Page 16 of Ansel

Of course, he didn’t.

“How have you been?” he asked, like we were casually catching up instead of sitting in the aftermath of everything.

I huffed a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I’m fine, Ansel. You know I poured your coffee in a to-go cup so you’llgo to…out.”Hell, actually. So, you’ll go to hell!

I heard his exhale, saw his fingers tighten against the paper cup, and I feared he’d burn himselfandmake a mess that I’d have to clean up. Nothing new—I’d been doing that for three years for this overgrown toddler.

“I deserve the attitude,” he admitted, “I understand it. But can we talk like grown-ups?”

Oh no, he didn’t!

I set down my cleaning rag, folding my arms. “I don’t work for you anymore, Ansel. There’snothingto talk about.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m just being polite, Neha, asking how you’re doing. That’s all.”

My breath caught somewhere in my chest and I wanted—no, needed—to hit him when I’d never raised my hand at anyone in my whole life.

“Polite, huh? You mean like you were when you took me out to lunch to soften the blow of firing myincapable of working for youass?”

Penny walked up to the counter then, tapping the order into the POS system before sliding a chit toward me. “Two café lattes with whole milk and one masala chai,” she called out.

I grabbed the receipt and reached for the milk pitcher, hoping against hope my asshole ex-boss would leave before I poured ahotdrink all over him.

The arrogant son of a bitch was asking me if I could behave like a grown up? Well, I wasn’t the one who listened to gossip and rumors and treated me with disrespect? I wasn’t the one who told a colleague that I wasn’t good enough to go up to his stupid fortieth floor with him.

By the time I had made the drinks, I was fuming.

Once done, I came to Ansel. “I want you to leave.”

He tilted his head. “I know how you feel.”

“Good, then get out.”

He smiled. “I have missed you.”

I’m going to fuck this asshole up! Penny could use my savings for bail money. It’d be worth it.

I considered walking out, but I didn’t want to make a scene, and some stubborn, foolish part of me wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Fine, talk. You have five minutes.” I stood with my hands on my hips, mustering as much dignity as I could in my Sun & Chai apron that had a ridiculous cartoon sun winking over a steaming cup of chai, with the slogan:Rise and Chaistitched beneath it.

Not exactly a power suit I used to wear at Sterling, but at least here, I wasn’t getting stabbed in the back.

“I—” He hesitated, his gaze flicking away before meeting mine again. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to Vanessa. That was wrong of me.” He swallowed, like the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “I didn’t mean it.”

A sharp, humorless laugh slipped out. “Youdidmean it, Ansel. That’s the worst part. You just didn’t expect me to hear it.”

His jaw tightened. “It wasn’t personal—”“Not personal?” My voice was cold, but my hands were trembling. “I gave everything to that job. To you. And you threw me away the second someone spilled some bullshit about me to you. How exactly is that not personal?”

He looked pained, as though he hadn’t expected this conversation to be difficult. Like he’d convinced himself that simply showing up and uttering the wordsI’m sorrywould magically fix everything—that we’d instantly be pals again, because in his screwed-up mind, I clearly had zero self-respect.

He propped himself up on his forearms. “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have listened to—”“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I shook my head, cutting him off. “You made yourself perfectly clear.”

On second thought, no, I didn’t want to hear his feeble excuses. They would only make me feel worse.

“Neha—”

“You came here to makeyourselffeel better,” I said, watching the shock register on his face. “You thought you could show up, throw out an apology, and—just like that—ease your guilt, or whatever it is you’re feeling. You thought all you had to do was say the magic three words—I am sorry—and I’d fall all over myself, ready to forgive and forget.”

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