Page 144 of Identity


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“We’ll make that two. Have a seat.”

“There’s something so artistic and soothing about your backyard. I talked myself out of an apartment and bought a small house. Small enough, I told myself, so I could maintain it myself, with a yard small enough I could do the same.

“I failed.”

“I’m going to say that’s hard to believe.”

“Something always got neglected or put off. I’ll get to that tomorrow, or next week, and I know when you do that it’s just going to pile up. So I told myself I’d be more efficient if I hired someone to maintain it.”

“You’re giving people jobs that way, and paychecks,” Morgan pointed out.

“There’s that. And still, your backyard is so much more appealing and creative than mine. Is that wind chime from Crafty Arts?”

“It is.”

“I’m going to stop by there on my way to work and get one. Do you mind if we sit out on the patio?”

“One of my favorite spots.”

Chapter Twenty

When they sat at the patio table, Nell looked around one more time.

“I’d want to live out here. Do you drink your coffee-flavored milk and sugar out here every morning?”

“Usually.”

“Miles has a Zen place like this, and actually makes time to work in the garden every week unless he’s really slammed. I guess you know.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“Okay, well.” Nell tucked her hair, loose today, behind her ear. “I don’t want this to be awkward.”

“Too late.”

Nell made a small sound of agreement. “I guess there’s no avoiding the awkward. I wanted to talk to you here, your turf, your home, and not my office, so you’d be as comfortable as possible.”

“I appreciate that. I do. Can I cut to my personal end of the line and ask if you’re firing me?”

“What? Jesus, no! No. Toss that out right now.” As she spoke, Nell shot a hand in the air as if winging something away.

“Okay then.” Morgan breathed out. “I’ll throw out the worry and we can just stick with the awkward.”

“I wish it wasn’t awkward, because this is about your comfort, Morgan. I know Miles, obviously. I love Miles, but I stand—or sit right now—as your direct supervisor, and your support. I understand you and Miles now have a personal relationship, and I want you totell me, to feel absolutely secure and safe in telling me, if you felt in any way pressured to enter that relationship. Even if Miles didn’t—”

“You can stop there because that’s a big, solid no. He didn’t pressure me, I didn’t feel pressured. He didn’t make any moves. I did, and I thought that’s why you might fire me.”

“Oh. A minute?” She lifted her coffee, drank. “He didn’t share that part, and of course he wouldn’t. He’s Miles. It would’ve been helpful. We’d still have had this conversation, but it would’ve been helpful.”

“I can be helpful. He was more than kind to me after I had the incident Friday night—a week ago on Friday night. You’d know about that.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry it happened.”

“So am I. I also felt, even prior to that, he might be interested in me. He never said or did anything, but— Oh hell, Nell, you know, right? When a man’s interested. You might misinterpret, but you get a sense.”

“All right, yes.”

“I wasn’t going to act on the fact I was interested back because I love my job, and I need it, but I baked him cookies.”

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