Chapter 3
“Hello, Jane.”
Jane swallowed the mouthful of peanut butter sandwich and placed her napkin over the other half before smiling at the woman who had pinned her skirt together. “Hi there.”
“How’s the new job going?”
“Good, I think,” Jane said. “It’s only my second day, though.”
“I’m sure you’re doing very well. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch,” the woman replied.
“That’s okay,” Jane said. “I was just having a quick bite to eat at my desk. It’s busy today.”
The woman placed the potted plant she was holding onto Jane’s desk. “I brought you this as a ‘welcome to the thirty-seventh floor’ gift.”
“Thank you so much. It’s beautiful,” Jane replied.
“Ms. Smith, I need that letter!”
She jumped up at Mr. Dawson’s voice and snatched the letter from the printer. “Please excuse me.”
She hurried into his office and placed the letter on his desk, chewing worriedly at her bottom lip as he scanned it. He signed it and handed it back to her.
“It looks good. Can you add it to the package for the lawyer and run it over to them? Their office is about three blocks away on 105th.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson.”
“Also, stop at the deli on the corner and pick me up some lunch. Thai soup, turkey sandwich with no cranberry and extra mayo.”
“Of course. Do you have a tab there or…”
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to buy it for him and expense it.
“Use the petty cash in the bottom drawer of your desk. Remember to put the receipt in.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson.”
He finally glanced up at her. “When you’re back, I’ll need you to finish the document for… Amy? What can I do for you?”
Jane’s eyes widened as she turned and stared speechlessly at the woman who had saved her the day of the interview.
“Hey, Luke. Just popped by to say hello.” Amy held out her hand to Jane. “We haven’t formally met yet. I’m Amy Dawson.”
Jane shook her hand as dismay filled her body. She had asked the head designer for the company to fetch her a stapler. The woman responsible for creating the clothing lines of the huge and impressive company Jane worked for had stuck her hands up her skirt and then watched her cry in the hallway. “You – you’re Amy Dawson?”
“I am,” Amy said.
“I’m so sorry,” Jane mumbled.
“For what?”
“I – I didn’t know who you were earlier. I never should have asked you to get a stapler for me.”
She gave Amy a look of panic before glancing at Luke. He stared at them, and Jane flushed before hurrying toward the door. “I’ll take this to the lawyer and get your lunch, Mr. Dawson. It - it was nice to meet you, Ms. Dawson.”
“Call me Amy,” Amy called after her.
* * *
Amy smiled at Luke.“How’s it going?”
“She asked you to get her a stapler?” Luke said.
“Long story.” Before sinking into a chair, Amy checked to see that Jane wasn’t at her desk. “So, how’s she doing?”
“Fine.” Luke studied the spreadsheet on his computer screen.
“Just fine?” Amy said. “Give me some details, Luke.”
Luke sighed and leaned back in his chair. “She seems intelligent and competent. I haven’t had to repeat instructions, and she has a good return time on the documents I give her. She hasn’t cried yet and doesn’t try to make small talk.”
Amy studied him carefully. “But?”
“Nothing,” Luke said.
“Spill it, Luke. You know you can’t keep anything a secret from me.”
Luke tugged at his tie. “She smells like peanut butter.”
Amy gaped at him. “What?”
“She smells like peanut butter. She’s eaten a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast and lunch for the last two days. Who does that past the age of ten?”
“Plenty of people. You don’t like peanut butter, but that doesn’t mean everyone doesn’t,” Amy said.
“That’s all she eats,” he said. “I think she might have an eating disorder or something.”
“Just because a girl is on the slender side doesn’t mean she has an eating disorder,” Amy said with a frown. “Don’t be that guy, Luke.”
“I’m not trying to be,” he said. “I honestly think she might have a problem. Now that she’s wearing clothes that fit, she’s even thinner than I thought.”
“You’re not firing her because you don’t like what she eats,” Amy said.
“I know that,” Luke replied. “But for someone who works for a clothing design company, she wears terrible clothes. I meet with investors and buyers all the time. What happens when they walk by her desk and see her dressed like that?”
“Don’t be so shallow,” Amy said.
“Look, like it or not, how our employees dress is important in this company. It’s why we don’t do casual Fridays.”
“If it bothers you so much, give her a clothing allowance,” Amy said.
