“You’re lucky we’refriends,” he says coolly, pivoting toward the machine. “I probably would have fired you by now if we weren’t.”
My mouth drops open with a little popping noise. Tears prick at my eyes. He gestures for me to come close, and I step forward, my heart hammering in my ears. Arms crossed, I watch carefully while he makes operating the intimidating-looking machine look easy peasy—although I’m already drafting my resignation letter in the back of my mind.
Accepting this job was a terrible,terriblemistake.
But what am I going to do instead? I’m injured, broke, and talentless, and I don’t have a college degree, either.Oh my gosh.I can’t even figure out how to use a fax machine!Here I come, McDonald’s.But will I be able to work the freaking ice cream machine?
Brandon gestures at the fax machine sarcastically as the number prompt opens, as if what he’s about to do is the simplest task in the world. Once he’s ascertained I’m paying attention, he jabs the fax number into the keypad and hits send. The paper goes through the machine and comes out face down.
That’s it.
My cheeks burn. “It wasn’t working before,” I mutter. “Something was wrong with it.”
“I’m sure.”
Blinking the tears away, I breathe in deeply and force a shaky smile. “Thank you,” I say, covering my ears with my hair as I turn away from him. “Sorry to disturb you like that. I know you’re busy. I’ll try and keep out of your hair from now on.”
And your life . . .
After a few seconds of silence, Brandon still hasn’t gone back to his office. Confused, I glance over at him. “Sorry, did you need something else?”
I’m shocked by the look of dread on his face. “Evie,” he stammers. “I’m sorry. What I just said was completely out of line.”
“What you said?”
“The comment about firing you.” He swipes a hand down his tie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I would never fire you. I was just—” He pauses. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough morning, and I took it out on you just now.”
Wow.
I offer a nonchalant shrug, although I’m shocked by the emotion thickening his voice. “Don’t worry about it.” I force a lighthearted laugh. “I get that I’m replaceable, okay? And we all know I’m not exactly secretary material.” I grin. “But, hey, at least this is temporary, right? You won’t have to put up with me forever.”
Frowning, he steps closer. I stumble back as he reaches for my hand. What is he doing? “I don’tput upwith you, Evie,” he insists. “I’m happy you’re here. Iwantyou here.”
“Um . . .”
“You’ve been a wonderful assistant. And you’re certainly not replaceable,” he goes on. “Not by a long shot. You are one of a kind, Genevieve.” He reaches out again, brushing his thumb along the inside of my wrist. I jerk away from his touch like he’s shocked me. “Beautifully and wonderfully made.”
Whoa. Beautifully and wonderfully made? He’s laying it on a little thick this time, isn’t he? I snort in response, but I can’t deny that the earnest look on his face is making me weak in the knees. Or maybe that’s just my bad back. Who knows. Either way, his compliment couldn’t be cornier, and yet, here I am, melting like a stick of butter in the microwave. The power this man wields over me is genuinely frightening. He is so smooth.
“You are not replaceable,” he implores.
I have to look away. “Yeah, well, tell that to the ice cream machine.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He looks at me like he wants to say more, but the front door opens, and one of his patients walks in. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
“Sure.”
I hope we don’t.
My phone buzzes as soon as Brandon is out of sight. I slide it out and glance down at the screen. One new text from Adam Smart.Great.Now that he’s not my manager anymore, there’s really no reason for him to be reaching out. There’s no doubt he’s calling to collect on the whole “let’s be friends again” thing.
I open the text.
Adam Smart:Hey! How’s the new job going?
