“I wouldn’t do that.” My face and ears feel like they’re on fire.
“I know.”
“Okay . . .” I say, frowning as I look up over my shoulder. He grins down at me, looking totally at ease—as if he knew all along I would never do such a thing. Admittedly, it irritates me. He’s so arrogant. “Well, I should go.” Brushing his hands off, I stand.
“I didn’t think there was anus,” he says quietly, and I pause. “To tell Jamie about, I mean.”
His words sting. Is he really going to pretend nothing happened between us? I’m so hurt that I don’t reply, just book it toward the exit.
Coming here was a mistake.
When I reach the door, I turn back abruptly, indignant now. “Brandon, what’s therealreason you want me to be your assistant? Just cut the crap for once.”
Without fanfare, he walks over to his patient couch and sinks down onto it, then gestures for me to join him. I hesitate, but my curiosity gets the best of me, and I sit down beside him, mindful to keep a safe distance between our bodies. He sits so he’s facing me, acting oblivious to my discomfort—despite the fact that I know he’s an expert in reading body language.
“The reason is threefold, really,” he begins.
“Okay . . .”
He smiles. “I don’t like that you’re constantly burnt out at your current job, Evie. Caregiving is great, but you don’t know how to maintain boundaries.”
Ha.I can’t help but snort. He’s one to talk.
He ignores me. “And with that potential diagnosis—” My mouth opens, but he lifts a hand to silence me. I wave him onward. “Second, you make so little money at the agency.”
I grit my teeth together.Grandma!
“It’s not fair.”
Lots of things in life aren’t fair.I wave him onward again, bored of this same old conversation.
“And remember, if you made what you deserved to make, you’d be able to save up for that trip to Europe quicker.”
I’m surprised he cares so much that I never got to go on that trip. I’ve been tempted to give up on the idea altogether. It seems like every time I save up a significant chunk of money, it has to go toward something else—like an ambulance bill. But he really seems to want to make the trip happen for me.
I find that strangely . . . romantic.
“And even if youdidhave the money, you’d never get the time off because you’re so understaffed. Third . . .” He hesitates, then takes a deep breath, twisting his hands between his thighs. “I know you don’t trust me anymore, Evie.” His voice lowers. “And I don’t blame you. Not one bit.” I suck in a breath when he glances over and reaches out, trying to take my hand in his. But I recoil from him, and he flinches like I’ve slapped him. “But I want a chance to earn that trust back. So if you won’t allow me to be your friend, well . . . I could settle for being coworkers.”
I stare at him for so long that the silence should make him uncomfortable, but nothing phases Brandon. He gazes back resolutely, giving me space to think.
If it weren’t for all the people who are counting on me, I might be persuaded by his touching argument. “A lot of people depend on me,” I whisper, thinking of Bert.
He nods. “I understand. But can you let me know by Friday if you change your mind?”
My eyes roam his desk as I contemplate. They land on that photograph again—the one where I’m clinging to Brandon, and Adam is clinging to me. It strikes me as ironic now. How telling of how our future would pan out.
I sigh. At some point, I’m going to have to cut ties with Brandon for good. I won’t be able to do that if I’m at his beck and call, running his silly errands as his administrative assistant.
“I’m sorry, Brandon.” I rise abruptly. “I can’t work for you. I didn’t mean to give you false hope.”
He stands. “Okay. I’ll still wait until Friday.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t hold your breath.” I snort under my breath. “Or do. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Chapter 12
Brandon