“Like I told you before, I’ve never done that for an employee, and I’m not starting now,” Luke said. “If she can’t afford to buy nice clothes, that’s not my problem.”
“You’re being a dick,” Amy announced.
“Yes, well, if you’re finished insulting me, I have a lot of work to do.”
Amy stood and blew him a kiss. “Be nice to her, Luke.”
“I’m not the nice one – you are, remember?”
“You should try it sometime. It feels good to be nice.” She grinned at him and left his office before he could reply.
* * *
“Here’s your lunch,Mr. Dawson. I’m sorry it took so long – there was a line at the deli.”
Luke looked up as Jane hurried into his office. The scent of snow and cold air clung to her, and she wore her thin jacket. Her hands and face were bright red from the cold, and her lips were blue. He sighed inwardly. She wasn’t even wearing gloves or a scarf, for God’s sake.
She put the brown paper bag on his desk and smiled tentatively. “The documents have been delivered to the lawyer’s office.”
“Your lips are blue,” he said.
“It’s a bit chilly out.”
He studied her thin jacket. “You should dress more appropriately for the weather.”
She touched her jacket self-consciously but didn’t reply.
He opened the bag of food, took out the foil-wrapped sandwich and the soup container and opened it. “Do you own any Dawson brand clothing, Ms. Smith?”
“I – uh, I have one suit.”
He ate a spoonful of soup. Jane’s stomach growled loudly, and he raised his eyebrow at her.
“I’m so sorry.” She pressed her hand against her flat stomach.
“So, your suit is the one you wore to the interview?” he asked.
She nodded, and he couldn’t hide the distaste that flickered across his face. “I see. Most of your clothes are from Walmart, then?”
Her face, which had begun to pale, turned a fiery red, and she blinked rapidly. He groaned under his breath. Now, the waterworks would start.
“Am I not dressed professionally enough?” she asked quietly.
“It’s fine.” His tone suggested that it wasn’t fine, and she chewed at her bottom lip before backing toward the door.
“Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Dawson.”
“Thank you, Ms. Smith.”
* * *
Luke buttonedhis jacket and handed a pile of papers to Jane. He glanced at his watch. It was past six, and he would be late if he didn’t get his ass moving.
“I’m leaving for the day, Ms. Smith. You should go as well. The rest of it can wait until Monday.”
“Okay. Have a nice weekend, Mr. Dawson.”
Halfway to the elevator, he grabbed his jacket pocket and muttered a curse. He had left his cell on his desk. He walked back toward his office. Jane wasn’t at her desk, and he stopped abruptly in his office doorway.
He had eaten his soup but only half his sandwich at lunch. He’d wrapped the other half back in the foil and tossed it in the trash can under his desk. Jane held the foil-wrapped sandwich in her hand, and as he watched, she unwrapped it and studied the sandwich before carefully wrapping it up again and tucking it into her purse.
He backed away from the doorway and leaned against Jane’s desk. He had just caught his assistant stealing his half-eaten sandwich from the trash. What the hell did he do now?
Nothing, he decided. What could he do? Demand she throw his old food back in the trash? He started toward his office again as Jane came barreling out of his office with his phone in her tiny hand. She ran straight into him and bounced off his chest. He caught her around the waist before she could fall.
She stared at him mutely, her hand clenched around his phone as he frowned. He could feel her ribs through her shirt, and without thinking, he blurted out, “You’re too thin.”
She pushed away from him, straightening her shirt and holding out his cell phone. “You forgot your phone.”
“Thanks.” He stuck it into his pocket. “Why are you still here?”
“I was just leaving,” she replied.
She slipped into her jacket and zipped it up. “Good night, Mr. Dawson.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said. “It’s late.”
“Oh, I’m taking the bus,” she replied.
He followed her to the elevator, and they stood in awkward silence as they waited for it. He cleared his throat. “Are you enjoying your new job, Ms. Smith?”
“Very much,” she said without looking at him. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
He sighed. Jane hadn’t looked him in the eye since he’d commented on her clothes at lunch, and he could feel guilt creeping in. He ignored it. He didn’t need to be friends with his assistant. Still, it was obvious that he had hurt her feelings, which bothered him for some reason.
“You’re doing a good job,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said as the elevators opened. They stepped inside, and she pushed the lobby and parking garage buttons.
“I mean it,” he said. “I’m impressed.”
“It’s only been two days,” she said.
