Page 19 of The Confidentiality Clause
“I made them for an open house I just came from. Nothing like the smell of freshly baked cookies to sell a home.”
“I’d buy a house based on this cookie alone,” I say after eating the rest in one bite. My head tips in the direction of what I now know is an oil diffuser. “Why the lavender?”
“It’s good forstress,” she says in a pointed tone as she reaches for a cookie. “Which you have a lot of.”
I can’t argue with her there. As much as I’d like to.
“It’s a part of the job.” I shrug and grab another cookie.
“I think that you have more control over that part than you think,” she counters.
“You know what increases stress?” I ask. She raises a brow. “Arguing.”
Her brown hair falls into her eyes as she shakes her head. “You’re hopeless.”
“Then why are you here?” I ask without thinking.
Her eyes pierce mine. “Because your sister is my best friend and she’s worried about you. I’m hoping that if I come around enough, maybe one day you’ll get it through your head that there are people whocareabout you. Who want you healthy and thriving.”
I shift in my seat. I drop my gaze.
“We have different definitions of healthy and thriving,” I say.
She laughs. “We do. The biggest difference being mine is right and yours is wrong.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Well your definition landed you in the hospital with a prescription, so mine is looking pretty good comparatively.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
She watches me for a quiet moment. I busy myself with checking my email inbox. I click around, but don’t accomplish anything. Lavender has begun to scent the air. It doesn’t relax me though, rather, it reminds me of Ariel’s purpose here.
“You don’t have to talk to me about it, but you should talk tosomebody.” I stiffen at her implication. “You’re working yourself into the ground. You shouldn’t be in your office this late at night drinking coffee to keep your eyes open.”
“You worked late too,” I try to defend myself. “It’s not a bad thing to push a little while building a business.”
Her gaze is weighted with concern.
I sigh. “I don’t do this every night. And even if I did, I’m going home after I leave here. I don’t sleep in my office or work into the morning hours. If for some reason I did do that, I would take the next day off. I’m willing to bet you haven’t taken a day off in a long time, if ever.”
I haven’t. I’ve taken hours off–sort of–but not a full day. There’s too much to be done. I’d get behind and never catch up.
“I get what you’re saying, but I’m fine. This is only a season.”
She nods. “I know you think that. All I’m doing is trying to get you to see a different side.”
If only she could seemyside. Then maybe I’d have someone in my life who understood. But no one seems to get it except other agents.
“I should get back to work,” I say. “Thank you for the cookies and the lavender stuff.”
She sighs and stands. “You’re welcome. Try to leave before midnight, okay?”
I nod and keep my eyes on my monitor. She waits for a moment before leaving. The click of her heels echoes with her departure.
A sinking feeling develops deep within my core. As though I sped down a hill too fast while driving. The words on my screen start to blur. I spin to face the windows behind me. The city is spread out. Intimidatingly vast. Red taillights beam in the night. Cop cars barrel down the streets. Skyscrapers hundreds of floors tall loom. Couples meet for drinks. Families for dinner. And then there’s me.Alone.
Chapter ten
