Page 16 of Between Us

And both times I’ve sat here, sneakily watching it happen, there’s been this… dark, inky feeling that spreads through my body. It’s as if I have no choice but to watch as he talks to the woman, like I need to know every little detail of their interaction, while at the same time I’d rather rinse my eyes out with salt than have to watchthis.

I’m sure there’s a name for that feeling, but I’d rather not identify it. Nor the one that flutters in my chest when he shows little interest in those women.

He doesn’t offer her a second glance as he strides confidently toward me, that goddamn grin easily plastered to his face. Unlike me, he’s quick to laugh and offers easy smiles to anyone he comes in contact with. But ever since that day at the grocery store, it’s felt like the one he offers me is different. Softer, more genuine somehow.

Anyone with two working eyes can see how handsome Adrian is. He has a clean fade with short, natural curls and dark brown eyes that are almost a perfect match to his deep mahogany skin. Somehow, his round face and deep dimples give him a cute boyish charm, but don’t negate from the fact he’s a few years older than me—four at least.

Twisting my lips to hide my smile, I don’t say anything, just watch him. Most of our interactions start because he initiates them, unless it’s work related. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him. Sometimes it just feels like I’ve lost all of my social skills outside of my family and friends. Before I can even open my mouth, my anxieties have already played through a hundred ways I could ruin this somewhat easy banter he keeps alive. And that’s the last thing I want.

It sparks something in my chest that he never seems to mind my awkward reluctance though.

Right as he’s about to speak, the phone rings. I try to hide my small smirk at his slight disappointment as I grab it.

“Hi, Amada Beach Animal Clinic. This is Bl—” I’m cut off by the familiar voice of one of our clients, Lela. If the Spanish she speaks wasn’t enough of a clue, then the hoarseness of someone that used to smoke a pack a day is a dead giveaway. If she hadn’t recognized my voice, she would’ve used English herself, but it’s not her first language nor preferred one.

“Ah, hola. ¿Cómo estás, Lela?”I listen as she tells me about why she’s calling. She’s a talker though, so it’s never a quick story. This time, it starts with how her daughter came to visit with her kids, and one of those kids found a lump on her cat,Chispa.

“Claro que podemos revisar eso,”I tell her, promising that we’ll getChispachecked out. Doing my best to ignore the way Adrian tilts his head and watches me with a curious expression, I continue our conversation in Spanish. “Let me see what our earliest availability is right now.”

I can practically feel the hesitancy from her before she asks in a low voice, “Will this be expensive? I’m sure we can figure something out if it is…”

My hands freeze over the keyboard as she trails off, lost in her stressful thoughts. Without trying to chide her, I ask, “Lela, did you go over those pet insurance brochures my dad sent you a few weeks ago?” Her silence is my answer, and I tsk as if I’m the seventy-five-year-old woman, not her.

She chuckles, and I can almost imagine her swatting me away. “She’s just so young. I thought we had time.”

“It’s best to get it for her now, while she’s young and it can help with any preventative care. But it’s not too late. Let me get an updated list of the ones we accept here, and we can go over the options together.”

It takes a bit of convincing for Lela to accept the help—multiple promises that it’s not at all an inconvenience,andI will do the talking if she has to call anyone while setting it up. Finally, she agrees once I emphasize that this is her best option if it’s something serious withChispa. Before we get off the phone, I make plans to visit her tomorrow morning so we can get the appointment booked as soon as possible.

When I swirl to my right to put the phone away, I’m startled by Adrian’s presence. I got kind of distracted while talking to Lela and assumed he would’ve walked away by now. But he’s still standing there with that curiosity gracing his face.

“You know Spanish?”

I nod. “It’s my mom’s first language, but I’m the only one other than her who is fluent. My dad and brother understand almost everything, but speaking it is another thing altogether.”

“Makes sense. I’ve taken a few classes, but it’s never really stuck.”

Looking up through my lashes, I tell him, “You should reconsider how hard you tried. I know most of the clinics and hospitals in the area would pay close to fifteen percent more if you were bilingual.”

His mouth practically unhinges. “Shut up.Fifteen?” Slowly, I nod again. “How do you know that?”

“You overhear a lot when you’re easily forgettable and the boss’s daughter,” I joke.

He’s quiet for a second before he speaks in a low voice, “Trust me, I’ve never consideredthatword to describe you.” My mouth pops up in a small, surprisedO.

Since the grocery store?I mentally ask, not able to form the actual words. It feels too vulnerable somehow. Especially after I pretended that I didn’t remember him. I definitely did—so did Margo and Meera, who both screamed when I told them he’s one of my dad’s new employees. I still haven’t admitted that I wondered about him almost every day, eventually assuming he was just a tourist taking a late summer trip.

Never missing a beat at my badly timed silence, he effortlessly returns to a much safer topic. “Anyway, what was the client saying? Lela, I think?”

Nodding, I swallow and glance around, breaking eye contact. Looking back at him, I explain our conversation and her worries about the financial costs if the lumps aren’t benign. “So, I told her I’d help her choose between a few plans and make some calls if she has questions.”

“Really?” His brows scrunch in what looks like surprise. I can feel my face fall into a scowl at his response, and he quickly backtracks. “No,no. I didn’t mean it like that—like you aren’t someone who would help in a time of need. It’s just that not every person would offer up their free morning to help an elderly woman sign up for pet insurance either.”

I can still feel my hackles rising, but I try to be receptive to what he’s saying. Tolistento him, rather than let my own deafening insecurities start to take over.

After a second, trying to gather my thoughts, I slowly reply, “I can understand that. Kind of. I mean, Iknowthat’s how a lot of people are. But it’s not how I was raised. I don’t even think my parents really had toteachmy brother and I what it means to be a part of a community—especially one like Amada Beach. They just lived their lives, and we followed by example, you know?” I can feel myself starting to ramble, so I take a breath. “So, yeah. I guess it’s not really something I’d even think twice about.”

Plus, Lela’s basically like a surrogate grandmother. But even if she wasn’t, even if she was the Pain in My Ass herself, I’d still help if it was within my capabilities.

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