I don’t know why, but that sounds like a dig.
When neither of us speaks further, I hop out of the truck and shut the door behind me, wishing Eli hadn’t put up such a tall, firm wall between us. All I want is to tease apart the confusing edges of him and figure out what’s inside. I wish I could undo what happened, and we could start over.
It hurts that he won’t look at me the same way now. I sniffle as I head back to my car.
“Tiff.” Eli’s voice takes me by surprise. “Did work go all right today?”
“Huh?” I ask stupidly. When I turn around, Eli is leaning on the bed of the truck with a dark look on his face.
“Today,” he says. “After what happened last night at the restaurant.”
I shudder just thinking about arriving in the office this morning. “It was… fine. My boss didn’t say anything to me, which is maybe worse. He just had this horrible grin on his face the whole time.” I wrap my arms around myself. “He’s going to hold this over me forever.”
“What’s your boss’s name?”
The question is so out of left field that it takes me a few seconds to process what he’s asking.
“Oh, um,” I stutter, “it’s Mr. Bosley.”
Eli shakes his head. “His real, full name.”
Why does he want to know? Eli’s expression is intense. I think if he were in his wolf form, whatever that looks like, his mane would be bristling. What’s on his mind? He’s so opaque.
“Orland. Orland Bosley.” It really is the world’s worst name. “Why?”
Eli ignores my question. “What has you so scared of a guy named ‘Orland’?” His tone makes me flinch.
Why is he being so... I don’t know, mean? He must really find me distasteful.
Fine. If he’s going to be like this, I’m not going to stand for it.
“Oh, besides the fact that he’s my boss?” I shoot back. “That he’s the guy who writes me a check every two weeks?” All my bottled-up fear and frustration bursts out of me as anger. “The guy who could decide at any time to fire me, and then I’d be without that paycheck and unable to pay my rent? Yeah, I don’t know why I’d be scared of that guy.”
Eli's mouth tilts down at my answer, but he doesn’t have a quippy response. Good. I don’t need him telling me to quit, too—as if it’s that easy to snap your fingers and get another job.
“He’s done a number on you,” Eli says at last, and this time his voice is much softer. “How has this man convinced you that you’re not worth more?”
“It’s just life to have a boss you hate.” I shove my hands into my pockets and look down at the ground. “That’s how it is when you work for other people.”
Eli studies my face. “All right,” he finally says, and I didn’t realize how close he had been until he steps away, grabbing a shovel and tossing it into the back of the truck. “If that’s how you feel. I’m going to head home for the night.”
It’s so dismissive that I flinch.
“Oh. Okay.” I start heading back to my car. “Thanks for, um… being here.”
“You can count on me.” Strangely, it doesn’t sound sarcastic. “Take care of yourself.”
I’m sad to drive away with Eli still thinking I’m weak, that I let some asshole like Mr. Bosley control my life. I probably care too much about his opinion, but at the same time, it hurts to know that somehow, I’ve ruined whatever chance I had at a relationship with him, even just as friends.
I spend the night watching reruns and wishing I’d had the nerve to ask Eli what I could do to fix things between us.
And what does the driver of that black car want with me? Whatever shit Mr. Bosley is getting into, I just hope it hasn’t dripped off his roof and landed on me.
Finally, I give up and flick the TV off around ten. When I head to bed, I get a text from Leon.
Thinking of you. Hoping your day was okay with Mr. Fuckface
I smile down at the message. He’s truly a good guy, and I’m lucky to have him.