I’ll have to make a trip back to Maggie’s for an almond croissant.
My nose is no worse for the wear. I’m pretty sure it was crooked before you smashed it, so if you notice a slight lean to it, don’t blame yourself.
My car will be fine. I got a closer look at it, and it may not even be worth taking it in.
You don’t have to apologize about the car. Accidents happen to everyone.
—Finn
I narrow my eyes at the screen as I read the last line of his email. “Accidents happen to everyone?” Is he serious? Yesterday he couldn’t even speak an entire sentence without being rude, and now he’s just brushing the whole thing off like it doesn’t matter? What’s changed since then?
My shoulders deflate when I realizeexactlywhat has happened since then. My job interview.
Is this a peace offering because I did so terribly that he’s trying to soften the blow when I find out I didn’t get it? What if this is aploy to lure me into a state of complacency before he robs me of my dream job?
His possible motives swirl through my mind until I can’t think straight anymore. Eyeing the coffee cup, I sigh before taking the last sip and dropping it into the trash beside my desk. I lift my shoulders and let out a sharp breath. I already lost myself to one manipulative jerk in my lifetime, and I refuse to do it again. No matter how good the coffee is.
Chapter 6
Millie
“Craft kits are done.” Micah smiles wide as he steps into the lab room with a laundry basket full of paper bags in his arms. His long sandy-blond hair is tied in a bun, and the green camp shirt we designed with our favorite insects on the back adorns his broad shoulders.
I jog over to him and peek at the binocular craft kits he and Emil put together for the camp kids today. “You’re a lifesaver.” I stand on tiptoe and kiss him on the cheek. “One-hour countdown until the kids get here.”
“Good. Plenty of time to dig into my breakfast.” Micah nods, depositing the basket on a table before pulling a thermos and something wrapped in a beeswax cloth from his bag. He squats in a kids chair in the center of the room. “Emil made it fresh right before I left.” He grins at his breakfast with greedy eyes as he unwraps it, and the smell of onion and garlic lures me over.
“You lucky bitch.” I lean my elbow on his shoulder and inhale the delicious smells of his egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich on an everything-seasoned bagel. “That looks divine.” I pull out my phone and snap a picture of Micah devouring his first bite with what I can only describe as an orgasmic expression. I add the picture in our group chat with Emil.
Millie:Where’s mine? Also, I didn’t know someone could get this kind of pleasure from a bagel sandwich. I’m feeling extremely single right now.
Emil:Micah, glad you like it, love.??
Emil:Millie, I’ll send an extra one for you tomorrow.
Lena:Can I DoorDash it? Do you deliver? I’m only a few blocks over!
Micah holds his half-eaten sandwich out for me, and I practically dive at it to steal a bite.
***
“I think this piece goes right here,” a seven-year-old instructs me while I kneel next to a table, helping Oliver and his brother Noah put together a butterfly-life-cycle puzzle. They were the first kids to arrive, and admittedly, I’m already a little sick of their arguing.
“No, you’re wrong.” Noah swats his brother’s hand out of the way.
“Okay, boys, I think it’s time for a new activity.” I point them in the direction of a few insect habitats along the wall.
The exhibit room has short tables through the middle, and the outer walls are covered in plexiglass habitats for a variety of insects. Tall, back-lit display cases bring out the bright colors of the insects, moths, and butterflies we’re showcasing.
The boys’ eyes widen, and they jump up to run along the row of habitats until they reach the biggest one.
Walking to the front of the lab room, I smirk as Micah explainsto a mother that we cannot keep her daughter from touching any dirt while she’s here. He smiles patiently while the woman goes on a tirade about how her daughter is wearing a brand-new dress.
When I glance down the hallway to check if anyone is approaching, my mouth pops open at the sight before me.
Finn Ashford walks toward me with calm confidence, wearing a pair of black slacks and a black dress shirt that makes his tan neck and face practically glow.
If there was ever a time to snap a secret picture for Lena, this is it. He looks like he’s been plucked right out of a men’s fashion magazine and set here in front of me.
