Chapter 4
I nearly slipped on the slick, icy sidewalk before I noticed him and slowed my steps.
Jeff beat me to the site again. This was the third building we’d checked out this week in our hunt for the perfect site for Hazel’s new counseling center.
I’d tried to arrive early because the last two times, I was convinced he’d used the extra face time with Hazel to complain about me, so of course I wanted to prevent that today.
What he’d complain about, I don’t know—I’m not usually considered difficult to work with.
Of all my flaws, I knew that wasn’t one of them.
At least it had never been an issue before.
If anything, I was too accommodating in most situations.
But he’d called me an obstacle to progress yesterday after only two weeks of working together, and I’d been fuming ever since.
I slowed my steps as much as possible without attracting attention from other brave wintertime pedestrians, so I assumed Jeff would be well ahead of me and into the narrow brick building by the time I reached it. But inexplicably, he was just inside the door.
I groaned as I followed him silently inside. The last thing I wanted to do was walk with him down that dim, super narrow hallway ahead of us.
“Hello, Roxanne.”
“Hello, Jeffrey,” I said with a mocking undertone. I didn’t even know if Jeffrey was really his name, but I didn’t care.
He narrowed his eyes but said nothing and turned to walk down the hall.
“The lighting in here leaves much to be desired,” I said. “And when was this walkway built? In the Middle Ages? It’s so narrow. I’m half expecting to see a spiral staircase death trap up ahead. Or a maze of narrow corridors and some tiny alcoves next to window slits. At least they could’ve—”
My mouth snapped shut when he halted and turned, right there in the hallway. “Are you all right, Roxanne? Too much caffeine today?”
Inhaling sharply, I put my hands on my hips—or where I imagined my hips would be if I weren’t wearing such a thick winter coat. “Hilarious, Jeffrey.”
One time. One time. He was mocking me for the one time I’d become sick at a staff meeting from chugging coffee all morning after a sleepless night. He’d never let me forget it.
My face flushed and my mouth clamped shut as I realized I had, in fact, been talking a mile a minute.
And even Jeff knew me well enough to know that wasn’t normal for me.
Well, it wasn’t rare—it was a bad habit when nervous to either be silent or ramble—but it was obviously not my default state.
I didn’t even know what my default state was, honestly.
I rarely felt like I could be myself with anyone, and I wasn’t one to talk to myself when alone.
Jeff raised an eyebrow ever so slightly but turned back to walk more briskly down the hall. We entered a medium-sized room with overhead lighting that I knew would give me a headache within minutes.
“I hope this isn’t the new office, Jeff. It’s a little small. And what is that smell?” I looked around, aware I sounded like a master complainer but unable to stop myself. Before he could reply, I looked at him pointedly. “Where’s Hazel?”
“I assume she’s on her way,” he said before pointing to his left. “This is just the foyer. It could be a waiting room, maybe. But come this way.”
Following him reluctantly, I passed through a doorway that seemed oddly short.
He had to duck his head, as he was tallish, probably close to six feet.
Still, most doorways were at least seven to eight feet high.
I made a mental note to add doorway height to this old building’s growing list of shortcomings.
Jeff led me into a more open area with hallways, closed doors on both sides, and a large central desk. “Receptionist?” I asked.
“Maybe. Or the reception desk could be back in the foyer, and this desk could be for the office manager.” He shrugged. “Let’s look into the offices.”
We entered the first room on the left, and I wrinkled my nose at the musty smell probably baked into the faded, crinkly wallpaper. “This looks more like a conference room.”
He surveyed the area with a critical eye, but then his phone beeped, and he picked it up.
I exhaled loudly, annoyed, and walked past him out the door.
The next closed room looked more like an office, with empty shelving on one side of the room.
I brushed my fingers across the shelves, heedless of the dust, as I allowed myself to imagine having a professional office like this again, with my reference books filling the shelves.
I smiled as I picked up an antique bookend that someone had left on one of the shelves.
“Roxanne.”
I jerked to attention and dropped the bookend.“Ugh, Jeff! You startled me.”
His eyebrow rising slightly, he shook his head as I glared at him and then bent to pick up the bookend.
“Are you finished with your urgent business on your phone?” I asked, pasting a tight smile onto my face. At least I hoped it was a smile, but it probably resembled the face one makes when being strangled.
