“Bravery comes in all different forms. Trusting your gut might be the most crucial one.”
His words settle into me, sinking deep and reminding me that I promised to do that this summer: trust my gut, take leaps of faith, take opportunities that are presented to me. I think about all of the ways I haven’t been brave lately, all the things I’ve been too scared to do. I want to tell him that he has the wrong idea, that I’m not that girl, to set him straight, but before I can refute his claim that I’m brave, our lunch comes, and we fall into a silence that I readily accept as possibly the biggest sign of my cowardice of all.
“Compliments like that definitely creep into friend territory,” I say with a small smile, desperate to change the topic. His face stays stoic as he watches me for long moments before opening his mouth to speak. But before he can, Rachel is back to check in on us, breaking the moment.
I wonder for the rest of the day, though, what he was going to say.
FOURTEEN
I don’t want to be friends with June Taylor, because friends would never be enough.
Hiring her was the unluckiest thing that has ever happened to me.
Still, I can’t find it in me to regret it.
FIFTEEN
The next day, Graham isn’t in the office and won’t be until later in the day. According to the email that hit my inbox at ten p.m. last night, he’s up north in Hudson City for a meeting with Rowan and the Daydream team. With him gone, I find the morning dragging, an uncomfortable boredom weighing me down. It’s strange to think that even though we spend most of the day completely separated, I’ve come to expect, and, in some way, enjoy Graham’s companionship during the workday. By the time lunch rolls around, I’m desperate for a change of scenery. Grant and the guys are on the deck, finishing up some things before next week’s inspection, so while I want to sit out there and enjoy my lunch, I know I would just be in the way.
Instead, on my lunch break, I grab the towel I keep in the trunk of my car. Weighing my options, I think about going onto the beach, but realize the sand is bound to be wet from last night’s rain and cold. Instead, I walk to the side of the building, carefully lay my towel out on a dry patch of sidewalk, and sit down to eat. I stretch out my hand and idly move it through the grassy clover patch next to me, half-looking for a four-leaf clover as my break ticks away.
After a while, a voice calls from behind me, making me jump in alarm. I quickly pull out one of my earbuds and turn to see Graham standing over me with a disapproving expression.
“Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me,” I say, rubbing at my chest where my heart is pounding.
“I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he accuses.
“I was listening to music. I didn’t hear you.”
“That’s incredibly unsafe. You should always be aware of your surroundings.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics.
“This is Seaside Point on a Wednesday before the season starts, and my brother’s on the deck with half a dozen men who treat me like I’m their little sister who needs protecting. This might be the safest place I could be, aware of my surroundings or not.”
He crosses his arms, clearly irritated with my nonchalance. I smile. “But you have a good point; next time, I’ll leave one earbud out.” He stares a long moment as if assessing the validity of my promise before nodding in approval at whatever he finds.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, looking at him and really seeing him now. He’s in the same white shirt and black pants as always, but he's holding a brown bag.
“I got back a little bit ago, figured I’d have lunch. Mind if I come join you?” I stare at him with wide eyes.
“Join me?“ I ask, completely dazed by this unexpected turn.
“For lunch,” he clarifies.
“Outside?” Despite my confusion, I shift, gathering my things to one side of the towel so he can sit down, trying to ignore how my heart is now pounding harder for a new reason.
“You said vitamin D might help with my attitude,” he says, taking a sandwich out of the bag after he sits on the towel.
He looks so out of place, all business-man hot sitting on an oversized rainbow beach towel. For a moment, I wonder ifhe owns any casual clothes, if he’s ever gone to the beach for anything other than work, and, most dangerous of all, what he would look like in swim trunks, laid out in the sand, sweaty and?—
This is your boss, June. Get it together, I remind myself, but it doesn’t seem to help in the least.
“I… I guess I did,” I say, still stunned. “Didn’t expect you’d actually consider what I said, though.”
“Figure it couldn’t hurt, just this once.” He tips his scruff-covered chin toward my hand, still in the grass. “Are you still looking for clovers?”
I nod.
