Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
ANDERS
With permission granted last night, I set my alarm for early this morning so my plan could be executed smoothly, if I was lucky. God, it felt good. I had a purpose today. A direction. A hole inside me that could be filled. Nerves made my hands jittery, but anticipation was part of it too.
When my alarm went off at six, I jumped out of bed for a quick shower.
Last night, Emil had given me the alarm code so I could let myself in, and that’s what I did by six-thirty.
First up was taking the shoes he’d left outside his door, along with the shoe-shine kit he’d admitted was in his closet but had never been used.
I took the wooden box and moved into the kitchen.
The smell of wax filled the room from the buff-and-shine.
I’d removed the accumulated dust and double-checked the stitches to ensure they were free from any debris.
When I was finished, they looked brand new.
The sense of satisfaction I felt at checking off the first task on my list eased some of the tension in my chest.
I returned the shoes to their original spot outside Emil’s bedroom door. There was no sound, so I assumed he’d decided to sleep in this morning. We normally started our day around seven in the cottage, but not today. Today, he was giving me time. The tightness loosened a little more.
Next up was to prepare the coffee to be started later and to make his breakfast. After a quick rummage in the cupboards, I found a pitcher and some plates.
Over the last few weeks, he’d mentioned he didn’t like a heavy breakfast. Rather than a full one, I created a fruit plate with a bit of cheese and nuts for crunch.
He didn’t know, but I’d been studying his coffee habits.
He used an absurd amount of half-and-half and way too much sugar—three yellow packets and half a teaspoon of regular sugar.
Everything was laid out and ready to go at the kitchen table.
When he got up, all I’d need to do was bring the little pitcher filled with cream to the table.
He might get annoyed that his sister lived out her home-decorating fantasies at his house, but I appreciated her.
It would have been nice to have some fresh flowers on the table, but that would have to wait for another day.
I went back down the hall to check his door for noises, and this time, I heard him stirring on the other side.
“Emil?” I said as I gently rapped on the door.
When Emil opened the door, I was not prepared for the sight of him in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely and low on his hips.
His chest was smooth with just a hint of hair between his pecs.
I knew he went to the gym fairly regularly, but, oh my goodness, I hadn’t been prepared for the results.
His stomach wasn’t a full six-pack, but there was definition to appreciate. “Uh…um…”
“Good morning,” Emil rasped. His voice was still thick with sleep. He must have been in the shower when I checked earlier because water dripped from his dark hair and made trails along his shoulders and chest.
“Yeah, uh, g-g-good morning.” For whatever reason, my brain had ceased to function. The ability to look anywhere but at Emil had fled with it. It was a chore, but I forced myself to take a steadying breath before I tried speaking again. “Am I okay to start the coffee now?”
“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be out.”
With my answering nod, Emil disappeared back into his bedroom, and I remembered to breathe again.
Rather than let myself become distracted by the encounter, I returned to the kitchen to lay out the food and start the coffeemaker.
With ten seconds to spare, Emil emerged from the hallway and slid into the space I’d set for him at the table.
He immediately took a sip of coffee before setting the mug down again.
He glanced around, and a frown took over his face.
Oh no.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
“What’s wrong with it? I can correct it. Let me fix it. Please.” My words came out in a rush and tumbled over each other. My first morning, and I’d already messed it up. My eyes darted around the table looking for my error, but nothing jumped out as obviously incorrect.
“Your plate? Your cup? They’re missing.” Emil gestured to the spot next to him. “Where’s your breakfast?”
“I…I…uh…I thought you’d like a quiet breakfast. A place to relax before the day starts.
While you ate, I was going to tidy your room.
Assuming, of course, you’re okay with that.
” The tightness in my chest was back again in full force.
The screws that held the bands were being twisted, and my lungs couldn’t get a proper, deep breath.
“Anders, sit down.” He’d said the words politely, but there was no mistaking the statement for anything but an order.
Obediently, I sat at the table where he’d indicated.
I kept my hands in my lap so he couldn’t see them.
This was the part I hated. The correction.
No one was perfect. I tried so hard, and when I fell short, I knew correction was needed, but it hurt.
