Page 19 of Outcast
His disapproval stung, and I dropped my gaze to the desktop. The damn file folders sat there taunting me, refusing to be ignored. I rubbed the back of my hot neck.
“If you really can’t do it…” he started.
“No, I can.” I forced my voice to stay light. “I’ll get to it right away.”
“Sorry for dropping this on you last minute.”
“It’s all good, Dad.” I flashed a smile, even though my insides twisted and churned. “I just have a full plate, you know? I should focus.”
Thankfully, he took the hint and left me to my dirty work. God. It was stupid that I hated it this much. No one wanted to receive bad news, but it wasn’t my fault. I was just the messenger.
My gaze flitted around my desk, searching for an escape. My coffee cup was empty. I seized on the excuse to get up and refill it. Anything to put off making those calls for another minute or two.
The breakroom was just down the hall. I popped a Raspberry Chocolate Lava coffee pod into our single-cup coffeemaker—another new change that Grandpa wasn’t so thrilled with—and waited while it brewed.
While it did, I tried to give myself a pep talk.
The Riverton Community Bank did a lot of good for the community. It made charitable contributions to the Community Foundation, which gave out grants to worthy projects locally. It sponsored half a dozen events.
It helped folks qualify for home and business loans they’d never be able to get from a big chain. We gave them character equity—our trust that they were going to be responsible borrowers, even if they didn’t look perfect on paper—which just wasn’t possible in a large city. We lent money to our friends and neighbors.
And when we could say yes, it was great. We were well-liked. Loved, even. But when we had to say no…or sorry, but you’ve defaulted…
Well, suddenly, we were the bad guy—and I’d never been so good at being the bad guy. If I had, I wouldn’t have let Dallas threaten me, shove me around, knock me to my knees.
What might have happened if Gray hadn’t shown up when he did?
Bile climbed my throat, and I grabbed my fresh coffee and took a quick gulp to swallow it down. It was too hot, scalding my tongue, but at least it drove thoughts of Dallas from my mind.
The delicious raspberry-chocolate aroma translated to a sad imitation of the flavor once it was in my mouth. Why did it always smell so much better than it tasted? Maybe Grandpa was right to want his old-school coffeepot.
I took another swallow anyway and headed back to my office. My phone buzzed with a text just as I sat down, and I pulled it out, grateful to delay just a few seconds longer.
Allison:
I checked out your crush online. HOTTT.
She’d attached the same photo of Gray I’d been drooling over in my office. I grinned as flutters broke out at the memory of the kiss.
I typed back a quick response.
Emory:
You’re distracting me at work. I’m very busy and important.
Allison:
One is never too busy for some friendly stalking.
Emory:
You should put that on a greeting card.
Allison:
Obsess with me! You kissed a boy and you liked it!
Emory:
