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“Right,” I agree. “Okay then.”
I turn on my heel and flee down the hall to the supply room, then close the door behind me.
I’m sittingcriss-cross applesauce on the floor surrounded by stacks of letters when Fiona peeks around the door. “What the heck are you doing?” she asks, trying to hide a smile when I look up at her.
“Link thought it would be a fun idea to showcaseThe Lord of the Ringsmovies next week.” I gesture to the piles of letters I’ve made. Pieces of my hair have escaped my braid and arenow stuck to my sweaty forehead. I grimace, tucking the damp strands behind my ears. “And it’s hot as hell in here.”
“The movies are getting out soon. Do you want some help carrying these down?” Fi asks, eyeing the mess. I nod. Between the two of us, we manage to carry everything downstairs, entering the lobby with the stacks of letters teetering like a stack of books in a cartoon.
“No, no, it’s okay,” I sneer at Lincoln and Trey, who glance up from their clipboards and watch us with repressed amusement as we stumble toward the back room. “No need to help us. We totally got it.”
Fiona giggles behind me. I nudge open the door with my foot, and we place the letters carefully in the corner.
I turn on my heel and walk back into the lobby. Link looks up when I enter, his eyes narrowing dangerously. I know that look—he’s angry about earlier. I caught him in a private moment, and it embarrassed him.
“Hey Sunshine,” he says with a cruel smile. “After this set of movies, I need you to go upstairs and sweep up the Mylar around the projectors.”
I’d normally just take the punishment, but I’m sweaty and tired and over this day, so instead, my brain misfires. “Are you serious right now?”
I take a deep breath, giving him a chance to take the task back and not be the dickhead I know he is. Here, in this space, Lincoln is my manager, so I know I should take his abuse like a good little employee. I’ve been doing that since Halloween. But fuck that.
“Here it comes…” Fi mutters, and she steps back as if to escape my wrath.
Lincoln’s eyes darken as he takes in my stiff, defiant stance. “It’s probably something you should have taken care of earlier.”
He glances at Trey for support, though for once, Trey seems unamused.
My patience detonates like a bomb, and rage courses through my limbs, making my hands shake. “Why shouldIclean it up?” I shoot back, my voice rising. “I’mnot the one who lets the film slap for twenty minutes.”
I glare at Trey accusingly, but he can’t meet my eyes.
Something about Lincoln rubs me raw without fail, and tonight, I’ve reached my limit. “I have been cleaning up this shithole for months, and I can never meet your impossible standards,boss.I can’t do a damn thing right. And you never ask anyone else to do anything beyond their fucking jobs. Why me? Why do you hatemeso much, goddammit?” My voice cracks, and it makes my anger simmer hotter. I refuse to show him weakness. I swallow hard, trying to blink away unwanted, frustrated tears.
Lincoln steps into my space, crowding me.
I reach out, placing my hand on his bicep. My intent was to push him back, but my traitorous body responds to his proximity, and instead, a spark rips through me at the contact.
Lincoln pulls his arm away, his eyes flashing. “You ruin everything,” he hisses. I recoil at the venom in his voice, my brows drawing together in confusion. I’m forced to look up at him, but I don’t see hate swirling in his stormy eyes.
There’s just pain.
Agony.
What did I do to cause this?
The rage burning hot under my skin, starts to dissipate. This isn’t an argument between a manager and his employee. This is something else. Something deeper.
I have no idea what to say, but I know if I stare into the cloudy abyss of his eyes much longer, I’ll lose myself completely.
Or I’ll hit him.
Auditorium three’s doors burst open, and patrons start streaming out, laughing and chatting happily. I flinch and look away from Linkas people walk around us, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.
I look over at Fiona, who’s been watching our standoff in stunned silence with Trey,my eyes pleading, and she gives me an encouraging nod—she’ll cover for me.
I walk to the back room to get my coat and backpack and reenter the lobby refusing to look at either of them.
“I wouldn’t just leave if I were you,” Link says coldly.