He sighed. “I am. It was Hazel. She can’t make it today.”
My eyes widened. “Hazel just contacted you?”
“Yes, to tell me she couldn’t make it. She’s stuck at the Sheraton by the Minneapolis airport for the night. They’re getting a lot of snow again, apparently, but it’s going to miss us here—”
“Wait, what’s she doing in the Cities?”
“She went away with Peter for a few days. I forgot the name of the place, but it’s that town in California where she grew up.”
“She … I …”
My breaths came faster, and I couldn’t speak. I was Hazel’s assistant. Why didn’t I know she’d gone away? And why had she contacted Jeff about this today, not me?
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Uh, you know, I probably just forgot. My attention was somewhere—” The second the words were out, I wanted to take them back. So much for not looking flighty all the time.
He rolled his eyes. “Figures. I just hope you can maintain your focus throughout this project.”
“I can, and I am,” I said through clenched teeth.
But I was dying inside as I pivoted to face the window.
Why didn’t Hazel tell me such things? It wasn’t just this instance either—this had become a pattern with her.
When she’d been stuck in Peter’s house during a blizzard for four days, I didn’t even hear from her once.
When he’d been in the hospital a few weeks later, I had to hear it from Mari.
And those were just the very recent examples.
Why would you expect any different? You’re just not the kind of person people share things with. You’re not friends with her.
Taking a long but shaky breath, I tried to block out the devastation pouring over me.
This was nothing new. It was the story of my life. I took another slow breath and raised my chin. Determined not to show any weakness in front of Jeff, I spun around with a resolute expression—
OUCH.
I slammed into a hard, unforgiving surface and bounced back, landing on my heels as a larger hand reached out to clasp my upper arm.
We stood frozen for a moment before I hastily walked back two more steps, and he let my arm go. I stared at him and opened my mouth, but no words came.
“Are you all right?” He looked genuinely concerned, his brow furrowing deeper than usual. “Your chin—I think it collided with my shoulder.”
My hand flew to my chin, and a gasp escaped my mouth. “Uh, yeah, that really hurts. But I think it was you who ran into me.”
His concern evaporated, and he shook his head. “You may have a nice big bruise tomorrow.”
I scowled. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
His face twisted into an expression I didn’t recognize, and then he shook his head again. “Well, it seems like you’re OK.”
“No thanks to you,” I muttered, lightly patting my sore chin, which hurt to even touch.
“I heard that,” he said, having already turned back toward the door.
I reluctantly followed him out of the room. “We should head out and reschedule this visit after Hazel’s back. Or just tell her it’s not worth seeing. There’s a reason this building hasn’t been used in years.”
He turned back to me briefly before marching toward the other side of the central admin desk. “No need. We can send her notes.”
I wanted to object, but he was walking so fast I could barely keep up.
We entered the first office on the other side, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the large window with a view of the town square.
“What is it with you and windows?” Jeff said, eyeing me quickly before unlocking his phone.
I took a long moment to savor the surprisingly nice view and then replied, “Most people appreciate a nice view, Jeffrey. If you don’t, you’re the odd one.”
Who are you?
Where is Roxy?
Shaking my head in disbelief, I watched as he typed away on his phone. Finally, I walked over to join him. “So you’re the one who’s easily distracted today.”
As soon as I started speaking, he froze. Finally, he took a few steps away and turned toward me. “I’m taking notes, Roxanne, ever heard of it? You should be doing it too.”
My mouth tightened as I stepped toward him. “Let me see.”
He held his phone against his chest. “No.”
“We’re supposed to be partners, Jeffrey.” I don’t know where I got these weird flashes of bravado around him … he brought out the worst in me, and I couldn’t resist arguing with him. “Are you hiding something? Are you writing something you don’t want me to see?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m not hiding anything. I doubt you’d need to see my notes, as you seem content with a small role in this project.”
I saw red. “I seem content … what? You—” I stopped, taking a deep breath and another step in his direction.
“You have been bullishly doing and deciding everything from day one, giving me little to no opportunity to contribute. If I have a small role, it’s because you’re not letting me do anything ! ”
He walked backward a couple of steps and nearly collided with a small bookcase visibly covered in dust.