Do I grovel? Spell out how much I need this job? My old position at the private clinic paid half as much, and that’s when the shifts weren’t getting cut at the last minute. Not to mention the benefits here are actually worth something. And it’s not just about the money—though God do I need it. I love it here. In a few short weeks I’ve built real connections withthe players and staff. This place already feels more like home than anywhere I’ve worked.
By the time I’m standing in front of his door, I’m no closer to having a plan. So, like most things in my life, I’ll play it by ear and hope for the best.
I knock lightly, as if the door might bite me.
“Come in.”
I step inside. His office is nicer than I expected—warm sunlight spilling through a wide window, muted grey tones, and neat, uncluttered surfaces. Minimalist and maybe a littletooorganized for my taste, but it’s inviting.
The man behind the desk, however, is anything but.
“That’s a big desk,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
Arthur’s mouth twitches like it wants to smile, but it just can’t bring itself to go through with it.
“Which makes sense,” I add, gesturing loosely toward him. “You’re a big man.”
His gaze locks on mine, holding it so long my skin starts to heat. “So I’ve been told.”
The air in the room feels thick as he leans back in his chair, broad shoulders filling the space, forearms resting easily on the armrests. “I’m sure you know why you’re here, Ms. Baker.”
Oh god. Is he going to fire me on the spot? No trial, no jury, just him making the call? My stomach plummets as my heart rate goes into maximum overdrive.
“I didn’t mean to.” The words spill out in a rush. “I was impulsive and didn’t think about the consequences.” Why, Elliot? Why did you have to tell the man off, no doubt wounding his fragile male ego?
“Clearly.” His tone is so dry it could crumble to dust. Why does he have to be such a dick about this? I have to curl my fingers into my palms to keep from throwing something athim.
Don’t lose your temper. Don’t make this worse.
“I’m sorry. I really am. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
His head tilts, studying me. “How,” he says finally, “could you possibly think that was a good idea?”
I release the breath I’ve been holding. “Look, I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you and it won’t happen again. I know you don’t like me, but can we please keep this professional?”
He rears back in his seat, surprised.
“Professional? You brought a box of penis cookies to your place of work and you wantmeto be professional?”
I feel the exact moment the blood begins to drain out of my head. It starts like a prickle at the top of my scalp, and moves quickly past my eyes, nose, and mouth leaving me lightheaded.
“I…”
“The note was a nice touch.” He continues as he picks up a familiar looking pink piece of paper and reads my own writing to me. “‘Shoot for the stars.’ Cute.”
“I didn’t…those weren’t…” I think I might faint.
Apparently, Arthur thinks the same thing. He bites back a curse as he pushes himself up and walks around his desk. When he reaches me, he takes my forearms gently in his hands.
“Sit down, Elliot.”
I comply, landing heavily in the chair.
“Good. Take some deep breaths for me.”
I suck in air and let it go, dropping my head between my knees in an attempt to remain conscious. I’m not sure how long I’m like this when I feel something cold and cool against my hand. I sit up to find Arthur offering me a can of sparkling water.
I accept it, gratefully, immediately bringing it to my lipsand taking a few small sips. I don’t want to drink too much as I still think I may be very close to throwing up.
