Chapter 9
“Thank you for coming in today,” Febe stated as she held out her hand for the young woman to take.
The woman beamed. Cherish waited at her desk as Febe finished sending the woman on her way. Unexpectedly, Febe crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe to her office. Her thin lips pulled up to one side just barely, a hint of a smile that most people would miss. But not Cherish. She understood the ins and outs of Febe, every nuance, every twitch.
“I take it you like her,” Cherish commented, not moving her gaze from Febe’s face.
“You did well, Cherish. Good job.”
Cherish warmed at the compliment. She always did, especially when Febe’s cool blue eyes turned on her in that intense way, like Cherish was Febe's whole world. But she wasn’t, as much as she wanted to be. Febe had never looked at her like she looked at her late wife, Bernie.
“It was Haylee, actually.” Cherish’s cheeks burned. What was she doing? Normally she would take all of the credit, wanting Febe’s full attention on her always. But this time, she directed it to Haylee? She would never—
“Oh?” Febe straightened up, her gaze shifting from Cherish to Haylee, who had her mouth agape, back to Cherish. She was looking for an answer, imploring, seeking a resolution to the question she hadn’t asked.
Cherish licked her lips, nerves suddenly forming in the back of her throat and making it difficult to speak. Febe dragged in a deep breath, her breasts pushing against her shirt. Cherish had to work hard to drag her gaze upward before moving to look at Haylee. The effect wasn’t the same. The last time Cherish had looked at Haylee like that it had done things to her insides. But this time, with Febe, it didn’t feel the same.
“Haylee’s the one who found her.” Cherish didn’t take her gaze from Haylee, from her dark brown eyes, from the surprise in her slack cheeks. “She found her on some online site, isn’t that right, Haylee?”
“Uh…yeah,” Haylee chimed in, as if finally catching the hint Cherish threw in her direction.
But what was that hint?
Cherish didn’t even know, and she was the one giving it. “Where did you find her?”
“A job site.” Haylee flicked her gaze to Febe before bringing it right back to Cherish.
Why couldn’t they look away from each other?
“What made her stand out to you?” Febe asked.
Haylee swallowed, one more glance at Febe before looking back to Cherish. What was this game they were playing? Haylee pulled her lower lip between her teeth before letting it pop out and answering. “She doesn’t have a lot of experience, I know that, but she has drive.”
“Drive?” Cherish pushed. She wanted to know. She’d liked the woman too from when they’d met, but this had all been Haylee, and Febe deserved to know that Cherish actually had very little to do with finding her.
“Yeah, she uh…she followed up the first interview with a thank you note. Only one to do that.”
Cherish hummed, a smile sliding onto her lips and glitter in her gaze before she focused back on Febe—who was pale. Ashen almost. Her gaze was hard as she stared directly at Cherish, all the warmth from before gone in a flash.
What had Cherish done?
Febe raised an eyebrow, the delicate dark line indicating a question, but Cherish had no idea what the question was. This time, she was left completely on her own, unable to formulate where Febe’s brain had gone. That was a first in decades. Cherish had always been in tune with Febe, no matter what, ever since Febe had dated Stuart. Ever since—
“But her first interview went really well. Did this one go well?” Haylee’s voice brought Cherish out of her panic.
“It did. If you could start the new hire paperwork, I would appreciate it.” Febe was talking to Haylee, but she was still looking directly at Cherish. That same question in her eyes.
But what the hell was the question?
“Yes, Ms. Aarts. I’ll get right on that.”
“Thank you.” Febe nodded her head slightly at Cherish, as if expecting something. But what?
Why was Cherish suddenly so unable to read Febe’s moods, her internal thoughts, the slight changes in her body? Five seconds ago, she had been perfect at it, and now? Cherish didn’t look away until Febe shut the door, and her presence left a void of energy in the room. She managed to turn her chin, to look back at Haylee who was in absolute awe.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Haylee murmured, her voice low as if Febe would overhear them from the other room.
“You’re the one who found her.”
“But you didn’t have to tell Fe—Ms. Aarts—that. You could have taken credit for it.”
