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I arched my right brow in her direction. “That’s not your usual attitude.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep.”
Of course, I wouldn’t expect her to stop thinking about what I’d done. I certainly couldn’t. “I understand.”
“I’m sure you don’t, Andres. You look like you get plenty of sleep every night.”
“To quote you from yesterday,you have no idea.”
She snatched the list from the desk and procured her phone from her purse. Already, the screen was filling up with messages. “I can’t run in and out of town while I’m trying to handle the luncheon stuff.”
“Cut your load in half. The clients will understand.”
I turned back to my art desk and leaned toward it with a pencil. Scribbling sounds floated around me. I distinctly heard the resonantthumpof Sadie’s heart after she sucked air into her lungs.
Too much silence was a bother. What was holding her up?
I glanced back to find her staring at the laptop, a faraway look sending her miles away from me.
“Sadie, what’s going on?”
She startled as if she’d just noticed my presence, and then anger flashed in her eyes. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
She disappeared into the hallway. Words like that never flew from her mouth. Sadie held a sunny disposition that resembled the luscious flowers outside. Never had her tone shifted into one of pure aggravation like it just had. Was she tired of me already?
Or worse, had she gone back on our deal?
Fear came crashing through the highly organized plan in my mind. While my hand expertly manipulated the pencil, my eyes raced across the page, frantic to find some sort of landing that would hold me up if Sadie ditched me. Years of meticulous planning had kept me from returning to that dreadful night back in Ambersky.
The tip of the pencil snapped. Irritation plummeted my mood along with any expectations for the day improving with Sadie’s presence. I thought a night of sleep would help. Apparently, it had the opposite effect.
I plugged my pencil into the sharpener and waited for it to finish. Sadie returned with a sniffle, a sound that made me long to sweep her into my arms and comfort her. Women were bound to have emotions about plenty of things. They had mood swings and cycles to mind. They had feelings. I didn’t have to jump every time she seemingly got hurt.
But why can’t I do that?
I set the pencil in a cup and spun around, trying to figure out what to say, what to ask, how to engage.
For the first time in a long time, I was stumped. Sadie wasn’t crying, and there were no trace of tears on her face, but her eyes appeared host a line of red that rounded them out. A puffiness had taken to her cheeks that invited my touch. Desires be damned, I had work to accomplish. She did too.
“Your mother must be at it again,” I speculated. “Would you like me to call her?”
Sadie snorted. “Don’t encourage her, Andres.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I have a way of charming people.” I smiled for effect. “Come on, sweet Sadie. Let me solve this problem for us both.”
“How in the world is ityourproblem?”
Just like the other day, I closed the gap between us. I traced her headband while studying the way her fingers fled across the keyboard. Minimal mistakes appeared on the screen. She was getting good at that. There was always room for improvement, of course.
“It’swhom,” I corrected while pointing at the screen. “Try to make it sound like I’m speaking.”
“I’m doing my best, Andres.”
I tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t fight the gesture—but she didn’t lean toward me as I expected. “Give me your phone. I’ll handle your mother.”
She grabbed her phone before I could get to it. “It’s not my mother bothering me today.”
“Who’s bothering you?” I turned the chair so she would face me. She defiantly looked away. “What’s going on, Sadie?”
