Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Erica
All through the kids’ play, all I can think about is Brew.
Why in God’s name did I touch him? It’s like I’m not even in control of my body when I’m around him.
It hums to his tune, and then I do stupid things like reach out and squeeze his very muscular arm for no apparent reason.
Don’t I know the simple rules as an employee?
Never touch your boss is up there with the best of them.
It wasn’t like he seemed to mind, not that that’s any excuse. In fact, the way his jaw steeled when my fingers touched him had our eyes locking for a few terrifying moments.
What did I see when I looked into those steely blues that hide so much?
Even though I know I should run a mile from this man, something inside me draws my body closer like a magnet.
He’s broody, there’s no denying that, but there’s a chemistry between us.
Darkness swirls all around him, it follows him like a cloak, but again, I’m not afraid.
I know with a hundred percent certainty he would never hurt me.
If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have offered to go and get a new battery for my van. It’s not like he has to do it. I just work for him. I would’ve had to borrow his truck regardless, because I still had to get to school on time, and with all of the costumes, so it was nice of him to step in.
Me
Hey Brew. Thanks for the loan of your truck. I’ll switch back to my van after the play finishes tonight
Of course, Brew doesn’t read his message right away. He’s not good with technology. He may have a computer at his desk, but he’s rarely on it. He also despises phones with a vengeance. So, it’s half an hour later before he replies.
Brew
Keep it tonight. Just switch over tomorrow. Too late to be at the shop at night
I stare at the message. He’s probably right. I’m heading to work first thing after dropping Olive at school.
“Mom?” Olive says when we’re driving home. “I like Brew’s truck.”
“Really?” I laugh. “It’s kinda big.”
“Yeah, but it makes a statement.”
“I can’t argue with that, but sadly tomorrow we’ll be back driving the minivan now that the battery has been replaced.”
“I like the van too,” she tells me, never one to hurt my feelings. “It’s got character.”
“It certainly has plenty of that.”
When I get to our apartment, the doorman greets us.
“I have an Uber Eats delivery for you, Erica,” Jackson says. “They were just delivered.”
I frown. “Oh, there must be some mistake, I didn’t order any,” I say.
Olive bends over the counter to read the ticket. “It has your name on it, Mom.”
I frown. “My name?”
“Yep, it’s from that Thai place on Main, the one we went to for my birthday.”
“Oh.” I bend to look closer. Someone ordered us Thai food? “That’s odd.”
“Just the messenger.” Jackson smiles. “Bon appetite.”
“Thanks, Jackson,” I say, then to Olive, “let’s get in and we’ll figure it out.”
Olive takes the bags with glee. “It smells delicious,” she says as we get in the elevator, but I hate to disappoint her. I’m not just going to eat food left on my doorstep by some random stranger. It’s weird.
As we get inside, my phone dings as I set my bag onto the counter. When I fish it out, I’m surprised to see Brew’s text.
Brew
I organized dinner
That’s it. No explanation, nothing. While I’m relieved we don’t have to throw good food away, I don’t know why he did that.
Me
Thanks. You didn’t have to do that, but Thai is Olive’s favorite
It takes five minutes to get his reply.
Brew
I know
Me
Are you saving me from having to cook?
I stare at his words. How can so little mean so much? He bought us Thai food for no reason other than he knew we’d be getting in late and wouldn’t have eaten yet.
I make all of my own food, so having takeout is a luxury for us.
Brew
That’s what good bosses do
That is pantymelting hot, and it shouldn’t be.
I clear my throat. “Brew sent the food, wasn’t that nice of him?”
Olive claps her hands. “Yay! You have the world’s best boss, Mom.”
Don’t I know it.
Me
Olive says thanks, she’s excited
Brew
What about you?
My heart leaps. Olive gets the bowls ready on the counter, then goes to wash up.
Me
I appreciate it. I also owe you for the battery, just send me the bill
Brew
Don’t worry about it
I frown. He’s doing all these super sweet things for me, but what on earth for? The man barely says two words to me. I decide to outright ask him. I’m already self conscious of owing money to anyone since I’m still paying back Luna and Tag.
I don’t want anyone thinking I’m here for a free ride.
Me
I pay my own way. I appreciate it more than you know, but you don’t have to pay for my minivan repairs
Brew
Wasn’t repairs. It was a dead battery. The thing runs pretty good
I smile to myself. Wow. The thing.
Me
The thing? I prefer to call her Maisie
Brew
Maisie?
Me
Maisie the minivan - it was Olive’s idea
Brew
If anything, your minivan should be called Bluey
Woah, is that Brew making a joke? How incredibly unlike him. In the time that I’ve known him, and worked for the Nomad Brothers, I’ve never known him to be funny. He’s the polar opposite of Haze, who’s always quick with a joke.
Me
I think I like Maisie better
I smile to myself, taking the containers out of the bags and begin serving each dish into the bowls.
He ordered way too much food. There’s chicken, rice, noodles, some other meat dish with vegetables and then the spring rolls with dipping sauce.
I never knew Brew could be so thoughtful.
