couch, out of breath and stared at each other. Suddenly, a strange urge to laugh overtook me. I couldn't believe it.
Any happiness I had died with the realization that Gatsby- Gatsby- had heard my confession. He knew. He knew that all this time I had loved him. Now, our friendship might be coming to an awful end.
"Gatsby- about what I said... I didn't- I didn't mean-" I started.
"Don't worry about it, old sport." He stood and sat next to me. "I'm in love with you, too." He turned his head so I could stare into his eyes. I could see the truth in what he was saying, yet I couldn't believe it.
"What about- What about Daisy? You loved her didn't you?"
"That was before. Now somebody else has caught my attention."
"Before?" I decided to ignore the second part. "Before what?"
"Before I met you." He was leaning into my space. Suddenly, incredibly close, and I didn't want him to move.
When the phone rang nearly thirty minutes later, neither of us could tear ourselves away from our impassioned kiss.