Cherish tensed, her shoulders pulling together and her chest tightening. Why had she shifted the credit over to Haylee? She wouldn’t have done that before, so why now? “It’s nothing.”
She tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, because she didn’t want it to be. Cherish needed the comfort and safety of her routines and patterns. This was so far outside them that it would likely cause a panic.
One she didn’t know if she would be able to come back from.
“Cherish?”
“What?” she snapped, a little too sharply. But she didn’t correct herself or apologize. That wouldn’t be her, and the hard personality she’d worked so long to create would shatter in an instant.
“Oh, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cherish murmured, staring down at her desktop. When did that stain from the coffee mug she’d drunk from that morning appear? Cherish snagged a wet wipe from the center drawer in her desk and cleaned it up, tossing the wipe into the trash bin. Her head gave a sharp stab, and she cringed. Out of habit, she reached into her drawer for the pills she always kept in there.
She swallowed two dry.
“You don’t look fine.” Did Haylee’s voice waver? Was she nervous confronting Cherish like this?
How bad a coworker had Cherish been that Haylee would doubt her? Then again, before today, Cherish wouldn’t have thought twice about taking the credit. Clenching her jaw, Cherish pressed two fingers into her temple and closed her eyes against the fluorescent lighting. Why did this migraine seem to come out of nowhere?
“Cherish.” Haylee’s voice was so soft—endearingly sweet.
The warm hand against Cherish’s shoulder startled her. Haylee leaned against the edge of her desk, and when Cherish looked up into her eyes, they were filled with pure concern.
“What’s wrong?” Haylee’s thumb pressed into Cherish’s collar bone and slid along the skin, sending sparks of pleasure through Cherish.
Cherish closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. What was happening to her? For years she had wanted Febe to look at her like that. To touch her like this. To sit next to her on the desk and talk, really talk, not about work but about life. And now it was Haylee doing it?
“What really interested you about her?”
“About who?” Haylee choked.
Cherish swallowed hard and leaned back in her chair, breaking contact with Haylee’s touch. With that small amount of distance between them, she was far more on her feet and ready for this conversation. “About the woman Febe just hired.”
“Oh.” Haylee’s cheeks reddened. “She’s a military brat, so she works with the military often.”
Nodding, Cherish ran her clammy palms against her thighs. When had that happened? And why? She searched Haylee’s face for any sign of worry or fear, but she only found honesty. “Are you trying to build your empire without Ms. Aarts knowing?”
“No.” Haylee shook her head. “She’s a good fit to work here.”
“She is, but I’m sure there are a lot of other candidates out there. So why her?”
“Why not?” Haylee’s voice got louder. “Why are you pushing this so much?”
“Because I want to know.” Did she? Or was it a feeble excuse not to have to think about the echoing ghost of Haylee’s fingers against her skin, walking along her flesh. “Why are you so dead set on making veterans a priority here? We’ve never done that before.”
“Never doesn’t mean you won’t.”
“It doesn’t,” Cherish agreed, because what else was she supposed to say? It wasn’t that Febe was opposed to the idea, but she didn’t feel as though Haylee had enough passion to really stick it through. And with her work history—Haylee wasn’t someone who committed long term to anything. Cherish had to remind herself of that. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew it was something she needed to pay close attention to. “So what are you doing bringing her in here?”
“She’s a good fit for us.”
Us?
“She works hard, and I like her spunk. Febe does, too.”
“Ms. Aarts,” Cherish corrected automatically. “If you want Ms. Aarts to pay attention to your idea to focus on veterans, then you need to show her why you care. Because from where I’m sitting, I still don’t understand why.”
“I do care.” Haylee pulled that lip between her teeth again.
Cherish wanted to hold her hand, soothe the ruffled feathers she knew she had just caused, but she held still. She put up the cold, icy front she knew she needed to protect herself, and she looked Haylee directly in the eye. But that hard exterior didn’t quite mask the softness of her insides, not when Haylee looked so crestfallen.
“My brother’s best friend was in the military. I remember when he went in right after high school—I wrote him letters every week when he was in basic. I even baked him cookies and mailed them.”
