Page 63 of Buried Treasure
He gave her a small smile and went back to work. "Well, we won so you chose a good night to be here."
"I guess."
She stared as Andy continued to move around, almost occupying himself with busy work so he didn't have to acknowledge her presence anymore. The silence was starting to engulf them and it was becoming more and more obvious that she was getting blown off. Andy finally turned and gave her a tight smile.
"So, um, I'm sorry I can't talk more, but…"
He gestured towards the counter that he had completely cleaned off, acting as if there was still more that he had to do before it was finished.
"Oh, right," she said quickly. "Yeah, I should probably get going anyway. Get home and all."
There was a tension that seemed to disappear when Andy realized she was leaving.
"It was good to see you."
"Yeah, you too," she said. "Good night."
"Night."
And with that, Andy turned back to his counter so he could straighten out the stocked cotton ball containers.
Sydney figured that was her cue to walk away so she did. It was obvious that not only did he not want her there, but he was happy with the idea that she was leaving. She was walking away from sweet and sexy and caring Andy. He was the man who apologized after their first kiss because he had dreamed of it being better than that. He was the man who told her she could trust him when her trust in men has disappeared. The man who kept checking in on her when other people distanced themselves from her toxic former job with her crook of a boss.
He was the man who consoled her when she started crying over a dead goldfish.
Sydney stopped in the middle of the hallway and took a breath, trying to push down whatever emotion was threatening to burst out of her. Once again, she was a failure. That seemed to be the theme of her entire year so far and it wasn't even March. Failure after failure.
She looked up, trying to assess her surroundings and make sure no one was watching her. But someone was. Ryan was standing at the other end of the hall, shoulders hunched over, a sad look on his face. He seemed to be the most heartbroken of all of them. But mixed in with that was a look that started to piss Sydney off. He felt sorry for her.Poor Sydney, he must be thinking. Her work life sucked and now her personal life was a complete disaster. Her only friends were her lawyer, an immature rookie and his mom. Her parents couldn't even be bothered to call her and when they did, it was just to tell her that she had made a mistake and it was time to give up and move home.
Screw that. Screw all of that. Screw having to remember which conversations were and were not covered by attorney-client privilege when she was talking to her best friend. Screw Ryan for feeling sorry for her like she was some broken cause. Screw Gretzky for being a stupid dead goldfish. Most important, screw Andy for trying to get her out of there quietly.
Sydney could feel her heart beat faster and her blood begin to boil. She was not broken, she was not weak, and she sure as hell was not walking out of this arena without saying what she had to say.
She looked Ryan in the eye and quietly said, "Go home."
He flashed her a wicked smile that she only saw for a split second before she turned around and headed back to the trainers' room. Andy was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest and his head ducked down, staring at his feet. But this time, Sydney was anything but quiet with her entrance and his eyes immediately looked up at her as she stopped to stare at him.
"You can't get rid of me that easily," she told him.
He pushed himself off the counter and stood up taller to face her. "Listen, Sydney—"
"No, you listen!"
His eyes snapped up to her face in surprise, and to be fair, she was pretty surprised herself at the tone of her voice. Screw it, she was going to go with it.
"The past month has been the worst of my life. The worst!" she yelled. "My boss stole a lot of money from some very nice people, and I didn't stop him because I didn't know what was going on. It was obvious that things were messed up, and yet I didn't notice any of it. One of my best friends had an emergency appendectomy that took me almost a whole day to find out about because I was mad about the work thing. And apparently it's my fault he went to the hospital because, according to him, I gave him a bagel instead of a donut that morning. Oh, and his dead fish made me cry."
She was on a roll, and she didn't care. She took two steps forward, watching Andy's eyes widen as she got closer.
"And then there was you. Andy Mitchell. You said I could trust you, and I did, and that's what led me to get hurt. Because after all I had been though, I still decided that maybe, perhaps, I should trust you. Now of course, I did some things wrong. Really wrong. I know that now. It doesn't help if I know that I trust you without actually picking up the phone and saying to you, 'I trust you.' That was my mistake. But you?"
She pointed straight at him, making him stand straighter.
"I told you to trust me. I told you that I wasn't interested in hockey players, that there is no way any hockey player could impress me. But you saw one moment completely out of context and immediately jumped to not trusting me."
"I know."
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. That wasn't the answer she was expecting.
