“So you keep saying,” I say. I continue to move, trying not to show my surprise or feel self-conscious as he stays leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching me, though that second part is becoming more difficult by the moment.
“What’s the sound?” he asks after a bit.
“Music. Graham. It’s music. Happy sounds that people listen to instead of sitting in boring silence.” I bite back a smile when he glares at me. The tiniest things annoy him to no end, and like the little sister I am, I can’t help but want desperately to get under his skin. “It’s “Ring My Bell” by Anita Ward. It’s supposed to be lucky. I saw somewhere that they almost banned it from casinos, because when they played it, everyone started winning. I don’t actually know if that’s true: I couldn’t find any respectable resource on it, but it couldn’t hurt.” I’m panting now, my breathing growing ragged as I move and talk simultaneously, but when the edges of his lips tip in that almost, not quite smile, my heart rate increases tenfold. “Is it bothering you?” I ask, moving in a circle. “I can bring headphones in tomorrow, or doit in the break room.” He stares at me for a moment, then, to my surprise, he shakes his head.
“No. It’s not bothering me,” he says as the song ends, and I stop moving.
“Because you like me?” I ask. “And you want to see me happy?”
He rolls his eyes before turning back into his office and closing the door behind him without another word.
With his retreat and my song over, I sit in my seat, feeling a bunch better—sometimes you just need to get the wiggles out.
And, maybe, to get a hint of a smile from your grouchy boss.
ELEVEN
When June leaves the office for the evening, once again stopping to say goodbye despite my telling her it’s unnecessary, I’m definitely not watching her.
That would be strange and inappropriate.
I just so happen to need to fill my water bottle right after she leaves, and I just sohappento catch her walking out the side door toward the parking lot, past the small grassy spot along the sidewalk. Then Ijust so happento see her drop her things and fall to the ground.
Without thinking, I leave my water bottle on the counter and hurry outside, heart pounding.
“Are you okay?” I call, the summer heat cutting through my shirt. Her head snaps back, brow furrowed.
“Where did you come from?”
“Inside. Are you okay?” I repeat, approaching as she stays on the ground. Maybe she twisted her ankle or something?
“Am I… okay?”
Maybe she got a headache that is actually a brain bleed, and she can’t understand what I’m saying?
“You fell and didn’t get up.”
She tilts her head, confused, but her look quickly turns satisfied.
“Did you…were you watching me?”
“What? No. I went to get a drink, and then from the window I saw you drop to the ground and assumed something had happened to you. It would have been irresponsible not to check on you.”
“I didn’tdrop to the ground,”she says with an eye roll. “I paused, saw a clover patch, and then knelt down.” I don’t argue because I’ve learned June is inherently obstinate and would argue about it until sunset. “I was looking for four-leaf clovers,” she explains.
“Why?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “A little extra luck. I’ve never found one, so if I see a patch, I like to stop and check.”
“I thought you were naturally lucky?”
Instead of getting annoyed by the accusation, she grins wider. “One can always use a bit more.” Finally, she stands, then hefts her bag up over her shoulder. As she does, the handle grazes her ear, and she sucks in a sharp breath. She freezes, putting her hand to her lobe and looking around. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, too quickly to sound uninterested.
“I lost my earring.”
She kneels once more, looking around while I stand frozen in confusion. She pats the ground, moving the grass, but after a moment, she shrugs and stands with a sigh. “I’m never going to find it in this dim light. I can try tomorrow. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything precious or expensive.”