“Some would call that nothing more than a mere crush.” Cherish reached for the mouse to her computer and flicked it so the screen would come alive again. She didn’t have time to sit and listen to the story Haylee wove. She needed facts and passion, that was it. Wasn’t it?
“Yeah, it wasn’t a crush. I’m firmly in the women-only camp.” Haylee let out a loud chuckle. “But Jackson thought it was a crush for a while there.”
“Jackson is your brother, right?” Cherish asked, clarifying who the players in the story were.
“Yep.” Haylee leaned back on the edge of the desk, her thigh brushing Cherish’s arm. Again, a shiver of pleasure rushed through Cherish’s body, settling in the pit of her stomach. That had to stop. Immediately.
“A crush isn’t going to sway Ms. Aarts in her decision.”
“I know it won’t. And it wasn’t a crush,” Haylee insisted. She sighed heavily. “Do you think she’ll ever listen to me? I mean like she listens to you, because ultimately, I’m not entirely sure that Ms. Aarts listens to anyone.”
That was true. Well, as true as Cherish knew. She’d tried for years to tell Febe that she needed to get her own individual therapist, that she should take some time off to deal with her grief and struggles. But Febe had always rolled her eyes and ignored the comment like Cherish hadn’t said the words out loud. That had stung. Every time. Because all Cherish wanted was the best for Febe. She wanted her not to be hurting, and that hint of a smile that day had been that. Hadn’t it?
“Well, she does listen to you.”
“What?” Cherish blinked twice before looking up.
“Ms. Aarts. She listens to you.” Haylee had her lip between her teeth again.
The sharp pang was bad in Cherish’s skull, threatening to take over what little work she had managed to get done so far that day and ruin the rest of it. She would be up half the night just making up for it so they could keep up tomorrow. “She doesn’t listen to me.”
“You literally just told her that the interview was my idea and she listened to that.”
“I told her the truth.” Why was Cherish so damn defensive?
“Right. Jackson’s friend died.”
“What?” Cherish frowned, a line creasing in the center of her forehead. Had she missed part of the conversation? They were jumping all over the place.
“He died two months into his first tour.” Haylee swallowed hard, her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Her eyes filled with tears.
On impulse, Cherish reached over and covered Haylee’s hands. Her skin was so warm, the hard lines of her fingers sharp in comparison. Cherish ran her thumb along the top of Haylee’s hand, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Was she going to confess that Jackson had died too?
“He wasn’t the only person who died, or who came back changed. So many people were affected.” Haylee’s face shifted, as though Cherish could see her intentionally separating herself, her own emotions and experiences from the conversation.
“Haylee—”
Febe’s office door opened sharply. “Cherish. My office, now.”
Caught between a rock and a hard place, Cherish nodded at Febe sharply. “I’ll be right there.”
Febe disappeared into her sanctuary, and when Cherish looked back up at Haylee, the moment was gone. She removed her hand begrudgingly and put it in her own lap. She squinted against the brightness of the lights and swallowed down the nausea rising in her belly. She’d never let anyone know how bad the migraines had gotten.
“You better go,” Haylee mumbled before she stood and started back toward her desk.
Cherish reached out and snagged her hand, stopping her. She looked up, their gazes locking again. Her mouth opened, but she had no idea what to say. I’m sorry? PTSD? So many people have been through that, more than we can count? You’re not alone?
But words failed her.
Miserably.
Haylee sniffled and rubbed her hand under her nose. She turned her back, and her feet dragged on the short carpet as she went, the sound stark in Cherish’s ears.
She’d missed something.
Cherish hadn’t done something right, and the knowledge of that plunged into her heart like a knife, twisting hard before stabbing in again. First, she failed Febe, and now Haylee? She wasn’t sure she could come back from this.
“Cherish!” Febe’s voice carried into the office suite.
Right.
That was the woman Cherish had to deal with immediately. She was the one who was Cherish’s priority. She always had been. Everyone suffered loss, but nothing compared to what Febe had been through. Nothing.
“I’m coming,” Cherish called as she stood up, dragging her gaze from Haylee’s retreating form. If only she could stop everyone from hurting.