I put the box down and go to his door. My hands are shaking as I knock. It’s not fair of me to leave him so soon and ask him to pull strings to get me a new job, but it would be foolish not to ask.
“Come in,” Mr. Bradshaw calls.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. “Mr. Bradshaw?”
He startles a bit at the sound of my voice. He sweeps his gaze over me twice—the first time a quick assessment, the second time slower and almost . . .
I shake off the thought before it can fully form in my mind. I’m imagining things.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” he says. There’s something in his voice, as if he’s holding back the words he really wants to say.
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
He pushes away from his desk and stands to come around to my side. “You’re never a bother, Liz. What brings you here?”
I relax. The oddness I sensed with him when I first knocked on the door seems to have fallen away. I must have caught him off guard.
“If I ask you a question, do you promise to tell me the truth?” I’m surprised at the words. I should be focusing on the job, not my personal life.
His shoulders tense and something flickers in his eyes. “I can’t promise I’ll answer, but I can promise I won’t lie to you.”
I nod, licking my winter-chapped lips. My mouth is dry. Every inch of me feels like it’s been dried up, had the life sucked out of it by the cold. “Fair enough.”
His eyes flick to the door standing open behind me. “Want to close that first?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” I close the door then turn back to him. He’s leaning against the edge of his desk, legs crossed at the ankle. He looks so much like Sam. Or Sam looks like him, I guess. I know their family is close, and I’m not sure if he’ll feel as if he’s betraying Sam if he tells me the truth. Just ask.
“Why don’t you approve of me dating your son?” The second the words are out of my mouth, the second I hear them instead of think them, I realize how juvenile this sounds and my cheeks burn. I study the floor. I’m a grown woman. The only one who needs to approve of my relationship with Sam is Sam himself. No one else.
“Liz, look at me,” he says. Slowly, I lift my head. He’s looking at me oddly, his mouth twisted into a grimace, something like pain in his beautiful light brown eyes. “You know me. Better than most. Maybe better than anyone.”
I frown. I haven’t worked for him for that long, and Mr. Bradshaw keeps to himself, and when he does confide in someone, it’s family. Trusted family surrounds him. I’m the exception. I don’t actually know him that well.
“Did you really think I could watch you date my son and enjoy it?” He straightens and takes a step forward, closing the distance between us until he’s standing almost uncomfortably close. “Do you think watching you two together has been easy for me?”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, but it’s a lie.
As his hand goes into my hair, I understand all too well. Even before his hand touches my face, the truth reveals itself to me and slips right from my lips. “River.”