Page 21 of The Sidekick

“Go into the office, Tera,” he says very quietly.

“Yes, sir,” I squeak and rush to obey without thought. Anything to get me away from that look on his face. If I walk fast enough, I might make enough of a breeze to cool me down.

Max doesn’t follow me this time, and I don’t look back to see if Satan, aka my boss, is behind me either.

I get into his office, and I flounder. I’ve never been called in here for a lecture before. I don’t know what kind of protocol I need to use to survive. I’m pretty sure he will make me walk over hot coals at some point.

I leave the door open so he can see that I did come in here and stand like a statue in front of his desk with tense shoulders. A couple of chairs are beside me, but I can’t seem to sit down. My gut says it would be a wrong move.

I can hear the faint murmur of Trevor’s voice speaking in that quiet, deadly tone. Even though I don’t understand what he’s saying, his voice has gotten sharper, and the words bitten off. Blaze says something in response, and then there’s silence.

After a second, I hear heavy, ominous footsteps approaching me. My shoulders tense even more as they fall silent and then resume in a more leisurely fashion. The slowed-down pace somehow helps my shoulders relax. It doesn’t lessen my nerves, but I think I can handle it better if he’s not stomping in here to yell.

I feel him enter the room and close the door softly. Then he goes behind the desk and sits down to study me from his relaxed posture. I note it all from the corners of my eyes because I can’t stop staring at the blank wall to the left of his head. It’s like I’m frozen in terror. What is wrong with me today?

“Tera?”

My body jolts, and I stand straighter. I could quit right now to get away from this.

Somehow, out of everything I’ve had run through my brain today, that thought seems the dumbest by far. Running a close second is my willingness to get out of bed this morning.

“Would you like to have this conversation standing up?” He sounds mildly curious about my answer.

Do I? Not really. My mother would make me stand up straight and stare at a wall completely still as a time-out when I was bad as a kid. I have no idea why I’m doing it now.

“May I sit down?” I ask and wince. Asking to sit was a big no-no at home during punishments. It's nice to see that young Tera and adult Tera have still not learned that lesson.

He takes a sharp breath and says softly, “You may.”

It’s like he released a string holding me up. I’m almost boneless when I flop into the chair nearest me. Then I straighten up and keep my eyes focused on the desk that’s littered with papers in front of me. I’m too tense to try and lean back, so I clasp my hands in my lap and hold on tightly.

My actions confuse me. I’m a flipping adult. Why am I acting like I just got busted trying to sneak out of the house?

“I wasn’t calling you in here to berate you. I just want to have a discussion if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Ok.” I nod in agreement, suddenly able to meet his eyes again with a hesitant smile. My face feels weird, and I realize I haven’t been smiling much. The thought is a little concerning to me. I always smile, always have, no matter what I’m really feeling inside. When did that mask slip off, and why didn’t I notice?

He smiles back, and my lips feel slightly less awkward as I relax in the chair.

“Blaze alluded to the fact that they are aware of your arrest. Did you tell them about it?” His smile stays in place, and his eyes sparkle with amusement.

He’s probably thinking back to my job interview, where I blurted out the whole story of my arrest, hoping my honesty would benefit me in the long run.

“No,” my eyes automatically lower, and my smile falls.

They discovered it when Andi’s dad had me investigated by some high mucky-muck that could pry into my records. I tried to explain why I was arrested and the circumstances, but they never wanted to hear it, so I gave up. The only people I’ve ever confessed to are Trevor and Andi. And the three other managers I interviewed with when I was looking for a job. A boss has a right to an informed opinion before hiring me. Someone with authority deserves that much respect.

Trevor is the only one who gave me a callback, cementing him as a good guy in my books for at least giving me a chance. It’s why I get so nervous when he’s unhappy with something I’ve done. If my sweet boss is upset with me, I know I’ve really screwed up. He’s patient to a fault.

Then again, I haven’t been forthcoming with my activities over the last year. He’d be so disappointed in me. That’s probably when I stopped talking to people at work. The less I opened my mouth, the less chance I had of confessing.

He frowns at my answer and leans forward to prop his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together loosely. “How did they find out? You were too young to have that on your record.”

“Well, you know Andi had a lot going on a while ago?” Six months almost to the day, as a matter of fact. “Her dad hired the bodyguards out there, and they investigated me.”

“They investigated you? They thought you were involved in that mess somehow?” The question is said with such disbelief that my little smile returns.

“Yeah. Bodyguards are suspicious. Who knew?” I try to make a joke of it.

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