“True, but I had an assistant once who downloaded a virus on her first day and nearly wiped out our entire computer system.”
“You’re kidding.” She glanced at him before looking at the floor again. “What was she downloading?”
“Porn.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she looked so shocked that he laughed. She blushed. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he said. “She thought we couldn’t trace it back to her and was completely surprised when we fired her for it.”
She shook her head and gave him a timid look of amusement as the elevator doors opened. “Well, I’ll try to wait at least a month before I start watching porn at work, Mr. Dawson.”
He laughed again. “I appreciate that, Ms. Smith. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Thank you, you too.”
He watched her walk across the lobby before the elevator doors closed, carrying him down to the garage. He nodded to the security guard in the parking garage and climbed into his car. He pulled out of the garage and stopped for the traffic. His car rocked with the force of the wind, and he glanced idly at the bus stop in front of their building. Jane stood at the bus stop with her hands tucked deep into her pockets and her face buried in the collar of her jacket. Another strong gust blew, and she staggered before catching her balance.
He sighed loudly and turned right, pulling up at the bus stop and lowering the passenger window. “Get in, Ms. Smith.”
She stared blankly at him. “I’m sorry?”
“Get in the car. I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Oh no,” she said as she shivered wildly. “I don’t live around here and - ”
“It’s fine. Get in before you freeze to death.”
She hesitated, and he made a harsh noise of impatience. “I don’t have all night, Ms. Smith.”
She glanced around before opening the door and sliding into the seat. Her hands shook heavily, and she could barely buckle her seat belt. He turned the heat on high and pulled out into traffic.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
She recited the address. Luke cursed under his breath. “The Badlands? You live in the Badlands?”
She nodded and said defensively, “It’s not that bad of a neighbourhood.”
“Wasn’t there a murder out there last weekend?” he said.
She just shrugged, and they drove quietly for a few minutes. “You need to get some gloves and a scarf,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s winter.”
“I’ll buy some this weekend.”
“What are your plans for tonight?” he asked.
“Dinner and then relaxing,” she said.
His gaze dropped to her purse, and she blushed guiltily and pulled it a little closer to her body. He suddenly had a horrible feeling that her dinner was half of a stale turkey sandwich.
“How about you?” she asked.
“Drinks with Mark,” he said.
“Mark Stanford?” she asked.
He nodded, and she gave him a hesitant look. “Are you friends?”
“Yes. We’ve been friends since we were kids. He, Amy and I started the company together.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said. “I knew you and Amy started the company, but I didn’t realize Mark was there from the beginning. He – he’s a nice man. I only met him a couple of times, but he was nice.”
“He is much nicer than me,” he said.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean that you weren’t a nice man. I mean that he was nice and, uh….”
He grinned at her. “I’m teasing you, Ms. Smith.”
“Right,” she said and then blushed again.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. When he parked in front of the building, he stared in disgust. “This is where you live?”
“Yes.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Thank you for the ride home, Mr. Dawson.”
“I’ll walk you to your door. It isn’t safe for you.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “It’s much safer than it looks.”
“Oh yeah?” He pointed to the two men huddled together on the street corner. “So that’s not a drug deal going down?”
“Uh, I’m sure it isn’t.”
“I’m walking you to your door,” he said. “No arguments.”
He exited the car and locked it securely before taking her arm above her elbow. He walked her to the building door, frowning at the broken lock, and followed her into the foyer. It smelled strongly of urine, and his hand tightened on her arm when a man wearing a dirty overcoat and swaying drunkenly stood up from the corner.
“Hey, pretty lady. You’re home early tonight.”
“Hi, Mickey,” Jane said.
“You wanna come to my apartment and have a drink with me?” he slurred. He moved closer, and Luke shoved him back angrily when he reached out to touch Jane.
He stumbled and fell back against the wall before blinking blearily at Luke. “Who the hell are you?”
“Stay away from her,” Luke said.
“It’s fine,” Jane said quickly. “Mickey’s my neighbour.”
“Yeah, I’m her neighbour,” Mickey said. “We’re gonna have drinks tonight.”
“No, we’re not,” Jane said. “Go sleep it off, Mickey.”
“Why don’t you sleep it off with me, pretty Jane?” Mickey wheedled. “You know you’re dyin’ to see what’s in my pants.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Luke snarled at him, “or I’ll knock what teeth you have left out of your goddamn head.”
