Page 7 of Emil

CHAPTER THREE

ANDERS

“Did I tell you how glad I am that you’re back?” Lacey asked as she perched a hip on my desk. Her bright smile was there as always, with her bouncy black curls coiled around her head like a halo.

“I believe you mentioned something about it earlier,” I answered her with my own smile.

Lacey had been checking in on me all day and had insisted on eating lunch with me in the breakroom. I didn’t know if Mr. Magnuson had tasked her with making sure I ate or if she was just being generous. Either way, I appreciated the company. After spending a week at home, I was bored out of my mind. John had gone to work each day, but not before making it clear that he thought it was ridiculous that I was still not going in. I’d tried to explain what Mr. Magnuson had said, but he told me it was pathetic that I let another man tell me what to do. The irony, given how often he told me what to do, was utterly lost on him.

I made myself useful by cleaning the apartment from top to bottom and ensuring there was food ready when he came home from work. Some days, it was enough. Some days, he called me a freeloader. By the weekend, I was well and truly on his nerves. When Rory mentioned Gabe was going out of town for the weekend and he would be lonely rattling around their Victorian by himself, I jumped at the invitation to sleep over. But now I was back home. It was Monday morning, and I was trying to get back into the swing of things.

“Anders, get in here.” John’s voice rang across the floor. Lacey’s eyes darted to his office and then back to me.

“You don’t have to go in there. You can tell him to go to hell.” Lacey’s brown eyes flashed in anger on my behalf.

“He’s still my boss,” I answered quietly. A humph was her only response.

The energy between John and me had been off all day, and my stomach sank as I made my way into his office. I paused at the doorway before entering. He didn’t like it if I just barged in, so I waited for him to wave me inside. He pointed to a chair but kept talking. It sounded like he was making some kind of dinner reservation, but I wasn’t going to interrupt to ask. When the conversation finally ended, he turned his full attention to me.

I tried to keep myself upright, but I shrank back anyway. He always looked at me with such intensity that I wasn’t sure where he ended and I began. It almost overpowered me.

“We have a dinner meeting with Magnuson tonight. I’m gonna need you to be there to take notes. Quill. Seven-thirty.”

Dread seeped into my bones.

“That’s right. You fucked up again and didn’t get around to making the reservation. Don’t worry. I did your job for you.”

“I’m so sorry. You told me to do it, and then I collapsed and went to the hospital, and then I was out for the rest of the week, and it totally and completely slipped my mind.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“I think I’ve given you plenty of chances to get shit right. An entire week off and you couldn’t bother to do anything.”

“I cleaned the house,” I answered weakly.

“Yeah, like that’s hard, but it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about cleaning it anymore—or, in your case, not cleaning it decently.”

“What do you mean?”

“I honestly don’t know what I saw in you,” John mused, as if pondering the weather. The dismissal cut to the quick. “I thought you’d be a much better boyfriend than you turned out to be. But now you’re free to ruin someone else’s life, and I have a new one who’s much better than you ever thought about being. We’re done.”

I understood the words he said, but they didn’t penetrate. My feet felt rooted to the floor as I desperately tried to process the sentences. I’d known he was upset with me this past week when he checked the windowsills and the air return for stray specks of dust, but I thought I had done a decent job. Whenever I wanted to nap, I forced myself to clean the baseboards instead, and I made sure to cook his favorite dinners every night, since he was out working all week and I was sitting at home doing nothing.

“I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

“I’m used to it by now. I’d fire your ass, but I’m pretty sure Magnuson would come after mine for it. You’re probably already letting him sniff around you.”

“He hasn’t…” My first instinct was to defend Mr. Magnuson. He’d never done anything inappropriate, but I knew it already didn’t matter to John.

“We are having that dinner meeting tonight, and you need to come if you can manage to do that much of your job.”

“Of course I’ll come. But, uh, why do you need an accounts clerk to sit on a meeting with him?”

“Someone needs to take notes for the meeting, and no one else is available, so I’m stuck with you. I expect your stuff to be out of the apartment within twenty-four hours. Get out of my office and don’t be late tonight.”

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

The shell shock of walking out of John’s office and back to my desk had made me feel as if I were ricocheting around inside my own brain. Whatever I’d thought was going to happen, it hadn’t been that. But I should’ve seen it coming. The late nights, the phone calls, the texting—he’d laughed but never wanted to share the joke. In my heart, I’d known he was seeing someone else, but I hadn’t wanted to accept it. As usual, it’d been easier to bury my head in the sand than confront him about it.

I’d done my best to make him happy, but I’d fallen short. Rory would tell me that was bullshit, that John would’ve done this to me no matter what, and that I didn’t owe him an apology for not living up to his expectations. And if the shoe had been on the other foot, I would absolutely tell Rory that. But it hit different when it was me because I’d known that if I didn’t try my best to make John happy, I would be disappointed in myself—and that made all the difference in the world.