Page 68 of Set Me On Fire

“Gareth.”

When he held out his hand, I shook it.

“Millie.”

“I worked that out.” He nodded to Dave. “And you don’t need to take his shit.”

“Is this talking shit?” Dave looked me up and down slowly, and I barely contained my shudder. “You’re looking lovely today, Millie.”

“Amelia.”

I only gave people my full name when I had to, but right now I didn’t want him using my nickname at all.

“Amelia.” The idiot seemed to assume I’d granted him some special favour or something. “Your skin, your hair…” He waved his hand vaguely as Gareth snorted and turned back to his food. “You’re glowing.”

Those three words had my fork freezing halfway between my food and my mouth. When I stared at him, I saw the look of self-congratulation. He thought he had my attention and could push his advantage. Instead, I dropped the fork into my lunchbox.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Gareth shook his head with a smile, but Dave’s brows drew down.

“You don’t have to be a bitch…”

Anything he might have to say was cut off by the sound of a bell. Every man stopped what he was doing, dropping his food, setting down drinks, whatever was in hand to move.

Right as Noah and his crew were about to walk in.

I saw Noah’s expression, followed the shapes his lips made, cursing the bell, right before his eyes locked with mine. For just a second, the shrill sound was a soundtrack to what? What the hell was this? Charlie asked Noah the same thing, giving him a nudge, then steering him away.

“You can tidy this up, right, love?”

Dave’s use of that endearment felt wrong, but before I could protest, I was alone in an empty break room, mess scattered over every table. Chairs were left jerked out, the fridge door even hanging open. Judy hadn’t filled me in on this part of the job, but cleaning up after blokes who left a mess behind par for the course in a pub. I closed the fridge, then went to work. Stack the dishwasher with dirty cups and cutlery, push in chairs, wrap what was left of people’s meals and stow them in the fridge. I was about halfway through when Brent walked in.

“What are you doing?”

My head jerked up and I met his eyes.

“Um… cleaning up?”

“That’s not your job.”

“Oh, well, sorry.” I left the lunchbox on the desk. “Dave said?—”

“That idiot…” He shook his head slowly. “Do me a favour, Millie, and ignore pretty much everything that comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground.” That had me snorting involuntarily. Brent’s smile had me relaxing by increments as he steered me towards the office. “Now, how is Judy treating you? Getting your head around the job?”

We talked briefly about my first two days until the woman herself rejoined us.

“Oh, that was a mistake.” She waddled over to the couch in the admin office. “I could just close my eyes right now and drift off…”

“Have a rest.” There was something eminently fatherly about Brent. “Millie’s got this, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

That was the only answer I could give as I went to work.

So didyou tell them yet?

I saw Jamie’s text as I walked out at the end of my day, or rather, I felt it. Her breath on the back of my neck, her fingers in my ribs, pushing me forward. I didn’t need any further coercion from my family because I was in the just-get-it-done phase now. I was sick of trying, failing, trying again, and so I marched out into the appliance bay…

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