"Why are you so nervous?"
"I don't know. I guess I just have a history of anxiety and stress, and I always react poorly. I either make it something to laugh about and get myself into some sort of crazy, quirky situation, or I run away, and I don't want to deal with it."
"And this is you running away?" she asks softly. “Are you going to go back?” I stare at her because the fact of the matter is, I don't know if I want to go back. I feel like I'm in over my head, and I hate this feeling.
"Is there something wrong with me? Why is it that whenever I need to do something or face something big, I always run or take the easy way out?"
"I think the simple fact of the matter is you took this job, and it's not an easy task. That's brave in itself. Of course, there are going to be moments where you doubt yourself and what you're doing. You're human.” She offers me a warm smile and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “You got this. I promise, I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I'm not going to lie, but there's just something about the family. They're different," I whisper.
"Are they mean?" She frowns. "Because if you think they're going to do something to you, I'm not letting you go back."
"No, it's nothing like that. They're just so quirky, and there's this weird undercurrent with the writing group. Just an oddvibe. Preston's really nice, but I have no clue how he ran a billion-dollar company. His wife just seems really caught up in her writing group, which is full of a bunch of people you would never expect to see together. And Amethyst… well, she's funny, but her poetry is not—" I pause. "I'm not going to say anything else about her poetry. I don't want to be mean."
"You already told me it was crap, girl."
"I know, and I regret it. That's such a horrible thing to say."
"Maybe one day I can come and listen to it." She grins.
"Yeah, maybe. And then, of course, there’s...you-know-who.”
“He who shall not be named," she says, and I nod slowly.
"It's weird because I didn't even know this man existed two weeks ago, and now, I can't get him out of my life."
"Do you think you're going to have that much contact with him? How much time does he spend in the house? Isn't he mainly in the garden?"
"I have no clue. I'm not sure if he has a room in the house or what. I just saw him in the garden today. It's one of those residences that has lots of tall open windows.”
"You really have a thing for this guy?"
"I wouldn't say I have a thing for him. I mean, our history… It's just?—"
"What?"
"It's just that maybe he's kind of cute. And maybe he has blue eyes that I kind of fall into every time I see him. And maybe now that I've seen him without his shirt on, I can't get those biceps and pecs out of my mind."
"Youtotallywant him."
"I wouldn't say I want him. I just think I’m acting thirsty."
"Girl, trust me, we've both been in a drought, and when you're in a drought, any sort of water is going to quench your thirst."
"I know, but what if he's not water? What if he's, like, tequila? You know what tequila does to me."
"It makes you drunk and fun."
"Yeah, initially it makes me drunk and fun, but then I feel sick, and I want to throw up."
"Are you saying that he makes you want to throw up?"
"No, I'm saying that if I partake in him, that is likely the outcome."
"I think you're in your head right now."
"I know, but you know how I am."
