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Romance Impossible(65)

By:Melanie Marchande


"Would you shut up?"

His eyes glittered with amusement. "All right, all right," he said, sitting up straight. "I find it hard to believe you can't figure this out yourself, but here we are. She feels disrespected. It's not about the reality show, obviously. It's about a pattern of you making decisions on her behalf. 'For her own good.' She hates it when people do that, as most everyone does, but she might have a particular reason for hating it. A lot of women do, because a lot of women have dealt with a lot of bastards like yourself."

I opened my eyes, slowly, blinking until I could see straight again.

"You're not even arguing with me," Beckett said. "This is bad, isn't it?"#p#分页标题#e#

I didn't answer.

"You hired her because you thought she needed your help. Imagine how that would feel - accepting what's essentially a charity offer from someone who once stomped all over your dignity, and now feels bad about it."

My hackles rose at the very thought. I hadn't looked at it that way.

"You'd never do it. She only did it because she was pushed to the brink of desperation, and maybe because she felt she had something to prove. She wants you to trust and respect her as an equal. But you don't really trust anybody, or think anyone's your equal - which just makes the idea of winning you over even more attractive."

"You're full of shit," I muttered, even as the obvious truth of his words began to sink in.

"Damn," said Beckett. "I really thought I had it this time."

I was staring at the floor, gripping handfuls of my own hair. Why the hell did I have to be like this? Why the hell did she have to be like this?

I was never going to be the person she wanted me to be. She had to know that by now.

So why didn't she just give up?





***



Jill came to my office the next day, with her eyes cast down towards the floor.

I wanted to shout at her, for absolutely no reason, so she'd just leave - so she'd finally stop trying to reach some part of me that didn't really exist. I was sick of it. I was sick of disappointing her, sick of the way she made me feel.

But I didn't.

"I'll do it," she said, placing the signed contract on my desk. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Jill," I said.

She stood there for a while, not speaking.

"I want to apologize, again," she said, finally. "For what happened in New York. And everything else." She cleared her throat, looking up to meet my eyes. "I know it's not 'my fault,' but this...this isn't me. I don't act like this. It's just strange, because of...you know, because of my history, and...everything else." She blinked a few times, and hesitated again. "It's very unprofessional, the way I've been acting, and I'm very sorry."

I kept my fists clenched at my sides, under the desk. "Let's not do this again," I said. "Trying to lob blame back and forth. Let's just make an effort to be civil to each other, hmm?"

Her face went pale, and she stood up a little straighter. "All right, then," she said. "Sounds good to me."





***



Christmas came on fast, as it always does, and rush of tourist business along with it. We had a few weeks that were busy enough that I barely had to speak to anyone, unless it was about something practical and urgent. We stayed open late for a New Year's toast, and two days later, the worst snowstorm in a decade swept through the city.

The forecast came in the night before, but I insisted we'd stay open. Half the staff didn't bother showing, regardless. The worst of it was supposed to hit in the afternoon, and I suppose they didn't want to be stranded at work. I could hardly blame them.

We had exactly one customer, and then the white-out came.

"Something tells me I won't be leaving on time," said Jill, with her face pressed up against the window. The drifts were coming halfway up the side of the building.

"Should've closed," I admitted, as the lights flickered. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking the weather guys were full of shit," she said, charitably, throwing her jacket over one of the dining room chairs. At least the heat was still working. "Which was a pretty good bet, honestly."#p#分页标题#e#

The tension was still there, and I was beginning to realize it always would be. But we'd found a way to work together. To be civil. Friendly, even. Soon enough I'd find a way to promote her, and we wouldn't have to see each other all that often. I'd allow myself to forget the way she made me feel.

The lights flickered again, and then went out.

"Shit," said Jill and I, simultaneously.

"That's it," Liam said, back in the kitchen. "I'm going home."