37. Rosy #2
Tilly confirms our order, then strides back to the kitchen. And I’m left with Max, on our lunch not a date. His attention feels almost physical against my skin, and I clench my hands in my lap, a poor attempt to distract myself.
“So, how’s your day going?” I ask, hoping conversation will make this less awkward. When I glance over at him, he’s relaxed in his chair, his leg sliding out and nudging against mine.
“It’s manic as always. There’s always pressure to ensure we hit the deadline in time.
Everyone wants homes built before you can blink, but thankfully, I’m not management, so that stress is not mine to deal with.
” He shrugs with a roguish smile, as if the world's cares and worries just slide straight off him.
What I would give to have that ability, to just shrug something away if I didn’t want it to bother me. Is that how he managed to get over our conversation so easily? Because even now, I can still feel the bruising flicker inside me.
“What about you? You seemed a little stressed when I arrived,” he points out, a frown puckering his face.
Not wanting to bore him, I wave it off. “No, it was just a busy morning. Some mix-ups, but that’s just my job.”
“Did you think any more about talking to Noah, seeing if he has any ideas for you doing the animal job full time?”
I’m saved from answering as Tilly arrives at our table, a tray balanced in her arms. Placing each of our orders in front of us, she adds Max’s drink in front of him and a to-go bag.
“Enjoy.” She winks, then retreats to serve another customer.
“Fuuuuck, this smells unreal,” Max hums, then scoops up his sandwich and takes a bite, not even stopping to check if it’s cool enough to eat. “Tastes even better too. I need to come here again.” His words are slightly muffled around the food he’s got in his mouth.
Smiling, I pick up my cutlery and make a start on my own. I love coming here when I can, and having Max’s company makes it even more perfect.
We finish our sandwiches with easy conversation flowing between us. He tells me more about the work he does day-to-day on site and about the people he works with. In return I try to tell him about the less mundane parts of my job…not that there’s much.
As we leave the cafe, Max walks me the short distance to the office.
“Honestly, you don’t need to. You’ll be late to work,” I offer, feeling guilty over the idea of him getting into trouble for me.
“No, I won’t. You don’t need to worry, honeybee. I’m the boss’ favourite.” He winks as we walk shoulder-to-shoulder.
Laughing as he pushes open the office entrance door, I step through and feel him follow in.
“Rosemary.” Peter’s sharp tone has all humour draining from my body. “You’ve been gone for hours. Each time I’ve come out to find you, you’re still not here.”
“I…I had a meeting for Julia, then I went for lunch. Peter, I’m so—”
“Julia had no idea where you were. No one did,” he interrupts, and the air is sucked from my lungs.
She said that?
“Ah, that was my fault. Rosy got back from her meeting, and I took her straight out for lunch,” Max intercedes behind me. His words are light, but as his hand lands on my shoulder, tension thrums from him into me.
“She’s my employee. She reports to me, not you.”
Max steps around me, placing himself between Peter and me. “She’s a person, not a belonging. As I said, the fault is mine, not Rosy’s.”
Peter’s eyes turn hard at my name, but he refuses to look at Max, his dismissal coming across loud and clear. “If you wish to avoid a warning, then I suggest you ask your acquaintance to leave, Rosemary.”
Max’s eyes widen, then narrow into slits filled with contempt.
But I’m frozen, unable to locate the words to deal with the situation. I know I need to de-escalate it, to put the proverbial fire out so I don’t lose my job…but there’s a part of me that isn’t used to having someone fight for me like this. Someone who cares how I’m treated.
After Mum died, the time I did have with my dad is hazy, but I remember needing to make myself small, quiet…
unnoticeable. He didn’t want me there; he was hurting and in pain, and I couldn’t make that worse for him.
Nanna helped soothe a lot of that, but I was still always aware that I couldn’t make things too much for her.
I needed her to want to keep me. It’s left me with this ever-present fear of people walking away.
In all my life so far, the only person who didn’t do that was Nanna, and now that she’s no longer here, the world is a much scarier place.
I’m constantly fighting that fear, and I push so much of my energy into making sure I don’t upset people. It’s exhausting to juggle my own selfish needs with everyone else’s.
Having Max here doing that for me, it’s both everything and too much at the same time.
“You best watch how you talk to your employees, Peter. I don’t tolerate bullying.”
“Max,” I snap, unable to cope with the vibrating tension filling the air, suffocating me on top of the threat Peter made. “Please, just leave. Everything’s fine, but you need to go.”
He glances at me, and I can still feel his anger, but as his gaze darts across my face, concern seeps into his features too.
“Please, Max?” I try to make it assertive, but my voice betrays me with a choked breath.
His mouth pinches, disagreement at my request evident, but as he spins to leave, some of the strain leaves me. My shoulders slump further as the door slams shut behind him.
A throat clearing reverses all of that, though, and my palms fist clammily at my sides.
“I’m so sorry about that, Peter. I should’ve checked in with you, and that’s on me. I just didn’t realise, and Max can be…” I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence, because I’ve never seen Max like that. Rage isn’t something I’ve witnessed from him before.
“You’re paid to be here to work, Rosemary.
Don’t make me have to remind you of that again, and see to it he doesn’t return.
He’s not welcome to talk to me or anyone else here like that.
” Outwardly, he’s a lot calmer than Max.
There’s no heated anger or obvious rage displayed in his body language, but somehow that makes it worse.
My body can feel it, like he’s a wolf ready to punish the runt for stepping out of line.
“Yes, Peter,” I croak. It's weak and fragile, and in that moment, I loathe myself for being so cowardly.
He steps towards me, and I hold my breath, bracing for…something.
A too-warm hand lands on my shoulder, the heat searing through the fabric of my shirt. “Good. I’m just looking out for you and all my employees. On this occasion, I won't give you a warning.”
His hand squeezes, then he pulls away and walks back to his office. Leaning heavily on my desk, my eyes close as I let out a shaky breath. But his touch lingers, and it doesn’t provide comfort like touch from any of the guys does.
Exhaling again, I open my eyes and lock gazes with Brett. He smirks in my direction, tutting his pointer finger at me before he pushes off the wall and heads back down the hallway.