“No, it doesn’t.” She laughs, and her chest rises in my face, bringing with it a rush of the sweet, floral tones of her perfume. I keep my gaze respectfully averted.
“I should have announced myself. I’m sorry. It didn’t cross my mind that it would be dangerous, but looking back, I really should have. I didn’t know this place had been robbed before, not that that’s an excuse at all. You were here alone, so I should have thought about it.”
Calliope leans closer, her delicate fingers moving over my forehead where a throbbing, bruise-like pain is beginning to build. She tsks softly and continues to apply two more butterfly stitches, then she steps back and our eyes meet.
“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing, attacking you or trying to tell the 911 operator that everything was fine. He sounded so pissed, I thought I was going to get arrested for wasting time or something.”
“It can’t be the first time something like this has happened.” I chuckle. “Maybe not the crown, but definitely the accidental dial.”
Calliope smiles and her entire face lights up, though it falters when my phone rings for the umpteenth time. I hit deny and pocket it.
“Okay, how are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Honestly?”
“Yup. One hundred percent.”
Calliope squints at me and clearly doesn’t trust my answer, but it’s the only one I’ll give. I don’t want her to feel too guilty about this. “Can I see?”
“Oh, sure!” Turning back to the table, she sets down her tweezers and picks the mirror out of the medical kit. Then she holds it up for me to inspect her work.
The gash is a couple of inches long on the right side of my forehead and a fresh bruise blooms out around it like the petals of a flower. Despite this, it’s neatly held closed by the butterfly stitches Calliope carefully applied. “It looks really good, thank you.”
“You shouldn’t thank me,” she groans. “Not when I did it. God, you must think I’m insane.”
“For protecting yourself? Not at all.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“And I accept the apology. It’s really okay. How did you get so good at this?” I indicate to my stitches as she sets the mirror down.
“Nick.” She smiles warmly. “And avoiding hospital bills I can’t pay.”
“Ah, understandable.” Guilt nestles like a hard ball beneath my ribs. I didn’t even consider that. “You said this place has been robbed before?”
“A couple of times. We hold stock here, as you’ve seen. Against all my advice, butJimmy knows best.” She rolls her eyes while focusing on packing up the kit. “And with the mail pickup we?—”
My phone rings again. I ignore it once more.
“Basically put a target on our backs since he also pulled back on security, which is really dumb. I was here the last time it got robbed, maybe spring last year? So when I heard the thumps I thought… Well, I don’t actually know. I just panicked and reacted.”
“My poor tarts,” I say mournfully. “I passed Victoria in the elevator and she said you were working late. Since I was too, I thought I’d bring you a snack.”
Calliope’s cheeks suddenly glow a soft pink as she gazes at the ruined tarts. “I can’t believe you dropped them.”
“Me either.” I chuckle. “I was—” Again, my phone rings and I groan.
“Someone really wants to talk to you,” Calliope says, snapping the kit closed.
“My ex,” I sigh. Out of the corner of my eye, Calliope freezes.
“Your ex?”
“Mmhmm. I’d turn my phone off, but there are other people I need to talk to, so, y’know.” Shaking my head as my phone rings again, my gut flips. “She just can’t take a hint.”
“Messy breakup?” She doesn’t look at me as she moves away and returns the med kit to the top cupboard above the terrible coffee maker.
