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“You have nothing to apologize for,” I say, eyeing the sub and deciding where to bite next. “I’m grateful you saved my job. You don’t have to keep being nice to me. I’ll be civil no matter what.”
“Anton can...” he pauses, then continues, “have his moments.”
Now that I’ve seen the man flip on a dime, I know exactly what he means.
“And it’s my fault he knew you stopped by. I called to tell him not to do anything like that again only to find out you’d acted of your own volition.” Something about the way he says the words makes me think of his father - that’s exactly how Anton would have worded that statement.
“It was my mistake. Sorry about that, by the way.” Now that I've seen another side of his father, I can't help but wonder if I'm wrong about the man. If I’ve been wrong all along, maybe Clifton has good reason to hate his father.
“No need to apologize. I understand how persuasive he can be.” Once again, there's an odd undercurrent to his voice that makes me wonder if I’ve missed something important.
I want to ask questions, but I don't dare. Clifton did save my job, but that doesn't mean he's in my corner or on my side. I have no doubt his first loyalty lies with his father if for no other reason than to save himself from jail, charges, and whatever else he might be running from.
So I say nothing at all, making sure not to incriminate myself. I don't need to get in any more trouble or be fired again. If Anton has any reason to doubt my loyalty, I'll be right back on that chopping block, and I’d rather not wind up there again.
I take another bite of my food, savoring the delicious meal. His next words make me freeze and my attention shifts to him.
“Is there any chance we can let bygones be bygones and start over fresh?”
He's got me painted into a corner and he wants to start over?
I don't understand the reason he'd say something like that and I'm cautious, not trusting his motives.
“Sure,” I say, trying to decode his meaning in those incredible green eyes of his.
He smiles and I sense his relief as his shoulders droop and the tension seems to drain out of him. “Thank you.”
He pauses, then continues speaking. “And about those kisses-”
“I thought we were starting fresh,” I say quickly, and a devilish grin lights up his features.
“Trust me,” he says.
Trust him? How can I trust the guy who went behind my back and talked to his father, nearly costing me my job? Sure, he got it back, but he’s the reason I lost it in the first place.
I know I'm not being fair; my own actions are what cost me my job.
Not so bad after all. Maybe he really is trying to be nice and smooth things over between us. Maybe I should give him a chance.
As I search his expression for any hint that he's ready to betray me, I see an unexpected vulnerability in his eyes as his jaw tightens and his throat flexes like he’s swallowing hard. He’s clearly waiting for my response, and I take a deep breath.
Do I really want to trust someone who behaves the way he does?
I exhale slowly and nod my head. “Fine,” I say.
“I’ll kiss you anytime you like, anywhere you want, wherever you prefer.” That devilish sparkle in his eyes intensifies as his words send a white-hot flare through my body as the possibilities crash like waves through my stunned brain.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say.
But he’s not convinced. “If you need to pretend you’re not interested because I’m your boss’s son, I understand.”
No, he doesn’t understand, obviously. But as I shake my head, ready to explain how wrong he is, he continues speaking. “Don’t worry, we can keep this between us.”
There will be nothing to keep between us.
But even as annoyed as I am, the smile on his face leaves me wondering if this is the start of something new, maybe the start of a friendship.
I know that Clifton is a joker, so maybe this is just his way of breaking the ice and making me more comfortable.
