right now.”
“Why?” he prodded. “What are you thinking?”
He asked. He asked!
“Oh, you don’t want to know,” she said. “It involves you and me and bubbles and—”
I cut her off, “Ann-Marie, I really think you need to go back to the lounge and play us some ‘welcome home’ music right now.”
She let out a giggle and scurried away, making eyes at Austen until the door slammed behind her. I realized that left me alone with the man that I didn’t want to have a conversation with. He watched me over the counter. I took a deep breath. “Taylor and Bigley are in love,” I said. “And they’re happy. They are so in love and happy that they make everyone around them sick.”
He broke into a smile. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to give you a hard time. I missed you. Did you miss me?” His eyes were on mine and he gave me that pleading look that had always worked on me before. But I knew exactly what this was now. Spending time together didn’t mean love—it meant Austen was bored and wanted to hang out with someone fun. Well, I refused to drop everything just to entertain him.
“Austen.” I leaned over the counter so that he could see the serious look on my face. “You didn’t miss me or you would’ve called. Were your fingers too big and fat to fit the numbers on the screen?”
He smirked, not even looking guilty after I’d called him out. “I told you I’d text back. Besides, I’m not good at the long distance thing.”
Interpretation: I wasn’t worth the effort.
“Yeah?” I asked. “Well, I’m not good at the short-distance thing.” It came out before I could really think what it sounded like and he reacted by giving a short bark of laughter. I pointed at him before he could tease me about it. “With you!” I corrected. “Only with you.” I knew he was lying about the whole accounting thing; I had heard it in his voice. I pulled closer to him. “Why did you really come back here, Austen?”
He hesitated before answering, “How could I miss the big event ?”
And now he was back to insulting my job again. As if he sensed my annoyance, Austen reached out and took my hand. With a start, I saw that he was still wearing the bracelet I had given him before he left—it hurt that he thought more about my gift than he did about me.
“You need a break,” he said. “I can already see Taylor running you ragged. We should go to the beach today. I haven’t gotten a sunburn in way too long.”
I jerked away from him, more violently than I intended, but he just didn’t get that I didn’t want to grow attached. “I just heard you tell Taylor that you were much too busy with the books to help us out. I’m not dumb. I get it. You think my job is a joke.”
“What? Are you kidding me? I did not say that.”
“You didn’t? Okay, let’s see. The first thing out of your mouth when you saw me was, ‘Wow, Jane, I can’t believe that your job sucks so much.’”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Not in so many words—it sounded like you were asking me why I would still want to be here. And now you think you can just be charming and I’ll blow off the opportunity of a lifetime—even if you think Taylor’s wedding is a train wreck—so that I can have the privilege of entertaining you at the beach?”
“So you think I’m charming?”
I fumed. “Yes! Too much! Should I pay you for this honor of taking you out, or maybe we can work out some kind of trade? Let me give you my life savings. Oh, wait, I don’t have one because my job’s worthless!”
“Jane, are you really mad at me, or are you doing that thing you do when you’re stressed out and you take it out on me? You know I’m here for you if you need to let out a little aggression.” He thought this was a joke. I let out a deep, shuddering breath and he threw his hands up in a defeated gesture. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings . . .”
“Oh, you can’t,” I
Learning to Kill: Stories