Page 37 of The Reading

“I didn’t ask.”

When she lifted her head, those green orbs of hers were shooing flames of anger my way. While I should be focused on this clusterfuck of a day, instead I was wondering what her eyes looked like when she was riding dick.

“What?” she bit out.

“I’m sending you home for the rest of the day-”

“You can’t do that,” she automatically rushed out, and I wondered if every conversation with her was destined to be an argument. “If we’re staying late, then you need all the tellers you can get.”

“Hattie, tomorrow is the Fourth of July,” I said as calmly as I could. “Instead of getting an early start on their holiday weekend, everyone here now has to work late, thanks to your little stunt. Do you honestly think they want you here?”

Her head reared back as if I’d slapped her. “Wh…what?”

“No one is pleased with you right now, Hattie,” I told her, not sparing her feelings one bit. “I think it’s best foryouto take the rest of the day off. Things are bound to feel strained enough without you here to add to it.”

“Are…are you seriously saying that…that…they’remadat me? For doing myjob?”

It was like talking to a brick wall.

A beautiful brick wall, but still a brick wall.

“More like they’re upset that you ruined their Fourth of July weekend,” I corrected.

“That’s bullshit, Ethan,” she spat, but then she quickly gathered herselftogether. “Look, I’m not stupid. I know what I did was…I know things are a mess. Still, I didn’t do anything wrong. I did what I thought I was supposed to do.”

“He’s seventy-four, Hattie,” I deadpanned.

Hattie stood up, looking stunning while livid as hell. “You know what? Screw you, Ethan,” she hissed. “And screw everyone out there if they’re really mad at me. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I refuse to apologize for that. Now, am I sorry that I was wrong? Of course, I am. I’m sorry that I upset poor Mr. Traverse and our customers, and I’m sorry that I got the police involved when it was just a huge misunderstanding, but that’s all I’m sorry for. I’m sorry that I was wrong, but I’m not sorry for doing what I thought had been the right thing to do.”

I stood up. “Hattie, calm down-”

“Do not patronize me, Ethan,” she practically snarled. “If you’re going to fire me, then just do it. If not, then don’t pretend to give a shit.” That had my eyebrows shooting upward. “In all this time, all you’ve been doing is chastising me like a bratty child. Not once have you asked me if I was okay. I genuinely believed that we were getting robbed, and you haven’t even considered how scared I might have been.” She had a point, and it was hard not to wince with her rightful observation of my behavior. “I might be…be impulsive and…and thoughtless sometimes, but I’m not a bad person.”

“Oh, hey, I never said that you were a bad person-”

“Are you firing me or not?” she snapped. “Just…am I fired?”

“I’m not firing you,” I finally answered her. “However, I cannot guarantee that you’ll still have a job after I talk to all the powers that be.” Her shoulders sagged, and I wondered how it was that I had become the bad guy in this scenario. “I’m sorry, Hattie.”

“Well, since my weekend is already ruined, feel free to call me and fire me as soon as you’re given the word,” she said. “I don’t want to have to walk in on Monday morning, only to have to walk right back out.”

“Hattie-”

“I’ll just go get my stuff and close out my station,” she said. “Is Debra still an option, or is she mad at me, too?”

“You’re fucking killing me,” I sighed, not caring that I’d just crossed a professional boundary.

“Yeah, well, ask me if I care,” she retorted, and I was pretty sure that she didn’t.

*****

Hattie~

Iwasn’t denying that I’d messed up and big time. I was very aware that everyone thought I was a nutjob. Still, I couldn’t understand how nobody could see passed the fuck-up to sympathize with my intentions. I hadn’tmeant to upset anyone, but Mr. Traverse had been acting sketchy, then had slipped Racine a note. His age did not automatically make it impossible for him to be a bank robber. Hell, anyone with access to the internet could easily see that a seventy-four-year-old man robbing a bank wasn’t the craziest thing out there.

The second that Ethan had started goddamning this and goddamning that, it hadn’t been hard to guess at why he’d felt comfortable enough to start cussing around me. Ethan Turner wasn’t one to act unprofessionally for any reason, so he probably knew that I was going to get fired, therefore, there was no longer any need to act professionally around me.

“Oh, my God,” Debra exclaimed. “Did he fire you?”

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