“Um, thanks,” I say, trying to shake off the eerie feeling crawling up my spine.
Once we’re done stacking the books, he thrusts his fingers through his hair and smiles at me. I display my straight white teeth.
He’s been acting strange for the last few days, like standing so close to me, complimenting me on how pretty I am.
He clears his throat and says, “I need help in my office.”
I nod as I follow him to the cramped office. His desk is made out of glass, with a computer sitting in the center. Instead of sitting at the desk, he moves a stack of paper around.
“Can you file these orders in the computer for me?”
“Sure,” I say, and I flop down in the computer chair. He stands too close to me for my liking, and I smell beer on his breath. He places both hands on the side of me, and a chill shivers up my spine, but I don’t comment.
It’s nothing. He’s being weird.
“Sometimes I wish I was younger so I could date someone as gorgeous as you. They weren’t gorgeous like you back in my day,” he says through a crooked smile.
Is this his way of flirting with me? Even though I feel uncomfortable, I’m not going to comment. I want to keep it professional.
“Ever since my wife has been sick, I never really have much interaction with women, if you know what I mean,” he sighs and leans forward.
Is he saying what I think he is?
I turn my head, my mouth inches from his, and I swallow hard, not knowing what to do. I don’t want to lose my job because I really need it. And he has been good to me since I started working here, but I don’t want to fuck up things between us. I never viewed Mr. Arthur in a sexual manner—I see him more as a father figure.
His gaze lingers on my chest. Is he trying to look down my blouse? Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. He’s never given me any indication that he was slightly interested in me. As soon as I put in the next order in the computer, I stand up slowly and face him, and he takes a few steps back and slides his hands into his pockets.
I crinkle my nose and fold my arms across my chest. “Um… why are you telling me this?”
The back of his neck turns bright pink. “Because I would like to take you out on a date. I already talked to my wife about it, and she’s okay with it.”
I don’t want to be rude toward him because he’s in a vulnerable state, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but if I’m not blunt, then he might take it as an indication that I want him. I don’t want to lead him on; he’s hurting and grieving for his wife. I stroll toward the door and place my hand on the silver knob.
“No. I have a boyfriend.”
He frowns and stares at my legs. “If I were single, would you be interested?”
“You’re not my type. Mr. Arthur. I don’t see you in a sexual way. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” His tone sounds surprised, and defeat clogs his face. “Very well.”
“If your wife is okay with you dating people while she’s sick”—it comes out sounding far weirder than I expected—“then you should get on Tinder.”
“What is Tinder?”
“It’s a dating website. Look, I’m not what you’re looking for. I’m really not,” I say.
A knock at the door startles me, and Mrs. Arthur pokes her head inside before she walks in, smiling. Her skin tone is paler, her mouth is cracked, and she has a scarf wrapped around her head. Her eyebrows are gone, and she looks smaller since the last time I saw her. She glances at me and waves.
“Hello, Autumn.”
Her cheery tone makes me even more uneasy. Is he really telling the truth about her being okay with him dating other women? And why would he want to hurt her in that way? It’s not any of my business. I don’t want to display that I feel uncomfortable about her, so I put on my best poker face and return her smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Arthur. How are you holding up?”
“I’m still living, so that is a blessing.”
I’ve never felt such awkwardness as I do right now.