“Mr. Dawson, it’s fine,” Jane said. He ignored her and pulled her against his body. He wrapped his arm protectively around her waist when Mickey drifted closer again.
“Go anywhere near her, Mickey,” he said in a low voice, “and I’ll beat the hell out of you.”
“Jesus,” Mickey whined, “I was just being friendly.”
He glared at the two of them before staggering toward the door. He disappeared into the dark, and Luke grimaced. “This is not a safe place for you to live, Ms. Smith.”
“Mickey is harmless,” she said.
He realized he still had her pressed up against him. He released her so quickly that she stumbled and nearly fell. He steadied her with a hand on her elbow, and she gave him an embarrassed smile.
“Thank you again, Mr. Dawson. Good night.”
“I’ll walk you right to your door,” he said. “Let’s go.”
She sighed but didn’t protest when he followed her up the stairs. She lived on the second floor, and he studied the dirty carpet and the stained walls with fresh disgust as she pulled her keys out of her pocket.
“Good night,” she said. “Thank you for - ”
“Your cheque bounced.”
They both turned at the sound of the gravelly voice behind them. The man behind them wore sweatpants and a stained, ripped t-shirt that barely covered his large beer belly. He scratched at the hairy band of flesh peeking below the shirt before picking his underwear out of the crack of his ass.
“Mr. Ranson, uh, hi,” Jane said.
“Rent was due yesterday, and your cheque bounced,” he said. “I want my rent money.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jane said. “I thought I had enough to cover it. I’ll write you another cheque right now.”
He shook his head. “Nope, gonna need cash from now on.”
“I was paid today,” Jane said. “The cheque will clear, I promise.”
The man scratched his ass before sniffing at his fingers. He looked Luke up and down, his beady eyes studying the expensive watch around his wrist, before shaking his head again. “Nope. Cash only.”
“Sure, no problem,” Jane said. “I’ll go to the bank first thing in the morning and - ”
“Gonna need the cash tonight.”
“The bank is already closed,” Jane said with a hint of desperation, “and I’m not sure I can get the full amount out through a bank machine. I promise I’ll bring the cash to you first thing in the morning.”
“Cash tonight,” the man said slowly, “or find somewhere else to sleep for the night.” He studied Luke again. “Maybe you can stay at your fancy boyfriend’s place.”
Jane flushed miserably. “I’ll get the money now. I’ll bring it up to your apartment in - ”
“How much is the rent?” Luke asked.
Jane gave him a horrified look. “No, Mr. Dawson, I can’t - ”
“How much?” he repeated.
Jane pressed her lips together and shook her head. Luke turned to her disgusting landlord. “How much?”
“Nine hundred,” the man said. He watched greedily as Luke pulled a money clip from his pocket and counted nine one-hundred-dollar bills. He handed the money to the landlord, who clutched it and recounted it.
“Good night,” Luke said pointedly.
The landlord stared at him for a moment before waddling to the stairwell. He shut the door behind him with a loud bang, and Jane jumped before giving Luke a look of shame.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Mr. Dawson. I don’t have internet at home to do online banking, but I’ll go right now to the bank machine. My limit is five hundred, but I can bring the rest to you Monday morning. Or,” she chewed on her bottom lip, “if you give me your personal email address, I’ll use the internet at the public library tomorrow and etransfer it to you.”
“You can bring the cash or etransfer it to me on Monday,” he said.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind giving you some cash tonight. In fact, I’d feel better if you let me give you a partial payment tonight and e-transfer the rest tomorrow. There’s a bank machine a few miles from here. If you can give me a ride to it, it’ll take less than ten minutes to get there.”
He didn’t reply, and she chewed again on her lip. “Oh, right. You have plans with Mark. If you tell me where you’re having drinks, I’ll drop it off tonight. I can take the bus to the restaurant.”
“It’s cold and too late and dangerous for you to take the bus.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve taken the bus way later than this, and I’m fine with the cold. Why don’t you give me the restaurant name, and I’ll bring the five hundred dollars to you.”
“No,” he said. “Monday morning is fine.”
“A-are you sure?” she whispered.
He nodded and backed away when her eyes watered with tears. “I’m positive. Good night, Ms. Smith.”
“Good night, Mr. Dawson.”
She turned away quickly and jabbed her key into the lock before slipping inside and shutting the door. Luke waited until he heard the lock turn before walking away.
