Urgh. There is literally no coming back from that, is there? He will forever think I am the most awful woman to walk the earth. I didn’t even give him a chance. I just saw his expensive shoes, his one-hundred-dollar haircut, and the way he carries himself like a trust-fund baby, and I decided to hate him.
I’m going to be really honest here, which isn’t always easy. If he’d been wearing old, cheap shoes and looked like he’d cut his own hair, I would have had all the patience in the world to teach him how to do his job. What does that say about me as a person? Don’t answer that.
I add two heaping spoonfuls of sugar to my coffee and stir it, glad to have a few minutes to myself. I’m in the staffroom, and it’s 7:47 p.m., my dinner time, which means I have exactly thirty minutes—well, twenty-eight now—to eat, suck back enough caffeine to get me through the remainder of my shift, and sneak in some reading.
The only problem is I can’t concentrate because Leopold’s sad green eyes keep popping into my mind, and I end up feeling like some horrible person who kicked a puppy for no reason at all. Not that there’s ever a reason to kick a puppy, obviously, but it would beespeciallybad to do if the puppy hadn’t, say, bitten your nose, or torn up your favourite heels. Leotriedto do a good job, but the truth is, I’d made it extra difficult for him to be competent, then blamed him when he messed up.
It’s become obvious that he is, in fact, intelligent and can most definitely follow orders if the orders are given clearly. Once I wrote everything down for him, he has done a better-than-average job, except for the flirting. He still needs some work to tone that down, not that I’m going to harp on it. I’m not going to harp on anything because for the most part, we aren’t speaking unless absolutely necessary, which is rather awkward. I don’t even know what to say to make it better, either. “Sorry you overheard me saying awful and unfair things about you yesterday. Oh, and for trying to get you fired. We good?”
Oh, whatever, Brianna. You can’t fix it now, so just eat and study already.I open my lunch kit and my laptop, then pull out my stale bagel with cream cheese, but instead of opening my online Caribbean Tax Law textbook as I should, I open my Craigslist account to see if anyone has answered my ad.
Huh. Not one view yet. Bugger. Sitting back in my chair, I lick my fingers just in time for Leo to walk in and see me with my ring finger jammed into my mouth. Perfect.
We exchange uncomfortable nods, then I glance back down at my screen, my face hot with shame. Without saying anything, he strolls over to the fridge and gets out a takeaway container that I recognize as coming from our resort—likely the Brazilian restaurant. He dumps the contents onto a plate and pops it in the microwave. I bet his sister-in-law brought that home for him. Lucky bastard. What I wouldn’t give for a meal from the steakhouse right now. Plucking my baggie of carrots out of my lunch kit, I take one out and chomp down on it, wishing it were a juicy piece of Brazilian-spiced meat.
I stare at my ad, trying to think of ways to punch it up a bit.
For Rent: Lovely, affordable garden suite. Newly refurbished with a cozy area rug, super comfortable double bed with never-before-used bedding, kitchenette, and large picture windows. Quiet neighbourhood, private setting in back garden.
$400/month
Immediate possession available. First and last month’s rent required up front.
“What’s that?” Leo asks.
I jump a little, realizing he’s sidled up behind me and is standing over my right shoulder, smelling way too good to be a bellboy, I might add.
I quickly close the tab. “Nothing. Just…a thing.” My face glows hot as I turn to him and stare into those stupidly mesmerizing eyes.
“A thing that’s also nothing?” he asks, looking amused. “Now all I want to do is find out more…”
“It’s more nothing than something,” I say with a nod.
“Are you renting that out?”
I nod. “I’ve repurposed a shed into a little suite.”
“Is it still available?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’ll take it,” he says.
Glancing up at him, I wrinkle my nose. “No, you don’t want to live there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not exactly a luxury penthouse. It’s tiny, just basically a bed and four walls.”
“That’s fine. I don’t need much. Besides, I did the math, and it turns out I can’t afford the fully staffed, beachfront villa I had my eye on.”
I honestly can't tell if he’s joking or not. “I thought you were living with your brother?”
“It’s time I strike out on my own. You know, stand on my own two feet.” He stands and walks over to the microwave. When he opens the door, the heavenly smell of his dinner fills the room. Oh God, that is so much better than this stupid rubbery carrot that’s been sitting in my fridge for weeks.
I shake my head. “You’d hate it. Trust me.”
Nodding, he says, “Righto. You’d probably prefer someone else to let it, anyway. Someone who’s…not me.”
