This time the gorgeous smile slides right off her face. She’s still stunning, but the rejection gets the better of her. “Are you gonna cancel my booking?”
Tek could choose the route of being a prick about it considering her inability to take a hint, but his face softens like he’s been down this exact road more than once before. “No. I’d never do that. I’ll always finish every piece I start. Even if it takes seven years to do it.”
“You’re not just saying that, right? You’d tell me if you’d changed your mind?”
“You’re booked in the second week of January. So I’ll see you then.”
Her mouth does this little twitch, like she wants to say something snide but forces it down with a smile that’s too wide to be real. “Not if I don't see you before."
Tek says nothing to that, just nods.
Brooklyn turns her attention to me, sizing me up like maybe she can spot the flaw in my design that would make Tek pick her instead. I just hold her gaze, unblinking, until she looks away.
“Well, welcome to the family, I guess,” she says to me, voice syrupy as she pulls her jacket tighter and retreats to the door.
I watch her go, half expecting Tek to change his mind and run after her like every other man on earth probably would.
He doesn’t. He pulls the stool over and sits down behind the computer, clicks through a few screens, then looks at me, unimpressed. “What?”
I toss my shopping bag onto the desk. “I got you slippers.”
He blinks. “Why?”
“Because you threw yours out.”
He doesn’t reach for the bag. “Not necessary.”
“I’ll return them, then.” I snatch the bag back and start walking towards the door, but I’m only halfway there when I hear his voice.
“Let me see.”
I pause, fighting a grin. “So now you’re interested?”
“Just show me the damn slippers, Carey.”
I take out the pair I picked and set them in front of him.
“You got the right size.” He sounds almost offended.
“Yeah, I know what big feet look like.”
Tek’s mouth twitches at the edge, and for a second it looks like he might even smile. “They’re ugly.”
“Grandma would love them,” I tease, taking the other pair out. “Mine too.”
I pull off the tags and toss them in the trash on my way to the back door. I kick off my Vans then drop the slippers onto the tiles and slide my feet into them.
“Put yours on.”
“I will in a minute.”
“Do it now, old man.”
He spins to me. “Are you five?”
“Are you eighty?”
Without looking away from me, Tek reaches back to the desk, picks up the slippers and drops them at his feet. “You happy, kid?”
