Chapter 11 Reason Four
The next morning, I woke up to three missed calls.
All local numbers. There were no voicemails, no texts, just three missed calls.
When I called the first number back, it went straight to voicemail.
The second number rang fourteen times before I finally hung up.
I called the final number, and a woman with a husky voice answered.
“Well, it’s about damn time. Where are you? I was supposed to show you the registers today.”
“Huh? Who is this?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I stood and walked toward my dresser, cringing when I caught sight of myself. My eyes were still red and puffy from the night before.
“Forgot me already, doll?”
“Rhoda?”
“Rhonda,” she corrected me. “Seriously, kid. It’s your second day and you’re three hours late. Not a good look.”
“What? No, Gray fired me last night.”
“Mm-hmm, I knew it. No call-no show, my ass.” The phone made a rustling sound as if she was covering the receiver with her hand.
Her words sounded muffled, but her attitude was clear.
Rhonda-slash-Rhoda was in a mood. After a beat, her voice returned, clear and crisp.
“Hold on, doll. Got someone that wants to talk to you.” She continued her little back and forth with whoever she was speaking with before handing the phone over.
“Kent?”
Gray. Gray on the phone. Gray saying my name like he had all the right in the world to say it. Like he fucking owned it.
“Hey, G-Gray,” I sputtered, opening my bedside drawer and taking out his discarded photograph.
God, his smile in that picture. The look of pure, undeniable love pouring out of him.
That’s the Gray I wanted to remember. Not the Gray who’d stared at me in horror after we’d been caught in his childhood bed.
Not the Gray who’d tried to bribe me to leave him alone in the employee restroom the night before.
“About last night.” His voice was quiet, like he was afraid Rhonda might overhear. “Can you just go? I can handle this myself,” he said—I assumed—to Rhonda.
“Listen—” I started before he cut me off.
“I’m sorry. I’m not proud of the way I acted. That’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be. If you still want the job, it’s yours. Just come in today. Please?”
“So you can fire me again?” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to style it into something that didn’t resemble a briar patch.
“Rhonda’s not going to let me off the hook unless you come back.”
“Fantastic management skills you've got there.” I pressed the speaker icon and set my phone on my dresser. Digging through the little bag that held the last of my luxuries, I pulled out a tube of eye cream that I’d been rationing for months.
I squeezed the end of the tube with every bit of strength I had in me, just trying to get a tiny splotch to peek through.
In the end, my efforts were rewarded when a droplet fell into my palm.
“Yes!” I unnecessarily shouted into the air.
“Is that a ‘yes’ you’ll come in or ‘yes’ you’re having a seizure?”
I dabbed the cream under my eyes and spread it across with my pinkie. “Yes.”
“That really clears it up,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yes,” I said again, and then, “Gray, I meant what I said last night.” I pulled out my best cologne, spritzing it twice on my neck and once on my wrist. “I’m not here for that.” I walked to my closet, picking the tightest slacks I could find. “I’m not here for you. That’s not why I’m home.”
“I know.”
My closet was full of V-necks and button-downs, but there was one shirt that I was searching for. My best shirt. A magenta polo with a pink flamingo prancing across the center. “I’m not here to woo you. I’m not trying to win you back.”
“Yes, Kent.”
“Good. I just want to make that clear.” I wedged myself into my slacks, digging my hand into my underwear and pulling my package forward so that it stood out.
“I don’t want anything from you. I’m just trying to help my mom,” I said, clinging to the lie that Kate had spun for me.
We both knew the truth, but at that moment, in my childhood bedroom, I could still hold on to the fib.
The one that didn’t make me sound so pathetic. “You remember my mom, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good. Hurting me is only going to hurt her. She doesn’t deserve that. Neither do I.” I reached for a Kleenex and dabbed the wetness forming in the corner of my eyes. “I’m just trying to make money. That’s all this is.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll see you after a while.” The phone beeped in my ear, alerting me he’d hung up. I looked into the mirror again, scowling at the sixteen-year-old wolf in adult clothing.
Rhonda was in the elevated office with Gray when I arrived.
Gray was facing the wall, giving me an unobstructed view of the bald patch of skin on the back of his head.
