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Fuck. Why does she have to be so smart all the time?
“Yes,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach churns, and my throat feels like I have an invisible hand wrapped around it.
“Great! Be there tonight at 8 p.m.sharp.” Her eyes glitter as if she is amused by the idea of mocking my request for punctuality.
I frown. “Aren’t you supposed to be working at that time?”
“What if I told you this is a part of an idea I’m working on?”
I rip the paper from the thumbtack and reread the title. “Doubt it. I can’t imagine approving of anything that involves cupcakes and charades. I don’t know who you’re trying to mentor here but we’re not interested in hiring toddlers.”
Her smile drops. “Forget you ever read about this and lose my number.” She snatches the paper from my hand and returns back to her cubicle without sparing me another glance.
I’ve never seen Zahra this pissed before. What about this meeting specifically set her off?
Who cares? Now you have a reason to avoid going.
But what is she hiding?
I leave the warehouse and stop at the closest trash bin where I throw away all the slips of paper except one.
* * *
Zahra’s eyes connect with mine as I step through the doorway of the small meeting room. The rented space Zahra chose is located at the back of the park within the employee apartment complex. I’ve never visited this area for anything but a quick glance for my checklist.
Her smile falters as I unbutton my suit and take a seat like I belong here. My neck heats from the way she tracks my movements, with her eyes following my hand as I pluck a cupcake from the tray.
Her small hands ball up by her sides. I don’t even love sweets but I pretend it’s the best cupcake.
Come on. Show me what you’re really hiding beneath those fake smiles and innocent pins.Speaking of, today’s offensive dose of serotonin is a ridiculous ghost wearing a sombrero with the sayingAmi-Ghost. Where does she find these things, and why does she wear them?
Zahra’s eye twitches. “What are you doing here?”
I look around the nearly empty room as if the answer is obvious. The lack of a turnout fills me with a sense of accomplishment. “I’m here for a meeting. Carry on.”
She leans forward on the table, attempting to intimidate but failing. “You don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my boss after working hours.”
“If you’re on company property, then you’re still considered my employee.”
“Everything here is company property.”
“Perceptive as ever.”
Zahra’s eyes narrow while her cheeks turn an interesting shade of red I haven’t seen before. I’m somewhat interested in learning more about this version of Zahra. It’s quite the contrast from her pin-loving, happy-going self that she shares with the world.
A younger brunette woman walks into the room carrying a bottle of soda, followed by a blond male. They both have soft facial features, which is a dead giveaway for their Down syndrome diagnoses.
Shit.It doesn’t take much effort to draw conclusions about exactly what kind of mentorship program this is.
For the first time in God knows how long, I feel intense regret. No wonder Zahra was so pissed at my comment. It was wholly deserved based on the kind of program she is trying to create here.
Fuck. You’re such an asshole sometimes.
Zahra smirks. “Now’s your chance to leave before it’s too late.”
“I think I’d like to see this through.” I meant what I said about challenges. The more Zahra wants to push me away, the harder I’ll push back.
The shorter brunette elbows Zahra in the ribs. “Be nice. He’s cute.” Her almond-shaped brown eyes brighten and bring out the softness in her face.