It hurt to hear that I wasn’t good enough or hadn’t tried hard enough.
The sting of Emil’s disappointment hit me hard.
“My coffee tastes better than when I make it for myself.” I waited for the but I knew was coming. “But…” And there it was. “You’ll sit at the table too.”
Rory
How can you send me a pic like that so late?!?
What does that have to do with anything?
Oh, ha ha, Mr. I Got Jokes. You know Daddy makes me put my phone away by midnight, and you sent it at exactly eleven fifty-eight.
Your bedtime isn’t on me. I gave you two minutes.
Oh, two whole minutes.
Also…OMFG, what is going on in that pic?
Out to dinner, walked it off, and thought you’d like the sunset.
The sunset? Yeah, okay, it’s nice.
Your boss is kinda doing something there.
Yeah, the person who took the pic thought he was doing us a favor.
He thought we were together.
Are you?
…
***
No, we’re not. I know my league, and he’s out of it.
Also, do you remember the part about just breaking up?
Still suspended from my job?
Still technically homeless?
So there are a few issues to iron out.
No one is out of your league. You’re effing amazing.
I bet you say that to all the boys.
“Anders, you look amazing,” Lacey declared when she stepped into the cottage. I rushed forward to take the banker’s box of files from her, but that didn’t stop me from doing a little peacocking.
“Aren’t you the sweetest one?” I answered. I plopped the box on the table and swept her up in a bear hug. Her feet came off the ground when I gave her a twirl.
“This isn’t the worst place to hide out in,” she said with a grin as she took in the workspace. “You stay out here?”
“Yeah, the main work area is shared workspace, but there’s a little guest suite set up down the hall with a private bathroom for anyone staying over with longer projects.” I felt oddly protective of my tiny temporary home.
“I thought you were suspended?” Lacey’s question hung in the air while I moved to get out my laptop.
“I am from John’s firm, but not Mr. Magnuson’s. He gave me a temp position there while they do the investigation.” I paused before I added the next part. I knew I’d regret the question, but it was like a car crash you had to look at on the highway.
“That explains why I still see your name in the files occasionally,” Lacey said with a shrug.
What I really wanted to know still hadn’t been asked, but the curiosity would eat at me until I finally got an answer.
“Has he said anything about me?”
Lacey’s side-eye told me everything I needed to know. She braced herself on both sides of the banker’s box and took several deep breaths.
“I guess that answers that question.”
“He’s had a lot of things to say about you.”
“Like what?”
“Like how he discovered you were stealing money before, and he fixed it so nobody would know because he wanted to protect you.”
Lacey looked absolutely tortured admitting that. Her eyebrows knit together, and I knew in my bones there was more she wasn’t saying.
“What else did he say?”
“What’s the point of this?” she asked. “It’s not going to change anything. What he said or didn’t say doesn’t change that an investigation is happening. And you being out here tells me where Mr. Magnuson is landing on this.”
“It’s that bad?” I took a deep breath and gave her my full attention. “What else did he say?”
I stared at her with my best tough-guy impersonation. I don’t think she was intimidated, but I did get another sigh before she continued, “A couple of months ago, remember when everyone was getting reprimanded for being in the systems when they weren’t supposed to be?”
“Yeah?”
“John told everyone that was you. That you were the one who went to HR saying it was other people. That you were setting them up to cover your tracks.”
Lacey didn’t look any more relieved after saying it. And she wouldn’t look at me, and I doubted the ceiling or the baseboards were truly that interesting.
“I know there’s more.”
“Seriously, what is the point of this?” she asked. “It’s not going to change anything. Why are you torturing yourself like this?”
“It must be horrible then.”
“John’s a really convincing liar. They bought it. And they’re all pretty pissed that you’re only suspended and not fired.”
“They believe him.” I tried to stay calm and measured, but my heart was breaking.
How could they believe that about me? I’d organized birthday parties and baby showers.
I’d made sure the office Secret Santa and birthday potlucks happened, which were just me baking a cake and bringing lunch.
I covered phones, stayed late, and offered rides.
“But not you?”
“I know what a piece of shit that asshole is,” Lacey snapped. “I wouldn’t trust a fucking word out of his mouth.”