Chapter 6
I picked at the grass in front of me, searching for the longest, softest blade while trying to ignore the prickly ones biting at my bare ankles and calves beneath me.
I had stupidly forgotten to bring a blanket or even a chair.
Going back to the apartment to retrieve a blanket sounded like too much work, especially in this heat.
And, of course, every bench and picnic table in the square block that Shipsvold called a park was either occupied or nowhere near the shade.
So here I was, pretending to enjoy nature at midday on a sweltering July day.
Suddenly a voice—the last one I wanted to hear—shattered the blissful peace and humming of nature.“Roxanne. Where have you been all summer? I never see you in the offices.”
I glanced up briefly, and Jeff was staring down at me with hands on his hips.
“Why do you care?” I snapped.
The silence was thick as I refused to meet his eyes, looking instead at his feet, which shuffled a bit.
“I do care. Because we’re supposed to be working together, but you’re apparently taking an extended vacation.”
“I’m not!” I protested, seething. “Have I not been as responsive as usual over email and text?”
He ignored my question, instead probing further, “Why haven’t you come into the new office? Or even the resort office?”
Why would he care? “It’s called working from home, Jeffrey. You should try it. It wouldn’t kill you to loosen that tie once in a while.”
His eyes widened slightly. Honestly, I was as shocked as he was. I was the sort of person who always thought of the best comebacks long, long after a conversation was over.
He cleared his throat. “My work attire is just fine. But thank you for noticing.”
I felt my face heat up even more than before. “I didn’t—”
“Do you want some ice water?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question, Roxanne.” He held out a water bottle that was still sealed.
I gripped the bottle as my fingertips briefly brushed the side of his hand, causing a tiny shiver that was totally at odds with the heat today. “Thank you,” I said softly, unsure what was going on.
“Where’s your laptop?” he demanded after watching me take a long drink.
“What?”
“You said you’re working from home.”
“Oh, I do work from home often. But I’m not home. I don’t live in the park, Jeffrey.”
“So you’re on vacation?”
I let out a sigh of exasperation. “No, I’m just taking a break. Not that it’s any of your business, but my apartment’s A/C isn’t working. It’s so unbearably hot and humid in there that I had to get out of there.”
“Your apartment is even warmer than it is out here?”
“Believe it or not, yes.” I sighed, uncrossing my stiff legs in front of me. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this. You’ll probably try to find a way to use it against me.”
His brows furrowed as he shook his head slowly.
If I didn’t know him better, I’d almost think he was hurt by my remark.
But I did know him, and there was no way he’d be hurt by anything I said.
One had to care a little before they could be hurt.
One had to have feelings before they could be hurt.
I shook my head, trying to clear the awful thoughts from my mind.
I was being uncharitable, and it didn’t feel right.
Even to Jeff. Even if he deserved it. I bit my lip before finally saying, “ Sorry, my filter sometimes malfunctions.” I flashed a half-smile because for some reason, it seemed important to remind him that I was actually a nice person.
“I live across that street over there. What about you? What are you doing here?” I resisted the urge to say, Extended vacation?
“I live on that block,” he said, pointing to the large apartment complex kitty-corner from my building. “I did go into my office at the resort today, but it was distracting because everyone around me was obsessing over wedding decorations for the resort. Some rockstar is getting married tomorrow.”
I laughed. “I’m aware. Sam Solstice is not just ‘some rockstar.’ His wedding is the biggest event of the year so far. I’ve spent months helping to coordinate with their wedding planner.”
He gave me a blank look. “Oh. Right, you’re the event planner. I guess I assumed you’d given up those duties to work on Hazel’s projects.”
“No, at least not yet.”
“So you’ve been quite busy after all.”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not falling for that.”
I shook my head and looked away. “Are we done here then?”
After a long silence, I finally resumed eye contact. His brows were lowered as though he were conflicted. “Are you all right, Roxanne?”
“Just peachy, Jeffrey.”
“You just seem … less peachy than usual.”
I opened my mouth to dispute his observation, but then it fell shut. He was right, after all. What was the point of denying it? “Well, I’m not a fan of ninety-five-degree weather. Plus, I’m a human. Sometimes I have bad days..”
“Sorry to hear it,” he said in a hesitant tone I’d rarely heard from him. “Do you—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I didn’t even want to think about the call that had stolen the joy from this day.
I’d woken up to quite a few messages from CastGamer55 since I’d fallen asleep early last night.
The wedding planning tasks, on top of my other work, had been exhausting lately, and I’d taken advantage of the cool breeze through my window to get some sleep during this midsummer heat wave.
The messages from CastGamer55—Danny, I reminded myself—had been fairly brief, but it felt good to be missed. I’d started the morning with a smile.
And then my parents called.
Feeling agitated as usual after talking to them, I’d tried to take an early nap after that—one of my few successful forms of self-soothing—but it was already so hot at 10 a.m. that I couldn’t sleep. And then off to the park I went. At least there was some wind, even if it was a warm wind.
