Page 20 of Heart of Stone
Sitting back in my chair, I offered a half-hearted shrug. “I can’t say. Perhaps the staff here has been so overwhelmed by your kindness and great leadership that they wanted to demonstrate their appreciation.”
Reid finally entered the room and crossed it, only stopping when he made it to the opposite side of my desk. “Ah, I see. And you think I’ll believe this happened without your knowledge? The woman who seems to be aware of everything that goes on at this place.”
I tipped my chin up. Did that bother him?
“You’re right. That seems unlikely.” I crossed one leg over the other and allowed my lips to curve into a smile. “Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer.”
He carefully placed the basket of muffins on the edge of my desk and sneered at me. “Do you think this is funny?”
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t imagine actively choosing to live in such misery. Didn’t Reid have anything to be happy about?
Sighing, I confessed, “Fine. They’re from me.”
“I already figured that out. I guess I’m wondering why you thought I’d need even one muffin, let alone six thousand calories’ worth of them.”
There were two dozen muffins there, but I had no clue if his calorie calculations were correct.
“It’s a peace offering, Reid.”
He jerked back at that. “What?”
This was exhausting. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot for some reason I can’t begin to understand. You and I have to work together for the next six months, and I realize that what I did yesterday probably isn’t going to have you feeling all warm and fuzzy toward me.” I swept my hand out to indicate the muffins. “This was my way of apologizing to you for doing what I had to do to protect myself.”
Reid balled his hands into fists and pressed them directly onto the top of my desk as he leaned in. Whether it was meant to be intimidating or not, I didn’t know.
“What exactly did you think you had to protect yourself from?”
I shot him an incredulous look. “It’s clear you don’t like me. I don’t know what I did to you to make it so, but I lost my cool the other night when I threw that ice pack at you, and I regret it. I also realized that you’re able to fire me if that’s what you choose, and I can admit I panicked. That’s why I went to see Barrett and Sylvia.”
“So, the kind thing you did with making that dinner was really just about protecting yourself?”
I swallowed roughly and whispered my reply. “No.”
“It sure seems that way now.”
“I adore your parents, Reid.” Anger bubbled up inside me. He could hate me all he wanted, but I wasn’t going to allow this man—or anyone else—question how much the Ericksons meant to me. “In case you forgot or simply chose to ignore it, I’ve asked you several times about your mom and how she was doing. It’s not my fault that you refuse to be cordial about it. But I won’t lieand say that I didn’t have a secondary motive for paying them a visit.”
He hesitated a moment, his eyes roaming over my face. “You’d go to those lengths to ensure I didn’t fire you?”
I pressed my lips together, unwilling to allow him to see just how real the fear of losing this place was to me. “Yes, I would. But I can recognize how me doing that was unfair. In my defense, I had no clue you’d be there yesterday. So, I’m sorry for any strife that my words then might have caused between you and your parents. That was never my intention. And I realize that you’re dealing with a lot of change right now, and that can’t be easy, so I’m trying to extend an olive branch.” I tossed my hand out to the edge of the desk, feeling marginally defeated. “Or a basket of muffins, I guess.”
Reid continued to study me, like he was trying to work out answers to questions he never intended to ask.
“I don’t need your apology,” he clipped. “And I certainly don’t want your pity. I’m perfectly fine, and I hate pumpkin anyway.”
God, what a jerk.
I was tempted to ask him why he didn’t just slap me across the face. It’d be much easier. And it would probably hurt a whole lot less.
Uncrossing my legs, I leaned forward, forced myself to be wildly interested in something on my computer screen, and murmured, “Then put them in the break room for everyone else to enjoy, if you’re unwilling to accept them. Evidently, you’re allergic to kindness, and if I had known, I wouldn’t have wasted my time.”
I began clicking away on the mouse and finally just opened a blank email. My fingers flew across the keyboard, typing all the things I wanted to say to Reid but couldn’t for fear that I’d give him the good reason Barrett had mentioned him needing to actually fire me.
Reid growled, and I suspected he wanted to say something else. For whatever reason—likely some merciful divinity—he kept his mouth shut, picked up the basket, and walked away.
A few hours later, I saw them sitting in the break room, and I hated the way it made me feel.
But there was a hint of redemption on Tuesday afternoon when I entered Reid’s office with some financial reports and saw two empty muffin wrappers sitting in his trash can.
