Page 8 of Stuck with the Grump

“Nothing,” Leigh said, clutching the notebook close to her chest. Her eyes widened as I crossed the room and sat on the couch across from her.

“Come on, Leigh. What’s in the notebook?”

My curiosity peaked. There had to be something important in there if her cheeks turned bright red every time I mentioned it. For a moment, I wondered if she was writing about me.

“Whatever it is—unless you are plotting my murder—it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not that bad,” she said, biting her bottom lip again. I stared at her mouth, wishing I was the one biting that lip. “It’s just some work I’ve been meaning to get done but I’ve never had any time to before.”

“What kind of work?”

She sighed and I could see the walls she had built come tumbling down. “It’s a business plan of sorts. Except I’m having a hell of a time with it. Then that pisses me off more because I went to school for this shit.”

Leigh tossed the notebook onto the coffee table between us. She clutched a pillow to her chest and watched as I picked it up and looked at the page she was on. The paper was covered in tiny numbers, a running list of start-up costs and calculations. There were dark marks where she had scribbled out a number to write another one but the math still didn’t seem to be lining up.

“Do you mind?” I asked as I reached for the pen stuck into her bun. She shrugged and took the pen out, handing it to me.

Her eyes were wide as I flipped back and forth between her page and a fresh one, rewriting all the costs before starting to run the calculations. Leigh’s lips pursed as I finished writing at the bottom of the page and circled the final number.

“You had missed a couple numbers further up which kept bringing you into the negative.” I moved closer to her, tilting the notebook so she could see it. “This interest rate was severely inflated based on the loan amount you would be looking for. Unless your credit is zero and you have a co-signer, the rate would be significantly less.”

“You’re making me sound like an idiot,” Leigh said, her voice soft as she looked at the page. “If it was that simple, why did I miss it?”

“You don’t know how to run the calculations properly.”

She bristled and took the notebook back from me. “I was running them just fine before you came over here and started doing them over again.”

“Leigh, you had a mistake two lines in and the mistakes only got worse the further down the page I went.”

Her face flushed a bright red. “Wow. Could you sound any more condescending or would you like some help?”

“I’m not trying to be condescending but it would probably be in your best interest to find someone that’s actually good at math to run your calculations.”

“Screw you,” she muttered, leaning back into the pillows.

“You’re acting like a child.”

“Well, you’re acting like you think I’m an incompetent child. Do you even hear the tone of your voice? Oh, I’m Clarke and I make millions—and I’m as old as the fucking dirt—which means I know best. Listen to me, young grasshopper.”

I didn’t know whether to be mad at her, laugh at her, or kiss her to shut her up. I could see the insecurities shining through and didn’t take the age comment to heart. Still, she was annoying the hell out of me, and I wasn’t going to stand here and argue with her.

“Leigh, think about what you want. I’m going to bed. If you want more help in the morning before I leave, please let me know.”

She flipped me off as I walked away. I smothered the laughter that threatened to bubble to the surface and left the room. I didn’t know why she was looking for a fight, but I wasn’t about to have one with her. The last thing I thought was that she was incompetent. If she thought that, she could wallow in her own misery for a few hours.

All I knew as I crawled into bed was that I was more attracted to her than I had been hours ago.

5

LEIGH

AftermyargumentwithClarke, I went to bed horrified by how I had behaved and only woke up when I heard a loud crashing noise from the living room. My hands were shaking and my heart was racing as I grabbed the bat I kept under my bed and walked down the hallway. As I walked through the house, I could still hear Clarke lightly snoring in his room.

How the hell does somebody sleep through noise like that?

When I walked into the living room, I was greeted with a soaking wet tree and shattered glass. I lowered the bat, my heart still racing as I surveyed the damage. Rain was pouring through the gaping hole in the roof and wall. The wind howled as it ripped through the house and sent vases tumbling to the ground.

“Shit,” I said, turning around and hurrying down the hall.

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