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“Mik.”
“No. Don’t ‘Mik’ me right now. Every single time that man has shown up in our lives you’ve ended up in situations I’ve had to try to fix. Every damn time, Jamie. And you let him back in without question.” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “You can’t do this.”
“Mikaela.” Jamie raises his voice only slightly but I flinch. He freezes, immediate shame washing over him, diminishing him and making him look like a chastised school child, before his eyes soften and frown lines crease his forehead. “I’m sorry.” He pushes to stand and I shake my head. He doesn’t continue to move. “Listen, I know you don’t like Ben but he’s been my best friend for over a decade, Mik, and he’s good at what he does.”
“What he does is reign chaos over our lives, Jamie.” I swallow the pain rising in my throat. “Or do I need to remind you of what happened five years ago?”
Beneath the shock and anger of his gaze something dark flashes and I steady myself for what is to come.
“No one needs to remind me of what happened five years ago.” He glares at me, all sympathy slipping from the sea blue eyes and anger spinning between us. He’s pissed I’d go there even after everything he’s done for me in the last year. I’m pissed he’d hire Ben after everything I’ve been through. We’re both pissed and we’re both stubborn. But, like a knife being twisted, Jamie doesn’t stop with the first injury. “And it’s not like you’ve been around the last couple of years, Mik, or as if your life isn’t full of mistakes either. Now, if you don’t mind, I didn’t give you your job for you to criticise mine. The phones won’t answer themselves.”
I clench my jaw as I feel the prickle of tears threatening to show. It angers me to no end that my tears usually come when I’m angry as opposed to just when I’m upset, and that only makes the whole crying thing worse.
I clear my throat as I brush away the moisture from the corner of my eye and watch as Jamie diverts his gaze.
Bastard.
“Right,” I say, the t hanging in the air between us as he flicks through a stack of new manuscripts on his desk, and I turn away from him. “I guess I’ll get back to my desk then, Boss.”
Holding my head high as I hear him sigh behind me, I begin the agonising walk back to my desk, feeling the watchful eyes of those around me burning into my skin and boring into my skull. I try not to think about what he implied. I try not to feel that constriction around my throat. I try. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want my mind to return to that place; not now, not ever.
Rollingmyneck,Iclose my eyes and sigh. I’m not entirely sure when, but work got busy. Most of the morning passed answering the phone and desperately searching for the right connecting line to patch each author, agent and enquiry through to the appropriate person, and now, as I finally hit that midday lull, I find myself staring down a mountain of notes to pass on to members of staff I do not know and trying to ignore a growing bundle of nerves knotting in my stomach over and over.
I hear his approach before I see him and push my notepad aside. Turning to face him I paint a sickeningly sweet smile across my face and sit a little taller, my best perky receptionist impression perfectly in place by the time he stops awkwardly in front of my desk.
“I’ve got to head out for a lunch meeting. Ben too.” Jamie holds his head low and tucks his hands into his pockets, shuffling on the spot. “We’ll be gone for two hours.”
“I’ll make sure to take any messages that come through. Will that be all, Mr. Wilcox?”
The snort from behind Jamie only makes the burning hatred simmering in my chest increase.
“Damn, J.” Ben approaches with the cool air of a man who is too confident, smacking his hands onto Jamie’s shoulders as he laughs loudly. “Whatever the hell you said to her this morning has done a better job of getting under her skin than I ever have.”
“And yet the problem is still you.” I mutter.
“Sorry, what was that, Little Mik?” He smirks at me, determined to keep up this infuriating antagonism, and Jamie shrugs out of his grip.
“Right, let’s not do this you two,” he groans. “You don’t like each other. Fine. But as of this morning you’re both members in my company so the least you could do is keep it civil, for my sake. Alright?”
I sigh when I look at my brother. His eyes are a warm Grecian sea - crystal clear and calm, just like Mom’s- and as he looks over to me they are scrawled with one hundred begged apologies. My fake-ass smile drops for a moment and I take a deep breath.
“Fine,” I huff, “but only because I need this job.”
“I know you do, Mik.” Jamie smiles softly at me and that last little sliver of anger I have been desperately trying to keep hold of disappears. “I know.”
“Okay. So.” I pull my eyes back to the computer screen as the sting of the past builds in the corners of my mind, and begin typing in the new meetings and appointments I’ve been jotting down all morning. “I guess I’ll see you both in a couple of hours.”
“Don’t forget to take your break, Mikaela.” Ben’s voice is deep and gritty and my fingers still at his command.
“Civil does not mean you get to tell me what to do, Haston,” I retort before I begin typing again.
“No, but I do.” Jamie shrugs with a smile, leaning over the desk and grabbing my dark green tote bag from beside me. “There’s a nice little café about two blocks from here. It’s quiet and packed with authors all the time. It’s a realyouplace. Go.”
“I’m not particularly hungry, all things considered.”
“Mik.” Jamie shakes my bag at me, his eyes fixed on mine as he raises his brows in challenge. “Go.”
Jamie’sright,ofcourse.The café is exactly the sort of place I would have lost my days to years ago. It’s busy and there’s volume to it, with groups of men and women and teenagers all nestled into small tables and corners of the room, with their mugs steaming and their fingers dancing over keyboards as they fashion worlds and creatures and lives that are not their own out of letters strung together with the beauty of pearls.