He was still just standing there with his hands in his pockets.
I exhaled slowly. “You know, I had a difficult phone call first thing, and my apartment was unbearably hot. Topping off a really busy week, honestly. I work a lot, you know, even though you don’t see me in the office,” I added, my tone defensive though I tried to be casual.
He ignored most of what I said, asking instead about the one thing I definitely didn’t want to explain. “A difficult work call?”
“No. It wasn’t work.” He was still looking at me as though expecting more, so I conceded. “Fine, it was family.”
He nodded and spoke quietly. “Ah. That kind of call can definitely ruin a person’s day.”
My eyes flew up to meet his as I drew in a breath sharply. “Are you actually empathizing with me?”
Whatever human-like emotion I saw in his eyes quickly vanished, replaced by a hard expression.
OK, I guess I was rude, but so was he, most of the time.
Why on earth was I telling him anything anyway? There was no purpose. I didn’t need to talk to people just for the sake of talking—I wasn’t my mother.
It was perfectly fine to be shy, to minimize talking to others, to just … be me .
You know you’ll never believe that.
Why couldn’t I be someone else? A normal person who doesn’t deal with the pain of social anxiety every day of their life? Someone who doesn’t ruminate on every interaction? Why?
I took a deep breath, trying to banish the thoughts threatening to spiral into an anxiety attack.
Yet I felt a twinge of shame. More than a twinge. I clenched my fists. Wasn’t I old enough to stop worrying what my parents thought? But this was a familiar feeling after talking to my mom, or sometimes even my dad.
“I’ll just leave you alone,” said a voice that sounded far away.
I spoke without thinking, my voice quiet as I looked at a distant oak tree across the lush lawn.
“My parents—well, mainly my mom—asked if I’d booked my flight for Thanksgiving yet, but I probably won’t be traveling because there’s so much to do to meet Hazel’s goal of opening the new center by the New Year. And, well … my mom didn’t like that.”
I left out the part about how both my parents asked whether I was dating anyone or making friends here yet …
and the subsequent lecture about being more outgoing and not wanting to end up alone.
Despite how many times we’d had those kind of talks, they crushed me every single time.
I didn’t even know why I was explaining anything at all to him, but I definitely wasn’t going to go even further than I had.
He remained silent for a long moment and then shifted on his feet. “Believe it or not, I can sympathize.”
I aimed my eyes directly at his, but I couldn’t read him. “You can?”
“Not the Thanksgiving thing, but the unnecessary drama, guilt … the works.”
I nodded slowly, searching his face but finding only a tiny muscle in his cheek flexing. “Thanks, Jeff.”
I wouldn’t beg him to say more. If he wanted to, he would. And why would he? We weren’t friends.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I do need to get back soon. I’m planning to email you the new design brief from Sanders along with my notes this afternoon. Can you review it this evening?”
I rubbed my neck, which was getting sore, and finally realized I was still sitting in the grass, alternating between looking up at him and gazing at our surroundings. I stood slowly and looked up at him, but I noticed his eyes were elsewhere.
Looking at my legs?
He couldn’t be checking me out.
He wouldn’t …
Oh .
I was a mess. Literally.
“Oops.” Most likely flushing from head to toe, I bent down to wipe off the small pieces of dirt and grass stuck to my legs. “I forgot to bring a chair or blanket.”
Great, now I look like a total space cadet. I should’ve just said I enjoyed connecting physically with the earth.
As if that sounded better.
You are hopeless, Roxy.
I frowned as our eyes met. “Uh, I …” Crap, what was the question again? Oh! The brief. “I can review it today, sure.”
He nodded once and opened his mouth to reply.
“Wait, no. I can’t!” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m busy tonight.”
Jeff’s eyebrows were furrowed. “This is important, Roxanne. We told Jill that—”
Glaring at him, I pasted on a tight smile. “I know that. But you can’t expect me to drop my plans.”
“What plans?”
“That’s none of your business!” I wasn’t about to tell him that I wanted to clear my evening so I could catch up with my fan forum buddy.
Since we hadn’t talked last night, I needed my CastGamer55 fix, as stupid as it sounded.
Jeff would probably burst into condescending laughter—if he were capable of laughing, that is. I hadn’t even seen him smile before.
His eyes narrowed as he studied my posture, with my hands on my hips. “Fine. Can you send your notes by tomorrow, say early afternoon?”
“Hmm…” I placed my index finger on my chin, pretending to think for a long moment just to annoy him. “Yes, that should work.”
“Fine.” His voice sounded like a hiss as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ll still fulfill my part and send you the document later this afternoon.”
“OK.” I chewed on one side of my lip. Did I cross a line? I deliberately unclenched my hands, which were getting even sweatier than the rest of me. “Well, I—”
“We’ll speak tomorrow,” he said curtly with a brief nod before abruptly turning and walking away.
I stood with my lips slightly parted, unsure if I should call out goodbye.
Unsure why … something felt off.
Unsure why I felt a whisper of disappointment.