Page 31 of Unexpected You

And then she was looking at me in a way that I didn’t understand, but that wasn’t unpleasant. Her gaze was intense, and I should have told her to stop staring, but I didn’t. No. I let her look. Why had I let her look?

Cadence was a lesbian, this I knew. She’d had it listed in her social media bio and she’d had pictures at Pride with her friends with a flag draped around her shoulders.

But she probably wasn’t even looking at me like that. Firstly, I was her boss, and second, I was much older. Cadence would go for someone younger and prettier and much more interesting and exciting.

It didn’t matter. She was just surprised to see me not in my work clothes. That was probably it. I was reading too much into some staring because I couldn’t really remember the last time I’d been stared at, other than by a guy who was trying to bother me at Dom’s bar while I was working.

After she left, I admonished myself for believing, even for a few moments, that she was checking me out. Yeah, right.

I shook my head at myself and turned my yoga class back on and finished before changing and then going to make myself some dinner. I thought about ordering delivery, but I wanted to feel like I’d accomplished something today, so I made a really delicious steak with Gruyère mashed potatoes and a salad with vegetables from my garden and a lemon vinaigrette I put together.

The meal fortified me, and my brain felt less like it was functioning below fifty percent by the time I was cleaning up the kitchen and getting started on the rest of my evening.

I hadn’t ended up reading the book that Cadence recommended to me yet. No idea why not, but I’d pulled up another alien book instead. I was still blazing through them at an alarming rate. They were pretty addicting.

Something about the way she’d talked about the book had told me that it mattered to her. A lot. She cared what I thought about this book and if I didn’t like it, then what? I guess I could lie.

Maybe it would be good? I’d just have to take a risk and find out. The book was short, so I could finish it tonight if I wanted.

I made up a snack plate and a pot of tea and ventured to my library to find out.

Less than four hours later, I was crying and staring at the wall, unable to figure out what to do with myself. This book wasn’t just good. It was a masterpiece. Every single award was deserved. A strange, wonderful book that made me question my own writing ability, because I’d never be able to do something like that.

I wiped my tears and let out a long breath. Cadence should have warned me that I might question my entire life after reading this book, but I guess she kind of did.

“Dammit,” I said, swiping at more tears.

This was ridiculous. I got up and went to do my nightly skincare to get myself back together. I looked awful in the mirror, so I tried to ignore my reflection as I washed my face and did the regimen my aesthetician had created for me.

Once I was done, I headed to bed, but my thoughts wouldn’t quiet. Instead, I pulled up my ereader and read over my favorite parts of the book again until I was finally too exhausted to keep my eyes open.

* * *

This was Cadence’s fourth week with me, and it was almost time to decide whether or not she could continue as my assistant. Her work was good, for the most part. She did things in her own way, which I had to adjust to. In our little morning meetings, she would always ask how I wanted something done, and then the next day I’d find out that she’d done the task, but in a completely different way. At first, I was frustrated, because she hadn’t followed my directions, but if the task was completed, did it really matter? She was a mess, though. I caught her spilling crumbs on her keyboard and coffee on her shirt and pants so often that it was like she was trying to spill.

Her hair was done beautifully some days and some days just thrown into a haphazard ponytail. Often, I’d catch her digging through her bag and muttering to herself. She lost things constantly. One night she’d even run back in because she’d lost her keys. I found them in the fridge next to her container of creamer. She couldn’t explain how or why that had happened.

There were days she was laser focused and days when she spun in her chair and asked me a million questions and couldn’t seem to stay on track. It all evened out, though, and everything got done.

I’d spoken to Sylvia and Camille about Cadence many times and they told me all of my issues with her were too nitpicky. I supposed they were right.

Cadence brought me another breakfast sandwich again, and we sat together in the breakfast nook.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked after a little bit of tense silence.

“Fine,” I said. “I’m fine.”

She nodded down at her plate.

“Did, um, did you read the book? It’s fine if you didn’t. I was just wondering.” She did care. She absolutely cared.

“I did read it.” Cadence couldn’t know how much I loved it. How much I wanted to take that book and somehow swallow it and let the words dissolve into my bones.

“You hated it,” she said with a little sigh and a slump against the chair. “It’s fine if you did. It’s one of those books that isn’t for everyone.”

“I loved it.”

Her head flew up and she stared at me. Every day when I saw her, I wanted to ask her if her freckles had multiplied overnight. I seemed to find new ones on her face every day.

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