10. Ryan
10
RYAN
M y fingers danced on my keyboard but it was mindless work, copying and pasting information into a spreadsheet for my taxes. With the end of the year approaching, we had a lot of paperwork to finish up and only five weeks left to get in some last-minute donations to offset some of our profit and claim valuable tax write offs. It was a thankless job, but someone had to do it.
My brain, however, didn't want to cooperate. All I could think about was Carrie Bennett perched on the edge of my kitchen counter with her legs spread. And the following romp we had in my bed when the pies were done baking, before she tore herself away from me to go home. I still couldn’t believe it happened. I pinched myself on the arm as she backed Walt's car down my driveway just to feel the pinch of pain and prove to myself that I was awake.
When I kissed her in the park yesterday afternoon, I had no idea how she'd respond. My heart felt like it would explode. I was afraid she might think I was a gross old man hitting on her. Carrie was so young, way too young for me. But she didn't even hesitate to kiss me back, which only stoked the fire burning inside me.
I asked her to come over and thought we'd talk about that kiss and what it meant. I hoped maybe it would lead to another kiss, with maybe the possibility of a discussion about us getting to know each other better. When she broke the ice with that comment… There was no way I would ever have had enough self-control to keep my hands off her. So when she initiated, I was all in. And now, I was so distracted by the nervous energy, I had to keep double-checking my work to make sure I didn't make mistakes.
"Sir?" Marge stood in the doorway to my office. Light pouring in the large window bathed her in its glow, but she wasn't as angelic as she looked. I'd heard her saying harsh things about Carrie only this morning, and after the way she and Judy were gawking and whispering this weekend, I was beginning to develop a strong distaste for her as a person.
But she was still my employee and for that reason I was forced to interact with her. I looked up from my work and turned to her. "Yeah?"
"I finished the reports for the accountant. I was just thinking about stepping out for lunch. Would you like me to bring you something?" It was a thoughtful gesture, but I knew it would lead to her parking her ass in the chair across from my desk and insisting that we eat together, which I had no interest in doing.
"No thanks," I told her. "I have other plans." My "other plans" included eating the beef jerky I stuffed in my desk drawer the other day and grabbing a soda from the vending machine. I had too much work to do to sit and eat. Snacking was how I survived lately. Besides, if I were eating lunch with any woman, I would want it to be Carrie.
"Oh," she said, her tone suddenly shifting. "You have plans with someone else? Is it that Bennett girl?" And there it was, the real reason she was being nosy and wanting lunch with me. I wondered how long it would be before she brought it up here at work. The way she stared at me over the weekend at the town square was obvious. She wanted to know what was going on.
"No, I'm just planning to work," I told her grumpily and turned back to my computer.
"You sure were getting cozy with her this weekend." Marge was the worst busybody in this town, and sometimes, I wished she'd just do something stupid here at work so I could fire her and not have to listen to her gossiping anymore. When Sam hired her, he made a big mistake. "You know it's probably not good for your reputation, Ryan. She's sort of the town black sheep, and well, with what happened with your wife, you can't really afford to have people talking about you."
Her feigned concern irritated me. There was nothing wrong with Carrie, and I wanted to silence the people who spoke harshly about her.
"I'm helping her out, Marge. Walter had a stroke and he's not back on his feet yet. His daughter is here in town to be with him and help her mother. I wish you and all the other nosy people out there would have an ounce of compassion and even a shred of concern." I glared up at her, and her forehead wrinkled. She looked like she wanted to say something, but Sam walked up behind her and tapped on the door frame.
"Excuse me, Marge…" He squeezed past her, and she turned and walked away without saying anything else, and I knew I'd gotten under her skin. I was the last person who should be starting something, but it was challenging putting up with the way people thought they could treat others.
"Hey, Sam," I grunted, again looking back at my computer screen. The scowl on my face was probably evidence enough of my mood. He plopped into the chair across from me and dropped some manila folders in front of me.
"What was that about?" he asked, crossing one leg over the other. He sat casually and looked relaxed, and I was stiff as a board.
"Oh, just Marge being nosy again. I swear this town is cursed. How anyone in this place ever keeps a secret is beyond me." I rubbed my face and leaned back in my seat.
My own words felt like a vise on my chest. They could very well become a self-fulfilling prophecy if I wasn't careful. Carrie and I had sex right on my kitchen counter, and while there were no cameras to record it or spying eyes to see it happen, just the fact that her father's car was parked in my driveway was enough. The town knew Walter was in no condition to drive, and they'd either start rumors about Helen cheating on Walter with me or they'd figure it out and start talking about Carrie being at my house.
"Yeah, well ignore her. People like to talk, and most of the time, they're just entertaining themselves. There are men like me who don't give a fuck, and those are the ones who matter." Sam sounded like a smart guy, but he'd never been at the receiving end of the gossip mill destroying a reputation.
I changed the subject and got us focused on running numbers and the tax prep that was happening, but my mind was still lingering on the interaction with Carrie. I wondered what she was thinking today and how she was feeling. I also wondered if there really would be a "next time" like she said. I was more than willing to pursue this and see where it went, even though I knew Walter would have his strong opinions.
Carrie was a grown woman and more than capable of making this decision for herself. I knew Walter, and I knew how he felt about his daughter. If she told him she wanted this, he'd be unhappy about it, but he'd support her. Helen was another story, but I'd cross that bridge if I came to it. Right now, all I wanted was a conversation with Carrie to find out if there would even be a next time for us, and if so, what that might mean.