Does she even have any? She seems like a sure person, someone who doesn’t crumble under pressure.
She rolls her lips together, glancing away, and I assume it’s because she’s thinking about it, but I realize it’s to stop herself from smiling.
She sighs but I hear the tiny chuckle that escapes her mouth. “I…bake. Yeah, that’s what I do. I bake.”
It sounds like she just thought of that on the spot. “Bake like baking food or getting baked?”
Anna scoffs but smiles a little, making me feel proud thatIdid that. “I don’t smoke weed. At least not anymore, but that’s beside the point and not what I meant. I meant food.”
“Did you really, or is there something else? Because I feel like there’s something else you don’t want to share with me and that’s rude.”
“Rude? How’s that rude?”
“You stand there judging me for smoking a cigarette that isn’t harming anyone?—”
“But yourself.” She gives me a pointed stare.
“That isn’t harming anyone,” I repeat, ignoring her. “Then you said there are many ways to deal with calming my nerves, but you haven’t given me something solid, and your answer sounds like a load of bullshit. I’m sure you bake, but I don’t think it’s something you actually do to calm your nerves. Or am I wrong?”
She rolls her eyes, not like she’s annoyed but like she’s been caught in her lie. “I do bake to calm my nerves but I also—We’re past the two-minute mark.” She changes the subject. “And it’s freezing out here, so if you don’t mind, I need to go back inside to?—”
“I picked up after myself. I swear it’s not as bad as it used to be.” I pause and inhale, struggling to breathe again and not grab another cigarette. “I’m sorry about how I left things, but I promise from now on, I’ll be better about cleaning up.”
Her brows shoot up and she stands straighter. “Don’t worry about it. This is what I get paid to do.” She goes quiet like she’s contemplating something. “Thanks for not getting me fired.”
The tension in my body evaporates. “I told you that wouldn’t happen, but that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry about three years ago. I had nothing to do with the grades or?—”
“Let’s forget it happened and never bring it up. It doesn’t matter anymore. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’m sorry about all the fuck-yous—well, no, some of those were deserved.” The amused tone in her voice widens my smile.
“And Friday—do we forget that happened, too?”
Thatmakes her take a few steps back, the levity between us gone. “Yes. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had been drinking and?—”
“Don’t say that.” I push away from the glass. “Don’t blame this on the alcohol. You know it had nothing to do with it.”
She squares her shoulders. “Yeah, okay, it didn’t, but it happened, and I’m over it.”
I’m not sure I am, and I don’t feel like she is either, but she’s shivering, and now I feel like a bigger dick for bringing her out here. Fuck, why can’t I think straight?
“Are you done?” she asks.
“Areweokay?” I ask.
“Wearen’t anything. I work for you. Friday shouldn’t have happened,” she expresses with a severity to her tone. I can’t help but grimace.
“You don’t work for me. My parents were the ones who hired the company you work for.”
“Does it matter? I’m still here cleaning your home.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, good luck, and let’s work on never running into each other again.”
Shooting me in the balls would have felt better than what she just said to me.
Anna goes to walk around me, but I stretch my arm out, stopping her from moving any farther. I’m nothing if not a persistent fuck. “So, what calms your nerves?”
She tips her head up, staring up at me through her lashes. I note the clear contacts shielding the surface of her eyes and how her pupils dilate just a fraction.
Her chest rises, throat bobbing, and she stretches her lips into a sultry smile. Am I seeing that right?
“My fingers.” She ducks under my arm and steps back inside, leaving me wondering what she means by that.
