Page 116 of A Ticking Time Boss

Too hopeful than too cynical.

I don’t know what’ll happen. If Carter even wants to talk to me again, if that bridge is burned, if I’m back to bad first dates and nursing a broken heart. But I carry Dad’s words with me like a token.

The city is cold and empty when I arrive at the station. I lug my too-heavy bag with me on the subway. Mom had insisted on baking bread, two whole loaves, and packing them in with my clothes.

I round the street to mine. The familiar stoop beckons, and I can’t wait to collapse on my too-small bed in my too-small shithole of an apartment. Work starts tomorrow again, and the idea of seeing Carter from a distance is painful.

Something I’ll have to get used to, I suppose.

There’s a figure sitting on my stoop. I slow down. There are plenty of weirdos in the city. Should I just keep walking and circle back? No, that coat looks nice… and the hair is familiar.

Carter is sitting outside my house.

My bag slips through my fingers, landing with a soft thud on the wet sidewalk.

Carter notices. He rises fluidly off the steps, lengthening to his full height. He stretches out a leg like he’s been sitting there for a long time.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly. “Sorry to ambush you like this. I’ll leave if you don’t want to see me.”

My hair is unwashed and in a low ponytail, and I don’t have a drop of makeup on. My feet hurt and I’m tired. And there’s absolutely no way I’d tell him to go.

“Don’t,” I say. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Too long,” he admits. “Pierce came outside and asked me if I wanted to wait up in your room. Which, by the way, is another reason why—no. Never mind.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Were you about to tell me to install that lock you got me?”

“No,” he says, looking sheepish. “Move out, actually.”

“Going for the throat immediately.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry. Not what I’m here for.”

I swallow. “What are you here for?”

“I was wondering… would you be okay if I asked you to go to the pizza place with me? To talk to me? Please, kid, let me explain myself.”

“Will I get a week to think about it, like last time?” I ask with a smile. Back when he’d asked me out on that almost-date, giving me ample time to back out, to consider how wise it is—or isn’t—to date my boss.

Carter shoves his hands in his pockets. It’s so good to see him, the familiar face, the sharp cut of his jaw, the sudden hesitation in his eyes. He doesn’t want to say yes. But he does. “Of course,” he says. “Whatever time you need.”

“Just let me drop off my bag upstairs, okay? I’ll be right down.”

“Of course, yeah. I’ll wait.”

My heart is beating fast as I burst into my room, and it’s not just from running up the stairs. I pull a brush through my hair and change my top before rushing back down.

He’s where I left him. No change, and no longer the distant, cold figure he’d been in his office. We walk toward the restaurant in silence.

“I’m nervous,” I admit.

“Yeah. Hell, Audrey, so am I.”

“I didn’t… know you’d be here.”

“I should have texted. Somehow I just started walking, and thinking about what I wanted to say to you… and I ended up here.”

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