Page 2 of The Next Of Us
“Yes?”I barked.
The door cracked open tentatively.“Hey,” she breathed.Pale face flushed, eyes wide, she looked at me hopefully.“I’m heading to The Beanery.Can I get you anything?A muffin?Sandwich?”
“I’m good,” I replied shortly, training my gaze on the blank screen in front of me as if it contained the key to Holy Grail.
“Are you sure?”
I didn’t bother to mask my irritation as I cast my eyes vaguely in her direction.“Did you ask Max what he wanted?What about Vera?”
“N-no,” she sputtered, then straightened her spine.Her hands fluttered in front of her body.
I watched them move up to fiddle with the low neckline of her blouse.Had she always dressed like that?Was I getting paranoid about her attentions?
“I just thought with how busy you’ve been, you might need a little extra support.”
Support?
My eyes snapped up to meet hers.There was no mistaking the look of triumph in her eyes.
I barely repressed a sneer and smiled grimly instead.“Thank you, Lynda.You are not my personal assistant.Furthermore, my wife, who is an excellent chef, looks after me just fine.”
“But you’re here late every night…”
My brows lowered as my gaze narrowed.“And you know that how?”
She shrugged one shoulder.“I walk past here every night after dinner.Maybe you should walk with me.I’m a good listener.It might clear your head.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I prayed for patience.Or serendipitous intervention.“That’s neither relevant nor any concern of yours,” I bit out only to be thankfully interrupted by Max.
“Lynda?”Max’s sharper than usual tone brokered no argument.
I sagged in relief.
He continued, “Come into my office please.”
She gaped and drew back, her eyes skittering between Max and me.
With a weary nod in my direction, Max indicated he would take care of the situation in the precise way we’d been trying to avoid.It killed me for it to come to this because she needed the income.
But I wanted her gone.
When my door snicked gently shut, I sat back in my chair and stared unseeing out the window.If I leaned to the side, I could almost see the tip of Wildflower Bluffs.
I lost several minutes staring at the bluffs before Max’s large shadow darkened my desk.I jerked upright.“Well?”
With a deep sigh, he settled in the chair across from me and crossed his ankle over his knee.“I gave her two weeks notice.”
I grimaced.“I’m relieved and I feel so shitty about being relieved.”
His lips tightened as he nodded in agreement.“There’s no help for it.I did, however, secure her an interview with my accountant.He’s desperate for help.”His grin made him look twenty years younger, bringing me back to that most magical, and stressful, time of my life.“And it helps that he’s pushing seventy.”
I chuckled, the sound dry and raspy from disuse.
“Aaron—” he began.
I held up a palm, closing my eyes to shield myself from the compassion in his.“I can’t, Max.”I looked away and sighed.“I know I need to, but not just yet.”As if reminded, I lurched forward, tugged the top drawer open, and withdrew the file on impulse.
“You’re not going to find answers in there,” Max countered firmly.