* * *
Her apartment was freezing,but she didn’t bother turning up the heat as she kicked off her boots. She could turn the thermostat up as high as it would go, and it wouldn’t make a difference. She had spoken to Mr. Ranson three times about the heat, but he still hadn’t fixed it. She supposed she should be grateful that she had at least some warmth trickling through the apartment.
Speaking of heat…let’s talk about how Mr. Dawson put his arm around you twice today.
She tried to ignore her inner voice, but it carried on happily.
He was warm, wasn’t he? He smelled delicious, and he held you a little longer than necessary. Did you notice?
He told me I was too thin, she snapped at her inner voice. Besides, he was saving me from falling on my ass the first time.
Yeah, but what about the second time? He didn’t need to touch you the second time when he was protecting you from Mickey. How sweet was that, by the way? You should thank him. Maybe give him a blow job at work on Monday to -
Shut up! What is wrong with you? Don’t you remember what happened the last time we slept with our boss?
Her inner voice fell silent. Jane stomped across her apartment and quickly changed into her flannel pajamas. It wasn’t even eight yet, but she wasn’t working tonight, and it wasn’t like she could afford to go out with her few friends.
She sighed heavily and grabbed her purse before sitting on the couch and wrapping herself in a blanket. She pulled out the foil-wrapped sandwich and unwrapped it. Shame flooded her, but her hunger quickly overrode it, and she bit into the sandwich. The bread was a little stale, but after three days of eating nothing but peanut butter sandwiches, it still tasted amazing. She forced herself to eat slowly until it was gone. She considered making herself a peanut butter sandwich before curling into a smaller ball and staring out the window.
She was exhausted, but she still wished she was working tonight. Friday and Saturday nights were the busiest at the clubs and good for tips, but she never worked them anymore. She used to, she used to work every weekend, in fact, but that had all changed three months ago. Now, she worked Monday to Thursday at the club, and the combined total of tips in those four nights was less than the tips she used to make on a Friday night.
She sighed again and closed her eyes. It was her own damn fault for being so stupid and na?ve. She hadn’t put two and two together that getting the best shifts directly resulted from sleeping with Jeremy. She hadn’t seen - or maybe didn’t want to see - who Jeremy was. It had felt too damn good to be with someone, to have a warm body to curl up against and believe that it wasn’t just her against the world. She thought that Jeremy cared for her, maybe even loved her. That belief and her relief at finally not feeling so alone kept her in a relationship with her boss at the club.
She walked to the bathroom and brushed her teeth before climbing into bed. She curled up under the covers and tried to sleep. She didn’t want to dwell on the past because it made her feel stupid and ashamed, but it kept crowding in.
The sex was okay with Jeremy. At least, she thought it was. He was her first, and the fact that she was a virgin had appealed to him more than she cared for. She didn’t always orgasm, but she never complained. Jeremy liked to boast about his abilities in bed, and she figured her nerves and insecurities made it occasionally difficult for her to climax. Jeremy found her attractive, but he had hinted more than once that she would look even better with a boob job which didn’t exactly help her confidence in bed. She had always been on the slender side with narrow hips and small breasts, and she was a little envious of her coworkers and their lush curves. Of course, slender was twenty pounds ago and now her ribs stuck out, and her breasts were practically non-existent.
She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She was slowly starving to death and was now resorting to stealing her boss’ garbage.
Don’t forget that he paid your rent out of his pocket. That’s another first in humiliation for you.
Another wave of shame washed over her, and she wiped at the tears starting to leak down her cheeks. She felt sorry for herself and her grumbling stomach, but there was no point. Her life was what it was, and she had to make the best of it. In the morning, she would buy a few groceries and –
You can’t. You heard what Mr. Dawson said about your clothes. You need better clothing, or he’s going to fire you.
He wouldn’t. He can’t! she thought frantically.
Sure, he could. You’re on a three-month probation, remember? He can come up with another reason for firing you, even if it’s actually because of how you dress. Tomorrow you need to get your ass into a proper clothing store and buy some Dawson brand clothes. Your job depends on it.
I’m starving! I need food.
You need this job.
She would try the Food Bank again, she decided.
You make more now than the last time you tried. They won’t approve you. You make too much money, and it’s not their problem that most of it goes to caring for Mama J.
Suddenly overwhelmed and wracked with self-pity, she turned on her side and wept bitterly.
