Breaking Even(51)
I laugh when my car cranks on the first try. It usually takes a few key turns to start it, and it purrs instead of squealing like it’s in pain. When I shift it into drive, I almost break the gear stick. Normally it’s so hard to put into place, but now it just glides almost too easily.
I can’t help but giggle, and a tear escapes my grasp. Pulling away from the curb is so easy because the steering is so much better. Everything is better. The rear isn’t shaking when I try to tap the brakes. Brakes! They’re not screeching!
I almost do a happy dance when my car stops without sliding a few extra feet. It’s a whole new car. The radio starts playing, but it’s all in Spanish. I glare at it for a second when I reach the stop sign.
Every time I try to change the station, a box pops up and asks for the password. He did this on purpose, and I can’t stop smiling.
Rye. I have to go talk to him. I refuse to let one kiss screw up our friendship. And there’s something else I want to do.
***
RYE
“I’ve got five-hundred dollars here, but I know that’s nowhere close to covering it, so I’ll make monthly payments,” Brin says, sounding very close, and I almost jump out of my damn seat.
Where the hell did she come from? And how long has she been in my office?
“Um... I told you it was on me,” I say lamely, cringing at how juvenile I feel in this moment.
Her hair is pulled back, her shorts are too short for me to ignore, and her shirt is tighter than usual. She would go buy fucking clothes that fit the moment I start having issues.
“No,” she says, putting an envelope on the table. “I don’t want you doing me any favors. I can pay you back. It might take me a while, but I don’t like owing people anything.”
She might as well slap me. This is all because I ruined things between us.
“I’m not taking your damn money, and if you try paying me, I’ll never talk to you again.”
I push the envelope back across the desk, and she glares at me. Christ, I love it when she’s angry.
I’m twisted.
“It’s not like you want to ever talk to me again anyway. You kissed me and ran off like I had some disease. Which I don’t, by the way.”
Fuck. We’re apparently going to talk about this now. Here. And I’m not ready.
“I’m sure you don’t,” I mutter dryly. “But I’m sort of at work. Can we talk about this later?”
“No,” she says with a shrug, pushing the envelope back toward me again. “Because you won’t be talking to me later. I’m paying you back.”
She moves to the far corner, putting distance between us when her hands start to tremble. I really don’t want to do this right now.
Jessica walks in, wearing a dress she must have been poured into, and Brin’s eyes go to her, appraising her. I know what she’s thinking right now because I see it in her eyes. And Jessica doesn’t even notice the corner Brin is in.
“Your lunch meeting is in twenty minutes, Mr. Clanton,” Jessica says with a baby voice. Why do girls talk in a baby voice on purpose? Wouldn’t that only appeal to a pedophile?
“Thanks,” I say quickly, hoping she gets the hint to leave.
She doesn’t.
“And I wanted to know if you need me to stay late tonight?” she asks, going into a sexier voice that has Brin inching toward the door.
Fucking shit. She’s getting the wrong idea. Does Jessica always talk to me like this? Am I just super aware of it now that Brin is standing five feet away?
“I can’t imagine there would be any reason why you would have to stay late.”
“I can think of a few reasons,” she says seductively, and I visibly grimace.
“I should go,” Brin announces, and Jessica squeals and jumps, startled by the fact someone else is in the room.
“I’m so... sorry,” Jessica stammers. “I didn’t realize there was a client in here.”
Brin smiles tightly, and before I can correct her, Brin starts talking. “It’s fine. I’m just on my way out.” Then she looks at me. “And I’ll send the rest of the payments through Maggie from now on. That way... Well, I’ll let you get back to your conversation.”
She’s gone before I can even get my tongue untangled, and Jessica turns back to me with fear in her eyes.
“I really am sorry, Mr. Clanton. I honestly didn’t know anyone else was in here.”
I groan while gripping my head, and then I slam shut the drawer to my right while standing up. I need to go for a ride and clear my mind.
“That’s not really the issue, Jessica. I hired you for a number of reasons—one being the fact that my clientele is ninety percent men. And maybe I enjoyed the flirty nature at first, but this is work. Work means acting professional. If you can’t do that, then find a new job. Cancel my noon meeting. I’m leaving early.”