Everything I told her was true, and if she says yes and plays her cards right, doors that were previously closed will open for her.
I just have to make sure her ego stays in check.
Natasha comes up the stairs carrying a cleaning caddy, looking like she hasn’t slept. Walking past me to the pantry, she mutters something under her breath that I can only assume is an insult.
Choosing to ignore her, I continue working, but the entire time she’s cleaning, she keeps slamming drawers and muttering under her breath.
Annoyed, I turn to look at her, fixing her with a cutting gaze. “Is there something you’d like to say?”
“No!” she snarls, slamming another drawer shut.
I get up from my seat and approach her, determined to resolve the issue.
“If you have something you’d like to say, then say it.”
“I know why you’re here!”
My brow lifts in feign shock. “Do you?”
“You think you can convince Bianca to return with you, but she won’t.”
“That’s funny, considering I’ve yet to see Bianca.”
“Don’t act innocent! You fucked up by driving Bianca off, and now you’re desperate to get her back for Elliot, screwing over Toxic in the process.”
“I’m not the one punishing Toxic by turning all his friends against him. This bus is supposed to have a no drama rule, and yet you’re inciting aggression amongst his coworkers.”
“I’m not inciting anything!”
“Tell that to Toxic, who, over the last twenty-four hours, has been ostracized by everyone except Armando.”
She winces, feeling the weight of my words as they land, realizing that she, too, is not perfect.
This is my moment to make amends, but I don’t know how to. For me, it’s always been war, for peace would cost me everything.
She shoves past me, heading toward the bathroom.
After a long moment, I follow her. She’s on her knees, cleaning the toilet, muttering curses I can’t quite make out.
This is your chance…
“Would you like to go out for coffee? Maybe we can hash things out over caffeine and chocolate.”
All at once, she leaps to her feet, spins around, and points the toilet wand at me.
“You think I want your high-classy coffee?”
I take a step back to give her some room. “I drink Dunkin’ when the mood hits.”
She shoves the toilet wand in my face. “You think you’re so much better than everyone when really you were just born into a rich home.”
“I won’t argue with you,” I tell her, bringing my hands up in surrender.
“What’s your game plan, Sam? If you really cared about hashing things out, maybe you’d help around the bus!”
I consider taking the toilet wand to finish cleaning the bathroom, Carl be damned, but just as I’m about to open my mouth again, the scent hits me and my stomach twists.
“Come on, Samantha—hash things out!” She brings the wand mere inches from my face and I whack it from her grip and take a step forward, clenching my hands into fists.