Rhonda had her hand on his shoulder, rubbing back and forth to console him.
I wasn’t sure why he needed consoling. He hadn’t lost a damn thing that night.
When she saw me, she leaned over, whispering something into his ear. His entire body tensed. He turned slowly, trying to appear casual, but I knew what he was doing. Searching me out. Trying to find his Half-pint.
Our eyes locked, and we stayed there for a moment, neither of us wanting to take that first step. To give that first acknowledgment. There were lifetimes hidden in his eyes. Lifetimes I hadn’t been privy to. One of us had to make the first move, so I flashed a smile and gave him a quick wave.
Rhonda made her way down the stairs, opened the door to the office, and motioned for me to join her. I sauntered over, my movements light and dainty like a poised peacock, ready to ruffle some feathers. She threw an arm around my shoulder and squeezed.
I quirked a brow at her.
“Honey, I’m an affectionate person. Always have been, always will be. Just gonna have to come to terms with that. The sooner you do, the better off you’ll be.”
“It’s true,” Gray said from behind the plexiglass office window, his eyes now focused on his computer screen.
Rhonda pointed at the stairs leading up to the tiny office. “You go first, hon. Want to get me a good look at you on the trip up.”
I cocked my head to the side and grinned. “You checking out my ass?”
“I check out all the asses,” she said.
“True again. It’s creepy, but it’s her thing,” Gray said.
I nodded, and when I spoke, my voice came through louder than I had intended.
“Good thing I wore my tightest pants. Feel free to appreciate it at your leisure.” I arched my back a little further as I walked toward the office door.
As I walked up the stairs, Gray muttered something under his breath that I chose to ignore, enjoying Rhonda’s catcalls along the way.
I might have been gay, but a gentleman never turns up his nose at a compliment.
The office was tiny, with barely enough room to even turn around. There was an empty seat next to Gray. Without looking up, he tapped the chair, motioning for me to join him.
“Just have some paperwork to go through with you. W-4, i9, that kind of stuff.”
“Is there some kind of employee handbook?” I asked.
“You know, policies, protocol, a chapter on sexual harassment.” I turned to smirk at Rhonda, but she was no longer there.
She was in lane two buying herself a candy bar and a Diet Coke.
I glanced back at Gray, his mouth now hanging open.
My cheeks burned, and I folded my hands in my lap. “I meant Rhonda. I didn’t mean—”
“There’s nothing not to mean,” he said. “Nothing happened.” Clearly, he still wasn’t over the events of the night before.
“Christ, give it a rest, dude. You saw my dick again. It’s not the end of the world.” I leaned over, knocking our shoulders together. He stared at me like I’d just slapped him.
There was a picture on the other side of his desk that caught my eye.
A silver frame with two smiling faces housed inside.
Without thinking, I reached past him to grab it.
He must have thought I was trying to cop a feel because Gray—unhinged and drunk on power—slapped my hand away, sending it crashing into his computer monitor.
“Wow. Do you feel better now?” I glared at him and reached past him again, snatching the frame and waving it inches in front of his face.
“I’m not going to tell you this again, Grayson.
” He looked to be frozen in place. His arm remained in front of him, where he had just pushed me.
“I am not interested. At all. In the slightest.” His face was blank, his expression unreadable. “Nod if you understand.”
He did nothing of the sort, having decided that sulking like a toddler was a much better look.
I ignored his silly, childlike behavior and jerked the picture back toward me, studying the smiling faces in the frame.
Gray and a woman with frizzy red hair, styled in an updo.
She held a beagle in one hand and a bible in the other.
I remembered that photo. I was in that photo once.
Now it ended with Gray and a small strip of my shoulder.
Gray reached over, gently prying the frame from my hand.
I didn’t know why it hurt as much as it did, seeing myself erased from his history.
I’d done the same to him. It’s not like I had any right to judge him for it.
Before my East Texas exile, I’d torched every photo I had of him.
It hadn’t been easy to discard him. There were shows I could no longer watch because they were ones we watched together.
I couldn’t read the books we’d shared. Hell, Abide With Me had been stricken from every playlist, and that hurt worse than everything else that I’d lost combined.
Just for you, Half-pint. Just for you.
Liar.