* * *
“Sorry, I’m late.”Luke sat on the barstool next to Mark.
“No problem.” Mark took a sip of whiskey as the bartender nodded to Luke before bringing him his usual. “I assume work was the usual culprit?”
Luke sipped at his drink. “No.”
“Interesting.” Mark raised his eyebrows at him. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
Luke studied his best friend. Mark’s dark hair was too long, and dark circles were under his eyes. “You look like shit. You need a haircut.”
“Thanks, Mom. Don’t change the subject. Why were you late?”
“I was driving an employee home.”
Mark jerked in surprise. “You’re shitting me.”
“No,” Luke said. “My assistant, Jane Smith.”
“Ahh, the tiny Jane Smith – a perfectly good data entry clerk until you poached her from me. How’s she working out?”
“Fine,” Luke said. “She’s smart and works hard. How well do you know her?”
“Honestly, not that well. She was only in my department for a few months and mostly worked with Kyla.”
“Is she in a relationship?”
“How the hell would I know,” Mark said. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious,” Luke said.
Mark laughed. “It’s more than just curiosity.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Sure it is. Don’t tell me you’ve got a hard-on for your PA. That’s asking for trouble.”
“I’m not attracted to my PA,” Luke snapped.
“I’d be surprised if you were. She weighs, what, ninety pounds? You’ve always liked the ladies with curves.”
Luke didn’t reply, and Mark took another drink of whiskey. “So, why were you driving your PA home?”
“Because she was standing in her stupid thin jacket at the bus stop, and it was freezing outside. The wind nearly blew her over.”
“So now you’re a Good Samaritan?” Mark said with a grin.
Luke sighed. “She lives in the Badlands, Mark.”
“Jesus. You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not. You should have seen her apartment building – it’s filthy and dangerous. Her drunk neighbour tried to get her into his apartment while I was standing right there. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Then, her landlord showed up and told her that her rent cheque had bounced. He demanded the rent in cash right then, or he would kick her out into the street.”
“Christ.”
“I paid her rent for her.”
“You did not!”
“Of course I did. What was I supposed to do? Just let her be kicked out of her apartment on the coldest night of the year?”
“Holy shit,” Mark said. “You do have a thing for your PA.”
Luke downed his scotch in one large gulp before signalling the bartender for another. “No, I don’t. She’s paying me back on Monday.”
“Well, that was nice of you.”
“I thought she had an eating disorder, but now I’m not so sure,” Luke said slowly. “I didn’t eat all my sandwich at lunch, and I saw her take it out of the trash and put it in her purse.”
“Christ, Luke. You really should pay your employees more.”
“She’s making more for me than she did in your department,” Luke said.
“Maybe she’s just bad with money.” Mark shrugged. “That’s not your problem if she has a shopping addiction.”
“She wears cheap clothing from Walmart.”
“She doesn’t have to be addicted to clothes shopping,” Mark said. “Anyway, how are your PA’s money problems any of your concern?”
“It isn’t,” Luke said. “Forget I said anything. Mom wants you to come by this weekend for dinner.”
“I can’t make it,” Mark said. “Tell her I’m sorry, but I’ll try to stop by one night during the week to see her.”
“When Amy won’t be there?” Luke asked.
Mark stiffened at the mention of her name, and Luke sighed. “What’s going on with you and Amy?”
“Nothing,” Mark muttered.
“Bullshit. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, and I know you better than anyone. A month ago, everything was normal, and now you and Amy barely speak to each other, and you’ve stopped coming for family dinners. What are you and Amy fighting about?”
“We’re not fighting about anything,” Mark said.
“Yeah, that’s what Amy says. Why aren’t either of you telling me the truth?”
Mark scowled at him. “Leave it alone, Luke.”
“Leave what alone?” Luke said.
“Just mind your own business.”
“She’s my sister,” Luke said. “I love you, man, you know I do, but if you’ve hurt her or -”
“Hurt her?” Mark growled. “You think I would hurt your sister?”
“No. I know you love Amy like a sister, but sometimes siblings fight,” Luke said. “You guys need to talk about whatever this is and fix it.”
“No, you need to mind your business,” Mark retorted. “I’m gonna go. It was a long day at work, and I’m tired. See you on Monday.”
“Mark, wait. I’m trying to help.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not. Good night.”
Mark threw some bills on the bar and stalked away as Luke stared in shock. What the hell was going on?