Page 40 of Apparently, I’m Torture

“So you’ve been minding your business then? Looking after yourself first?”

I stiffened. The accusation in his tone was back.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I try to help my students when they need me.”

“Even if it means you’ll lose your job in the process,” he drawled.

I stood, and as my weight left the chair, it collapsed underneath him. He righted himself and the chair before either could land on the ground, and I huffed as I turned, wishing he would embarrass himself for once.

“What’re you talking about?”

His dark eyes flashed. “Mia told me about Mrs Hernandez. And about Trevor. Lilly, you know you’re not supposed to give your personal number to parents. That’s something Trevor can hold over you, even if things go right here. You know that, don’t you?”

I was too frustrated to take stock of the concern and care in his glance. I was too tired, too irritated, to feel anything other than exactly that as I snapped.

“Why do you care what I do? You spent the past five years treating me like a bad smell, Shawn. You don’t get to give me advice anymore.”

Stricken, he jerked back as if I’d slapped him. “Fine. Just get back to work so we can get out of here.” He shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Torture was fucking right.”

I pulled my chair to me and sat as he ran a hand through his hair, irritation pulling every muscle tight.

Well. I got what I wanted, didn’t I? We were… talking. And I was making progress here. Now if I could just get the module completed and a new tutor lined up, my job would be safe, and I could put all of this behind me.

Chapter 15

Lilly

Thursday Afternoon

Verra Convention Centre

It was Thursday. The day after Wednesday. The day before Friday. Oh, how I hated Thursday.

Normally, Thursday was fine. Thursday was the eve of the final day of work. Thursday was a petering down of duties, responsibilities, worries. Thursday was a day of planning all the fun things I could do with Mia, Nikki and Tristan over the weekend.

But this Thursday, this Thursday? It was a big bully looming over me, watching and waiting with a sneer on its face, hoping for a stumble, a crack, anything that showed a bit of weakness.

This particular Thursday took the shape of one Mrs Hernandez. A determined mother who was eager to foster the best results for and on behalf of her daughter. And I was the obstacle in her way. I was the disgruntled employee who couldn’t do the job. I was the piece of metaphorical gum on her otherwise pristine designer shoe.

And the only way to get her to stop seeing me that way was to pull myself up and find a tutor for her daughter.

I posted ads on a few websites and signed up to others, scouring the web for someone who fit the bill. The tutor had to be:

• Female

• An adult

• Knowledgeable about literature

• Willing to take a measly twenty dollars per hour

Armed with those limitations, I searched and searched until my eyeballs bled. When my focus wasn’t on Trevor’s bullshit teach-to-the-test module, it was honed on my quest for a tutor.

Now, as I sat in my ergonomic desk chair, the one Shawn threatened to crush under his weight two nights ago, I pulled up my monitor and pinned my tired eyes on the webpage in front of me.

“That doesn’t look like work, Lilly.” I yanked my exhausted stare away and blinked at Stacey.

“Hi to you too,” I mumbled, failing to add both cheer and volume to my voice.