“And you can’t work this out together?”
“No, she won’t budge.” At that statement, Claire glares at me from behind the counter, but I don’t care.
My father lets out a sigh. “D’accord, I’ll be there in an hour. Try to work together in the meantime.”
“An hour? Seriously?!”
“I’m not nearby. Figure something out.”
I consider telling him, “Why should I?” But I swallow the words. If I do anything to make him think that, of the two of us, Claire’s the more stable hard worker, he won’t think twice about keeping her instead of me.
He hangs up, and I look at Claire. “He’s coming, but it’ll take a while. In the meantime, we need to figure something out.”
She frowns but doesn’t protest. After a few seconds, she nods briefly. “But there’s only one apron.”
I sigh again. “The one you’re wearing is my apron. My dad has one too, but it’s far too big for either of us.”
She bites her lip, and for a moment I think I see guilt crossing her face. But whether or not it’s there, she doesn’t say anything, silently refusing to give me back my apron.
She should back the hell off if you ask me. This is my family, my store—or as good as, anyway. There’s no place for her here, just as there shouldn’t be a place for that woman at Cody’s house. These are my spaces, my safe spots. I let them out of my sight for a second, and now I’ve been replaced. All I needed was some time to learn to appreciate what I had, but I wasn’t granted it. It’s not fair.
To Claire, it may just be an apron we’re talking about, just a job, but it’s so much more. When she shows no inclination to take it off, I reluctantly head to the back to grab my dad’s apron and put it on. I’d rather be a part of this place in a way that doesn’t entirely suit me than not at all.
“My father says we should try to work together,” I tell Claire.
She looks at me, eyeing the apron that, as we already established, is way too large for me, but she doesn’t mention it. She meets my gaze instead.
“You don’t look very excited about that.”
“I’m not. I’m having an awful day, and being forced to work with you is another low point.”
Given that I don’t know her and I’m already insulting her, trying to get rid of her, she’s handling this surprisingly well.
“Well, seeing as neither of us plans to leave, maybe we should try it.”
I frown at her. “Why won’t you leave? If the roles were reversed and I was at your parent’s store, where you worked, how would you feel if I replaced you from one day to the next and wouldn’t give you your job back?”
“Probably as bad as you do right now. But honestly, you also look like the type of person who wouldn’t budge if you needed the job, so fair is fair.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Admittedly, she’s right about that, but regardless, this is going to be a very long hour.
***
When my father finally arrives, Claire and I have found a way to at least tolerate each other. She’s working on an order that came in this morning, and I keep myself fairly busy helping customers. This way, we don’t have to talk to each other or be in each other’s way. At some point, she actually states that this way of working is quite practical, but I’ll never admit that—not out loud anyway.
“Looks like you two found a way to work together,” my dad says in French as he enters, looking mildly impressed.
“For now,” I reply, glancing at Claire. “I suppose she’s tolerable, but I really need my job back, Dad. My job and...”
“And what?”
My old room. It should be easy, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. It’s embarrassing enough to admit without Claire here, a complete stranger who wiggled herself into my life when I wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t need to know just how pathetic I am. Having to face my dad is bad enough.
“And what, Luc?” my dad repeats, more impatient.
“Can we talk in private?”
“No, son, I hired Claire because you weren’t here. It’s her job now too, so if we’re going to discuss this, she deserves to hear it as well.”
