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"Yeah," I swallow hard. "Burgers at Bruce's."
My heart dips in my chest as he walks to his office. Never, in a million years, did I ever think Brady and I would eat in public alonetogether. Where people could see us.
Unless Angie is coming with us, too.
That would make more sense.
Surely Brady wouldn't takejusthis assistant to a local diner to eat burgers, right?
Angie's definitely going with us.
—
Angie is definitely NOT going with us.
Brady opens the door to Bruce's, and I mentally chide myself for not bringing my laptop. This is obviously a working lunch.
That's what I'm telling myself, anyway.
I hold my breath as Brady helps me take off my jacket. He's standing way too close.
I awkwardly slide into the booth as he shrugs his coat off in one quick motion, and then sits across from me.
The waitress immediately appears and takes our drink order.
"You doing OK over there?" Brady smirks.
"W-why would you ask me that?" I fidget with the hem of my dress.
Brady glances around. "Because you look like we're doing something wrong."
My breath catches in my throat.
Ten years ago, we snuck into Bruce's late one night for hot cocoa and a piece of raspberry pie. We sat next to each otherin the booth in the far back corner. I remember sneaking kisses as people came and went.Sneaking. We did a lot of sneaking around.
But then, a woman walked into Bruce's, and Brady immediately tensed. He left a $20 bill on the table before slipping out of the booth without saying goodbye.
A couple of days later, he told me it had been Maya's aunt.
Sitting here now, that memory still feels as raw and rotten as it did back then.
"Sorry," I finally reply. "This place..."
Brady's face flashes with guilt. "I forgot about that...I'm sorry, Iz. I should have found somewhere else for us to eat lunch."
"No," I clear my throat. "This is fine. I just can't..."
"You just can't what?" Brady asks as he grabs a menu and looks it over.
"I can't believe I put up with your bullshit," I boldly state.
Brady raises an eyebrow as he glances over at me. I cross my arms over my chest, hoping he doesn't fire me on the spot.
"Sorry," I shake my head. "That was kind of harsh."
"No, I think I deserved that."
Silence follows as I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. There's some lingering resentment. Some part of me needs to tell him how horrible it was for me.
