The cabinet gets heavier as he unscrews the second fastener, and Ioof. “Wow, this is heavy.”
He bawks like a chicken.
Softly, and good God, he’s even sexy when he’s making chicken noises.
I have a problem.
“How do you know, Tavi?” he presses. “What’s the tell?”
“I have no idea. I don’t date.”
“Tabloids and all of my customers say you do.”
“Have you been googling me?”
“No, I had a beer with Teague last night. Bridget was there. Root beer for her, before you ask. And she’s a walking encyclopedia when it comes to the book of Tavi.”
“Where was Phoebe?”
“Torturing Willie Wayne until he signed off on her plans for the new Ferris wheel? I don’t know. Quit changing the subject.” He leaps off the counter. “And pull.”
We get the cabinet off the wall and set it on the ground next to the first one.
“Nice job,” he says. “People really underestimate you, don’t they?”
“You have to be good at something for people to underestimate you.”
He pulls the screwdriver out of his back pocket and hands it to me. “Your turn. Get the next door. Also, ever think about believing in yourself?”
“But why, when low expectations mean you never let yourself down?” For the love of the Kardashians. How many times do I have to tell myself to shut up around him before I finally listen?
He takes me seriously when I say stuff like that, even if I add in the head tilt and the influencer voice.
“You’re gonna sabotage yourself with your plans for after Tickled Pink, aren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous. I’mthis closeto the life I always wanted and the life I’ve finally convinced myself that I deserve, and you think I’d just throw it away?”
He doesn’t bat an eyelash. “That thing where I was a total shit in high school? If I hadn’t been surrounded by people who believed in me and propped me up when I doubted I could turn my life around and forgave me and taught me to forgive myself, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“When you say things like that, it makes me wonder if you’re my project or if I’m yours.”
“Maybe we’re each other’s.”
We’re both staring.
We’re both staring at each other, and for the first time in my life, I have this unshakable feeling that someone sees me.
Truly sees me.
Would I sabotage an investor presentation if I was afraid it would just end in failure and that I’d let one more person down?
You bet your ass I would.
I donate my salary to preexisting charities because it’s not my fault if they fuck up.
I did my part.
Not thehardpart.
