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Anymore.
But I leave that bit out.
“Oh,” Annie says again, but this time, the tiny word manages to pack a whole different meaning.
There’s a slightly awkward (what’s new) silence before Annie nods. “Well. Should we get going? Finish work before midnight?”
“Absolutely.”
The evening air has cooled significantly in the time we’ve been in the restaurant. In fact, time’s flown by. I’m officially late to take over watching Legs for the night, but if I’m honest, the thought of Luke itching with curiosity pleases me. Serves him right.
I’m glad I called Legs before we went in. I had a feeling this evening would take longer than expected and I’d miss her bedtime.
It’s not like this super-long-dinner business is a common occurrence for me. Most of my meals over the past few years have been about efficiency—optimal levels of nutrients and calories in the quickest, simplest way possible. I usually eat alone standing at a counter, or with my immediate family at my sister’s dining table.
This meal was… different.
Beside me, Annie shivers in the breeze. I reflexively shrug off my jacket and hold it out to her.
“Oh no, I’m fine.” Her jaw tenses as she tries to keep her teeth from clattering.
“I insist,” I press.
I’m not being pushy, I don’t think. I mean, she’s shivering!
Annie smiles and moves to let me drape the jacket around her. She shivers when my fingers graze her shoulders, and I try to ignore the way my heartbeat picks up.
My jacket is comically huge on her, hanging off her petite frame. I like the way it looks on her. I just hope that Cassandra’s not lurking behind a trashcan, ready to spring out and yell “gotcha!” before dragging me on a date.
Dramatic? Yes. But I don’t like the woman one bit.
Annie’s quiet as she walks. I usually like quiet, thrive on it. Most people say altogether too many words in a day.
But Annie is not most people. And I realize I like all the crazy, strange things she has to say.
To the point that, right now, I’m overly aware of the quiet. Disrupted by it. It’s not like her.
“What’s on your mind?” I blurt.
Annie looks up in surprise. Smiles. “Honest answer?”
“Yes.”
“I was thinking about how, the last time we ran into someone, I told them you were my boyfriend.” She snorts at the memory. “Did I ever apologize for that? Like you apologized for what happened with Cassandra?”
I shake my head, unable to keep a small smile from forming on my lips. “No apology necessary. The whole thing was kinda funny, actually.”
“You didn’t think I was a crazed psychopath?”
“Oh, I definitely thought that.” I look at her, dead serious, and her mouth pops into a little O before she bursts into that contagious laughter again.
“I have to say that this has been one of my less conventional starts to a job,” she says, shaking her head. “But in a weird way, it’s worked out.”
“It’s certainly been interesting.” I like that we’re having this conversation. Glad to hear verbal affirmation that everything is okay between us.
“I guess I should explain myself, too.” Annie lowers her lashes. “Like you did.”
“That’s okay,” I say, even as I find myself leaning towards her. I normally never take this much interest in the lives of my employees.
