Chapter 23 #2
Whatever. I shouldn’t be concerning myself with stupid shit like this.
I’m a grown woman. I’m getting myself tangled up in something I have zero business getting gnarled in.
I’m relieved I’ve gotten out of it before things got messy.
I don’t do messy. I’ve done messy my whole life. I’m done with messy.
I open my can of Perrier and continue eating my sushi with Teeny occupied upstairs.
I wait it out a few more minutes until I start to grow curious.
Who could have called with such a demanding request that it interrupted our dinner?
I stand from my seat and follow the sounds of rustling.
I finally find her in one of the four upstairs rooms. It’s Everett’s office with a large mahogany desk and an expansive computer setup that scares me just looking at it.
There’s a picture of Teeny in a silver rectangular frame sitting on the desk, all bright and shiny, and she’s hunched over one of the drawers, rifling through a stack of papers.
“What are you looking for?”
She huffs. “Andrew said he left his credit card here and that it should be in Everett’s desk.”
My body freezes at the sound of Andrew’s name. “Oh,” I manage to squeeze through my lips.
“I tried calling Everett, but the hotel he’s staying at has really spotty service.
His phone goes straight to voicemail.” She stands upright and huffs, her eyes roaming over the room in the hopes that it might be somewhere else.
“I’m just going to have to tell him to ask Everett about it when he gets back.
” She pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and starts tapping away at her phone.
When she’s done, she smiles at me. “Sorry about that.”
I shrug, trying to brush off the ominous presence of Andrew with nonchalance. “It’s fine.”
We both start walking down the stairs and back into the dining room. We pick up where we left off, finishing the last of the tuna roll and edamame. Teeny takes another look at her phone and frowns.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers, her voice a little distracted. “I was telling Andrew not to come over because I can’t find his card, but it looks like he’s already on his way. He’s not answering my texts.”
My throat dries. “Here? He’s coming here?”
She nods at her phone screen. “Whatever, it’s his fault for leaving his card just lying around everywhere.”
I set down my chopsticks with shaky hands, and one of them flings across the table, splattering splotches of soy sauce along the rich oak table. “Oh my god,” I gasp. “I’m so sorry.” I rush to wipe away the dark stains, my hands remaining fidgety.
Teeny stands and helps me. “It’s okay,” she assures.
“You know,” I start, reaching for my purse. “I just realized I have to—” My measly excuse to leave is interrupted by a sharp knock at her door. I feel my ears start to grow hot, and my heart rate kicks up several notches.
Teeny huffs a frustrated sigh, completely oblivious to the panic coursing through me. “That’s probably Andrew.”
I watch her get up from the seat, realizing it’s too late to make a sneaky exit.
I have to face the music. Andrew’s here, most likely to seek me out, and I have to continue the avoidant, aloof facade I carried through our text conversation.
I slip on the mask of someone who doesn’t even have two shits to give and act as if my dinner is the center of my attention.
“I told you,” Teeny says as I hear two sets of footsteps enter the dining area. “I couldn’t find it. You can go look if you want, but I think Everett might have put it somewhere safe. He’ll probably be able to tell you where it is.”
Against my better judgment, I look up, only to be met by Andrew’s stern glare. He looks at me like he wants to challenge me to something. And I can bet my still-full can of Perrier it isn’t to a thumb war or fencing duel.
“Grace,” he calls, his voice flat and steady.
I tilt my head to the side, attempting to show as much apathy as possible. “Hi, Andrew.”
“Do you mind if I stay and wait for Everett to call back?” His question is directed at Teeny, but his fiery gaze is pointed at me.
“Sure,” Teeny answers. “Did you already eat?”
“Yeah. The vending machine at work had a pretty good selection of chips.” The spiteful sarcasm in his voice is just subtle enough for me to pick up.
“You were working? On a Saturday?”
He finally tears his eyes away from me and looks at his sister. “Yeah, I left when I realized I couldn’t find my card. My boss is probably going to be pissed.”
His lie sounds so believable, I wonder if it’s a lie at all. Maybe he did leave his credit card here, and all of this is just a silly coincidence.
“I’ll grab another plate,” Teeny offers.
Teeny stands up from her chair and walks off to the kitchen leaving me and Andrew alone. He stalks toward me and sits in the seat next to mine, his glower making me squirm.
“Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you,” I say meekly. I sound frightened, but everything inside me is growing hot and heady. I swipe my finger at a spot of soy sauce I missed, trying to avoid his gaze but it’s pointless. His eyes feel like laser beams and the heat from it is almost unbearable.
“Really? Is that why you’re telling me to leave you be?”
“Andrew,” I plead, feeling too flustered. “I don’t want to talk about it here. Teeny might hear us.”
“Fine. Let’s go to your place so we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too. Fucking. Bad,” he argues. He waits a beat for me to respond, but I try my best to ignore him, failing when I catch his eyes boring daggers into me. “Grace, did I do something wrong? Was it something I did at lunch?”
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to sound as flippant as possible.
I return my attention back to my dinner.
“Maybe you should ask your friend if you did something at lunch that might have upset me.” I say friend with a little more disdain than I intended to, but I don’t care anymore.
There’s no point in hiding things anymore.
“So, you’re mad about Olive.”
I stay quiet. It’s hard to fight back and deny it when the air around us is growing thick and taut. I feel like my breaths are going in and out of me in short gasps rather than at a steady pace. I feel like he’s hovering over me, piercing me with his sharp eyes to force the truth out of me.
Teeny returns with the extra plate and a bright smile, completely oblivious to the tension coiling around us.
“Here,” she announces, placing a ceramic plate in front of Andrew. “We have a few rolls left, and an extra cup of miso soup. You want a beer?”
“Sure.” He looks uncomfortable as he takes the plate from Teeny. I can see his arm flex when his hand fists on the table. His jaw tics as he takes one last glance at me. A warning, it seems. Or a promise that we’re going to have this conversation whether I like it or not.
I need to leave. This is getting too weird and uncomfortable. I can’t sit through the rest of our dinner like this. With Andrew’s harsh demeanor and the heat between us I can barely ignore.
“Hey, I’m going to head out,” I abruptly announce.
“Already?” Teeny asks with a pout.
“Yeah. I have to feed Buster.” I collect some of my trash, piling it in the plastic bag in haste.
“Just leave it,” she assures. “I’ll clean it up when I’m done.”
My lips pull tight into an uncomfortable smile, and I catch Andrew watching me as I continue to tidy up despite Teeny’s instruction to leave it be.
I hook my purse over my shoulder and manage to avoid looking at Andrew before walking out of the dining room.
I beeline for the exit with Teeny at my tail, leaving dust in my wake as I leave the room where I felt like I’d been holding my breath.
“Get home safe,” she instructs. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.”
A rush of fresh air fills my lungs, replacing the burn from when I felt like the presence of Andrew was going to suffocate me. I shake off the feeling that what happened inside was more than my words coming to bite me in the ass.
Whatever it was, it’s over. Andrew and I aren’t friends. And he needs to know that sooner rather than later.