Her hands come together in front of her apron as her head droops forward. “I…wanted to apologize, but if you’re coming to fire me, I understand.”
Fire her?Fire her?Never. “I’m not,” I say, wet my lips, contain myself. “I was coming to ask exactly what about me you find repulsive.” I force air into my lungs. “It’s important to me that you feel safe in your work environment, so if I’ve somehow done something to turn you off to me, I want to rectify that.”
Her head lifts, blue eyes fixing on me. Her slender brow furrows. She glances sidelong before returning her attention to my face. “I…don’t feel unsafe.”
Something very close to hope sparks inside me. “You don’t?”
Her head shakes.
“Then…”
“I am not fond of you, as a person.”
The hope shatters. “O-oh.”
Her entire being tenses. “I mean…” Her hands move behind her, to her apron tie, and I have a feeling it’s going to be undone before this conversation is over. “Sorry. That’s not what I was trying to…” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m not good with people. I don’t really understand the rules. I normally just smile and shut up and look sweet enough to get by. You’re very hard to talk to, worse than most. And earlier when you were saying that stuff about fake dating, I forgot to behave myself. I hate lying. It’s already so hard for me to communicate. When people aren’t honest, though? It’s so much worse. I’ve caught you lying to me once before, and now you’ve asked me to lie with you, and I can’t tell what you’re thinking, ever. You are respectful of me, as far as I can tell, but I am deeply uncomfortable around you in a…person to person manner, not an unsafe one.”
I…
My mouth opens, and hangs open.
She doesn’t like me.
At all.
In big ways.
And it’s not because I make her feel unsafe—she just plain doesn’t care for my character, how I carry myself, who I am.
“Uh…” I close my mouth, try to regain the moisture I’ve lost. Lifting my hand, I bury my fingers in my hair. Panic rises as delusions of a future together splinter in my skull.
“Mr. Anders?” Her sweet, perfect voice wavers, drawing closer. “Are you okay, sir?”
No. No, I am not okay. Not at all. And I might never be okay again.
Gripping the roots, I attempt to ground myself in the tug of my hair in my fist. Hoarse, I…lie. “I’m fine.”
Mirabelle stops, and her arms fall to her sides. Gentle, she says, “This is what I mean. I don’t know anything when it comes to you. You don’t seem fine. What am I supposed to believe?”
“Believe what I tell you.”
Her tone hardens. “Even when I know you’re lying to me?”
Dropping my arm, I clench my fists at my sides and meet her eyes. “Yes.”
Her face darkens as the last rays of sunlight siphon from the sky, leaving only deep blue hues behind. Her gaze pierces me before she drags it away. Tangling her fingers together, she says, “I’d like to keep my job. Please.”
Rough, I say, “Your job is never in question.”
“Okay. Then, I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier. I didn’t mean for what I said to come off so harsh. I should have kept my thoughts to myself.”
“I don’t want you to ever keep your thoughts to yourself. I’m…likethisbecause of my environment. I need to keep my cards close to my chest. I need to maintain an outward appearance that is unwelcoming. Being hard to read is how I maintain control in tense situations or during difficult matters of business. It’s not something I’ve had much practice turning off and on.” Closing my eyes, I let the sensation of my short nails biting into my palms ground me. “I am very fond of you, Mirabelle Peters. I admire your work ethic. I extol your character. You are a refreshing breath of honest air in my life. There are very,veryfew people I trust, but you are one of them. If there is anything—anything—I say that you believe, let it be this: I am never trying to hurt or harm you. Ever. I will always want what is best for you, and while I may not know how to give that to you, it is my desire to. I do not want you to mute yourself around me.”
“You don’t understand what that means.”
“Then teach me.”
“I don’t…understand why you’d want me to. My job is to make your life easier. I can promise you that being myself would not make it easier.”
