I feel really stupid all of a sudden, dumb for doubting him and silly for barging in here in the first place. But most of all, I’m embarrassed for bringing up the “redesign.” And Penny.
Normally, I think the best of people’s intentions. I know I do. But something about this man has my brain screwed up and my thoughts irrational and my heart hurting at the slightest affront. Something about him has everything all twisted up inside me, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.
“I…I don’t know,” I mutter. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m mad. I’m just…tired, I guess.” And I am. Suddenly, I’m exhausted, not just from the day but from holding on to this ridiculous anger for too long. This ridiculous, dare I say it,jealousy. I drop down onto the couch opposite his desk. “My stupid car broke down again, and I had to get it towed. And…” I hesitate, staring down at my hands.
“And?” he prompts.
“And someone at work told me you talked to Rachel and saved my job. It made me feel, I don’t know, like I’m starting to owe you too much or something.” Frowning, I glance up at him to find his face carefully blank. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s not a big deal,” he says simply. I open my mouth to protest—it was ahugedeal—but he cuts me off. “Violet, come on. It was the least I could do after my mother threw that insane fit. I wasn’t going to let you lose your job over it.”
“I guess,” I mutter.
Landon sighs. “Look. We’re doing a video shoot for Prolimbinary’s website in a week. If you want a way topay me back,you can make the desserts for the shoots. Cookies or cupcakes or some shit with the company logo on it. I don’t care.”
At first, I don’t think I heard him correctly. “You…want me to bake desserts for your shoot?”
“Yeah. That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“But…there are a million bakeries in town.”
“If you don’t want the opportunity, just tell me, Violet.”
“No! No.” I jump up from the couch, wide awake now, bouncing from foot to foot with excitement. “I wouldloveto make the desserts. Likeloveit.”
Landon’s trying—and failing—to hide his amusement at my abrupt change in demeanor. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”
“I’m good. I’m good.”
"Make sure they’re colorful for the kids. Something fun.”
I smile at the thought of Landon wanting somethingfunandcolorful.“Of course. Who are these kids? Child actors?”
“No. We’re featuring a bunch of our clients.”
“Parker?”
He nods. “Yeah. We’re going to take some shots of him on his skateboard, providing his ankle’s okay.”
“That will be so cool!” I gush. “I can’t wait. I have so many ideas! Do you want me to run some by you? One option could be vanilla cupcakes with raspberry buttercream—”
“I trust your judgment,” he says quickly.
“Right. Okay.” I snap my fingers a few times and point at him. “You won’t regret this.”
Landon’s staring at me like he’s considering checking me into a loony bin when his phone chimes. Picking it up off the desk, he reads the message, frowning at the screen in that way he does. The way that makes me wonder who’s on the other end.
“What’s wrong?” I ask before I can think better of it.
His eyes slide up to mine. I half expect him not to answer, but he surprises me. “Potential investor canceled a meeting we had scheduled.” He tosses the phone back on his desk, clearly annoyed. “Fucker.”
“Why did he cancel?”
He gives a long, drawn-out sigh. “Probably for the same reason as all the other ones.”
“Which is?”
“Apparently, there’s not a lot of people interested in makingaffordableprosthetics for kids.”
