22
Sam
She stood in my kitchen, as real and imposing as ever.Her cheeks were flushed from the chill outside, and I imagined a heat beneath the skin, that ever-present fire that I’d come to associate with all things Tiffany.
I barely knew what to expect from her words or her sudden appearance at my door.
There was a sense of purpose, not uncommon for her, but one tinged with something heated, something …
I stopped myself.Best to see what this was before I ran off half-cocked.
“Drink?”I asked, aware of the spark in the air between us.It was different tonight.Intoxicating.I’d been avoiding it for weeks now, although not very well.My only consolation was that she hadn’t appeared to have noticed my struggle or shown any returned interest—something I was now beginning to question.
Hell.
I crossed over to the bar and poured us both a measure of whiskey.
I’d barely finished pouring when she spoke.“Sam.”Turning, I discovered she’d moved closer, now only an arm's length away.Much closer than I had been expecting.
When she licked her lips, I fought to maintain eye contact.Her arms crossed over her chest.“I can’t work for you anymore.”
I abandoned the drinks, facing her.“What?Why?”
“It’s just time for me to move on.Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters.”
“I thought you’d be happy.It’s not like we get along.”
Yes.For a very valid, very inappropriate reason that was entirely my own fault.“I’m your boss.We’re not meant to get along.”
“Well, that’s just bullshit.”
“You know what I mean.”If she did, I’d be surprised.Because I was talking out of my ass, trying futilely to salvage this without having to disclose the exact reason I’d been keeping my distance from her.
“No.I don’t.Why are you fighting me on this?It’s not really your decision, anyway.I don’t want to work for you anymore.”
“Is this because I didn’t like your ideas about the menu?”
“No, it’s not.”She stood firm, her hands on her hips.Immovable.No.More like a predator in wait, an undeniable tension present.Or maybe I was hoping.I kept expecting her to lash out, get angry, but as I watched her, all I could see was indecision.As the seconds ticked by, her focus never swayed, making me itchy with anticipation.
And then, it ended.Whatever she observed in me eventually made her shake her head, and the previous tension I felt slipped away.“You know what?Sure.That’s exactly what it is.I can’t deal with you taking over the bar—”
“My bar,”
“—and I need to leave before I,” she stopped abruptly.Her eyes slipped down to my lips, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Before you what?”It came out rougher than I’d intended, and I realized, rather belatedly, that we had inched closer together.
I couldn’t let this happen.No matter how much I thought about it.
Clearing my throat, I turned back to the bar cart, eager to put some distance between us.
I gulped down a large amount of whiskey and was glad when my voice returned somewhat to normal.“Last night, you told me that no one would hire you if you quit.”
“Actually, I believe I said none of those assholes would hire me, but I have a lot of friends.I’ll be able to find something.”
“I thought we’d moved past this.”
