“I might look into a clinic job. Or Columbia.” She glances at me, probably half expecting me to voice my debate on why that is the worst possible option.
I decide againstthinking out loudso I can avoid coming off as an overbearing boyfriend. “I see.” I clench my jaw and talk through my teeth. “Is that what you want?”
Please say no.
“I don’t know . . .” Looking down at our hands, she deflates as she lets out a sigh.
I have a feeling she does know, but she doesn’t want to admit it. It would seem selfish and she is the least selfish person I have ever met. Why wouldn’t she want to go to her alma mater to teach and do research,andtreat patients in their clinic? That has Eleanor Bailey written all over it. Her entire career has led her to this point, a chance to do something like this. And I can’t be the one to tell her not to do it. She’s telling me she can’t be the reason I lose my job. But I could be the reason she never gets the one she truly wants. Who’s the selfish one then?
I tilt her chin up, taking in her deep misty green eyes. “You can tell me, Eleanor.”
She takes a deep breath, holding it a little too long before answering “The job is perfect.” The mistiness pours over.
I force a smile and wipe a tear off of her cheek. “Then you should go to that interview.”
Chapter twenty-six
Benny
“Youtoldhertogo?” Malcolm looks at me like I’m a crazy man. Not really validating the doubt I have going through my head right now.
“What else was I supposed to do?” I groan as I wipe up the coffee creamer I spilled all over the break room counter.
I’ve been whining around like a child since Ellie decided to go through with the interview. Rather than be an adult and share my feelings about it openly with anyone, I’ve just let it simmer and this morning it finally boiled over. The sight of Ellie’s favorite cinnamon creamer just made me mad, so, of course, I knocked it over.
“Telling hernotto go might have been a start,” Malcolm says, leaning up against the counter. He eyes me as I wipe up, not offering to help. “You missed a spot.”
“Thanks,” I grit through my teeth, wiping the counter more aggressively as he chuckles.
“You got it bad, Ben.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“Sure.” He walks away and sits at the table, topping off his cup from his personal pot. “It wouldn’t kill ya to be honest with the girl.”
“It’s not like I’m hiding anything.” I throw away the pile of soaked paper towels and rinse off my hands. “I just don’t want her to feel obligated to stay when she has an incredible opportunity.”
“There’s more than one option, Ben.”
“And what would that be?” I ask, taking a seat in the chair next to him.
“You could go with her.”
Choking on the coffee I just drank, I say, “Wha . . . ?”
He shrugs matter-of-factly, like what he just said didn’t almost give me a brain aneurysm. Leave Glendale? The idea has never once crossed my mind. He’s insane.
“Why not?” He downs his cup like it’s a shot of water. “We could survive without you.”
“Gee, that makes me feel so good.” I slouch back into my chair, turning my mug in a circle on the table. The pink pug mug, Kate’s old pug Hilda, looking back at me.
“I’m just saying.” He pauses and lets out an exasperated sigh as if what he needs to say pains him. “Look, you’ve done a lot of good here and you are kind of irreplaceable.”
I flutter my eyes and put my hands over my heart like I’m flattered by his amazing compliment.
“Watch it.” He points at me.
He hates compliments, giving and receiving them, so much so that he will leave the room during end of term evaluations to avoid positive feedback or praise. He’s a content man, who believes flattery is used to seek favor from someone rather than truly encourage them. I can see why, considering he grew up in an overly optimistic household that ended up in messy infidelity. The flattery he witnessed between his mother and father were lies.
