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There’s no time to argue about that right now, not that I would. This job is all I have at the moment, and even though I don’t understand the circumstances, I don’t want to ruin things. That, and I’d rather not give my stepbrothers another reason to make me miserable.
“I’ll be right there!” I grab for the first clean things my hands fall upon in my dresser, then rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before running a brush through my hair. The whole process can’t take more than five minutes, but the way Colt and Nix act when I run downstairs, you would think I kept them waiting for two hours.
“Sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to go this morning.”
Nix rolls his eyes and pushes away from the door, where he was leaning as he waited. “You can assume we’re going to go most days.”
“Could you maybe give me the heads-up the night before so I know what time to be ready? I don’t want to hold you guys up,” I add before they can blow up at me.
“Whatever. Let’s go. You already have me behind schedule.”
I know better than to ask exactly what schedule he’s talking about. I don’t think I’ve ever met two such self-important people.
It’s mercifully quiet in the truck, almost eerie. The guys have their little muttered conversation, but it’s not about anything important. I think they’re talking about sports, something I have very little interest in. They can talk about anything they want so long as it’s not me.
During the whole way, I have to fight to keep from staring at the back of Nix’s head. He’ll know I’m staring, and it will only make him mad. Nothing about his attitude toward me reveals anything about what happened yesterday. Maybe in his mind, it never happened at all. I can’t believe anybody could just forget something like that, no matter what he says.
It’s easy for him to say. He’s not the one who saw his life flash before his eyes. I have to take a few deep breaths to slow the sudden panic threatening to grip me. Every time I so much as brush up against the memory, my body reacts like I’m back in the moment.
I couldn’t be more disappointed to see Piper standing at the front desk when we arrive at the gym. She’s talking to a muscular middle-aged man who lifts his chin to greet Colt and Nix before turning to find me standing behind them.
“Oh. You must be Leni.” He extends a hand and gives me a firm shake. My boss, I suppose? His name tag tells me his name is Chad. “I was explaining to Piper how I’ll need some help in the storage room today. We just got a lot of supplies shipped in, and they need to be unboxed and accounted for. Think you could help her out with that?”
Exactly what I want. Time spent one-on-one with my ex-best friend. The two of us in a storage room with nothing to do but talk. At least I know there’s a time limit. It seems like the guys work out for an hour and a half, maybe two hours. I can handle a couple of hours with her, I guess.
“Come on. I’ll show you where it is.” She waves me along behind her, and I follow silently. I don’t dare look, but I wonder if either of my stepbrothers notices me walking with her. I’m sure they’d think it was funny. For all I know, this is the entire reason they got me a job here. Knowing I’d have no choice but to face the person who betrayed me worst of all.
It doesn’t take long to figure out what Chad was talking about. Stacks of boxes are lined up along one of the walls in the cramped room. Shelves lining the other three walls are covered in all kinds of items—towels, bathroom supplies, and cleaning products. And it looks like whoever’s been charged with keeping things organized and decluttered has been sleeping on the job since there’s empty packaging lying around, and the shelves are in disarray.
Rather than stand around and discuss what to do first, I grab a trash bag from a roll sitting on a shelf and start gathering up shrink wrap, packing tape, and things people have left lying around. Piper hesitates but soon follows my lead and straightens up the supplies left on the shelves. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get out of this room.
“So the wedding was really nice. Your mom looked so happy.”
Ugh. She’s still trying. I don’t know if it’s obnoxious or pathetic. Maybe both. Rather than acknowledge her, I open one of the boxes waiting to be unpacked and start pulling out shrink-wrapped pairs of spray bottles full of cleaning solution. Rather than leave them on the shelves this way, so somebody will cut away the shrink wrap and leave it lying around, I separate them and line them up on the shelf. I might not have a typical job here, but I’ll still do it right.