I guess I’m learning all kinds of things about my boss that I didn’t know.
I think back to his text…
What about you?
I shouldn’t read too much into it. He clearly didn’t mean anything by that.
It’s likely he’s just making sure I didn’t think this would be a regular thing.
Not that I expect it would be; he’s never bought us food before.
But I can’t lie and say my heart doesn’t flutter just a little at the idea he thought about us.
We sit at the table, give our thanks, and dig in.
Olive chats about the play and an upcoming sleepover at her bestie, Camille’s, house.
I’m not a helicopter parent, but I also don’t like Olive staying over at a friend’s whose parents I don’t know well.
Luckily I know Cami’s Mom, Indigo, Harlem’s ol’ lady, and they’re like two peas in a pod.
I also know Indigo is strict and no nonsense, I trust her.
Cami also sleeps over here as often as Olive stays at her place.
After our ordeal leaving the compound, and me having to abandon my daughter for the greater good with her aunt, every time I have to be apart from Olive now, it gets me every single time.
I battle with whether I did the right thing, knowing I would never, ever leave my child unless her life was in danger.
Which it was, but guilt still gnaws away at me.
I punish myself day in, day out, because I know what that did to her, and I can never get that time back.
A million things run through my mind every day.
What if I hadn’t made it back?
What if the mafia had sent my family my body as payback?
I shudder at the idea.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“I’m thinking about taking ASL, there’s a new kid in our class who’s deaf,” Olive says, surprising me. “I thought it might be nice to learn some and communicate with him.”
I smile at my thoughtful child. I hope she stays like this forever. “That sounds like a great idea, honey.”
“Mrs. Jefferies said a bunch of us could learn during library time, if we wanted.”
“Well, I think that’s a very productive thing to do. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
She smiles, eating her food like she has hollow legs. My girl is only a teenager, and she’s already almost as tall as me.
“Slow down,” I add. “You’ll get indigestion.”
“Kinda nice of Brew to buy us dinner. How come he did that?”
I try not to choke on my tofu. Recovering quickly, I say, “He was just being a good boss because he knew we were out late.”
“Cami told me she overheard Harlem and her mom talking and H said Brew likes you and that’s why he acts kinda weird around you.” I do choke on my tofu this time, reaching for the water, I chug it down while Olive pats me on the back. “Sorry, Mom.”
I wave her off, coughing until my eyes are watering. “What on earth? He doesn’t act weird around me, he’s just quiet.” Oh, my goodness. Harlem thinks that Brew likes me, or Brew does like me? Why does that make my heart rate kick up ten thousand notches?
She shrugs. “Well, he lets you have all the time off you ask for, he gave you a job, didn’t he say he’s replacing your battery free of charge, then the food…”
“He’s just being nice, and it isn’t just him giving me time off and a job, it’s Haze, too. And you shouldn’t be listening to adult conversations,” I tell her sternly. “That’s how things get misconstrued.”
“It didn’t sound very misconstrued. H said Brew has a ‘major jones’ for Erica and that he hasn’t had a girlfriend in years because his other girlfriend died.”
I pause, my fork settling into the bowl. “A major jones?” I shake my head, that isn’t the point. “Please don’t ever repeat that about Brew to anyone, that’s sensitive information, and if he overheard it, that wouldn’t be very kind.”
“Mom, I wouldn’t do that. I was just telling you what I heard.”
My heart hurts when I think about his loss. Still, I’m not having this conversation with my daughter. “Brew is… prickly at times, but he has his reasons.”
“He had a pet pig once.”
I frown at her. “What?”
She nods gleefully, I might add, because she knows something I don’t. “He told me.”
“He had a pet pig?”
“Yes, it was called Maurice, and he wants to get another one because he said pigs make great pets and that they’re misunderstood. Ever since I heard him say that, I stopped eating bacon.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Well, don’t even think about us getting a pet pig in this apartment,” I chuckle. “But I’m sure he’s right about them being misunderstood.”
“They’re apparently really clean animals, they only roll in mud to keep cool and for skin protection,” she goes on. “And they separate their living, eating and toilet areas.”
My child often likes to learn facts when she’s really interested in a subject. Apparently, that’s now pigs.
“Well, I didn’t know that,” I say. “But I think you need to finish supper and have a shower before it gets too late.”
Luckily, she’s also easily distracted.
As I clean up after dinner, I can’t help thinking about Harlem and Indi saying those things about Brew and me.
Was he just teasing, or does he really know that Brew likes me?
I’ve examined the evidence in my head over and over, and I still can’t come to a conclusion.
Let’s face it, Brew doesn’t like anyone. Even if he did, we’re so different.
We have absolutely nothing in common. Even when Sawyer hinted at the meeting that Brew hadn’t been around the sweet butts at the club in forever.
Those sweet butts at the club keep askin’ for you.
I meant what I said about them not being pieces of meat, but I can’t deny that I liked hearing he hadn’t been around the women in the club.
And that right there is the reason I need to keep this professional.
Brew is my boss, and no matter how generous he’s being, I am not going to be on the back of his freaking sled. Not happening.