“I don’t know, Ella,” Grace says, her smile growing. “The way you’ve described the town to me, it kinda doesfeel like a fairy tale. Maybe in Whispering Pines, dreams really can come true? You two are still drawn to each other, and it’s coming out in sexy, sexy aggression. I’ll bet you two find any excuse to fight, just so you can be near.”
I can’t help it, I burst into a fit of laughter. “Grace, you’re the most ridiculous person, you know that, right?”
Now she’s full-on grinning. “I’m a romantic, so sue me for hoping that your babies could get their father in their lives!”
This sobers me, and my smile fades a bit. “I want that, too,” I say quietly.
“So go get it!” Grace exclaims. “I’ll bet if you rip your shirt off, he’ll change his tune with you real quick.”
“Grace!” I laugh again. “Stop! Seriously, I do want that. But not with him. It’s probably for the best that we stay away from each other.”
She gasps in dramatized outrage. “Do notlet me down again, Ella! This is your second chance!”
“No,” I say firmly. “You aren’t here, you haven’t seen the way he is. He’s infuriating, stubborn and domineering. Not to mention he’s always, alwaysglaring when he looks at me. He interrupts me when I speak, finds something rude to say at every chance, and constantly tries to dominate me.”
“Well, that last part doesn’t sound so bad,” she mutters with a lewd wiggle of her eyebrows.
“Grace,” I say with exasperation, “Even if he wouldhave me—which by the way, he absolutely wouldn’t. No!” I interrupt quickly, when she opens her mouth to argue. “He wouldn’t. You’re not here, you can’t see the way he is. So even if he would have me, I wouldn’t want that sort of toxicity as the example of what love should be for my kids.”
Grace throws up a hand in her own flourish of exasperation. “Baby girl, don’t you see? He’s flirtingwith you! It’s just a bunch of pent-up tension!”
Now I’m glaring at my phone. “He is not flirting.”
“Once you two get past this little phase, you’ll get the sexy orc you met all those years ago back, you’ll see. You just need to give him a chance.”
“Like he gave me a chance when I walked into his office?” I huff sarcastically.
“Yes!”
“But he didn’t—”
“He didgive you a chance, Ella. You’re still working there, aren’t you? And you even said he isn’t micromanaging you anymore, he’s left you to handle business without stepping in at all.” I press my lips together and don’t respond, even though my stubbornness is pushing me to continue arguing. “He trusts you. Now you’ve just got to learn to trust him, too.”
For some reason, these words continue echoing in my mind, even as our conversation comes to an end and I hang up.
He trusts you.
As the sun sets outside and I ready myself for an early night, I try to think of an argument to refute this, since it doesn’t fit with the narrative I’ve been giving myself this last week.
But despite Rhokar’s complete lack of manners or even basic, social or professional politeness, he hasn’t done anything to prove otherwise since my first day on the job.
He’s left me to do my work. He’ll insult my attitude, or make a comment about how I was fifteen seconds late, or wonder if I really need to put so much effort into my hair every day and whether I should be putting that energy into more important things…
But he doesn’t question my decisions, or try to insert himself into anything he isn’t needed in, like he did on that very first day. No unsolicited advice on what I should or shouldn’t be doing, no trying to snoop through my work outside of when I’m directly updating him on progress, and no mansplaining about the very profession I’m an expert in, which I’ve had to deal with on multiple projects no matter how much I prove myself.
Maybe Grace is right, and I just didn’t notice, over the pure annoyance our every interaction leaves me with.
But even if that’s true, that doesn’t mean she’s right about everything.
AndI don’t see what it’s got to do with my personal life. He isn’tflirting, for crying out loud. He barely tolerates me. He’s paying me to do my job, which he now realizes I’m good at. So what? It doesn’t mean he wants me, or that I want him.
I dismiss these thoughts firmly and force myself to put them from my mind. It doesn’t matter, anyway.
Chapter 8
Ella
“Miss Davis, why are you interrupting me just to say you’re heading to the portables? You’re a big girl, you don’t need permission.”