Page 57 of Desserts for Stressed People

“If you mean profits, yes. Investments...absolutely not. Your dream, your investments. I’ll be everyone’s boss, that’s my contribution. Plus, I’mreallynice.”

When he laughs, I playfully hit his arm. Slowly, his smile softens, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down repeatedly as his eyes roam over my face. “I—I was thinking...” He looks to the right, then focuses back on me. “Maybe we could—there’s this nice place by the canals.” He scratches his head and shrugs. “Can I bring you out for dinner sometime?”

Oh. My body winces. Shane’s asking me out. Me. Not Nevaeh. Me. I stare at him, and he swallows again as his jaw tenses. Sure, it isn’t easy to ask someone out, even if that someone is me.

He seems to remember something and moves his hands up. “Don’t—don’t feel you have to say yes. I know I’m your boss right now, and, hmm...” He rubs his jaw. “I wanted to wait for you to go back to your department. But—I guess it just felt like the right...moment.”

I move my hand up. “No, I know. I don’t feel—”

“I won’t fire you if you say no,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, I interrupted you. I know you hate that.” He purses his lips, as if to stop himself from rambling. It doesn’t work. “But you don’t have to worry about anything. If you’re not interested.”

I am. I really am. And he looks so nervous, he’s making me anxious too. I wish I could say yes. But what about Alex? Can I accept before officially breaking up with him? I guess I can. I can say yes, then go home and break things off with him, screw waiting for the raise. It feels icky, though. And dishonest.

Threading my fingers through my hair, I knock over the napkin holder. My eyes widen in terror as it slowly falls forward, hitting Shane’s coffee, and once the liquid sloshes up in the air, I almost live an out-of-body experience, and see the scene as if it’s playing in slow motion. Shane’s coffee lands back, spilling all over the table and drenching his clothes.

“Oh—shit! Shit, I’m so sorry,” I wail as he moves back to avoid being soaked more. There’s coffee all over his very white shirt. Grabbing the napkins, I furiously start mopping up the coffee on the table. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, squeezing his shirt in his fist to get out some of the dark liquid. “But you could have just said no.” My eyes shoot to his, and I must look pretty concerned because he shows me the palms of his hands. “Whoa, I am joking. Trying to lighten up the mood.”

I go back to cleaning, ignoring the scorching heat over my cheeks, and Mrs. Powdy joins with a sponge. She wipes the table and floor, even though I tell her I can do it, while Shane and I remain seated in an awkward silence. Well, Mrs. Powdy is speaking, but I’m not paying attention. My heart is hammering, and I’m trying to figure out what to do, what to say should he ask again.

When Mrs. Powdy leaves, I look up at him. “Mr. Hassholm, I’m so sorry.”

“You said that already. Everything’s fine, Heaven.” He dabs his damp shirt with a napkin. “And—call me Shane. I just asked you out, after all.”

“Right, Shane. Can I buy you another coffee?”

“No, really. I’m okay.”

I don’t know if he’s upset because I haven’t answered yet, or if he’s annoyed about the coffee. Maybe he’s as mortified as me, and he wants to leave. But I can’t let him go—not after he asked me out, and I attempted to melt him. “Do you want to stop by my apartment? You can clean up a little. I can try to get the stain off.”

“There’s no need. It’s an old shirt.”

“No, no,” I insist, getting up. My place is close, and Alex won’t be there until later today. I’ve called a cleaning company to come tidy up while I was away, since he seems unable to do it himself, so the apartment should be tidy too, and with my slightly obsessive minimalism, he won’t be able to tell a man’s living there. “It’ll take a minute. Wash up a little before you go home. Please, it’ll make me feel better.”

He stands too, drawing in a deep breath as he settles his deep gaze on me. “Okay, sure. Will you give me an answer, then?”

“Yes, I will,” I immediately agree.

I just...I don’t know what it’ll be.

Chapter15

The Answer

As soon aswe step into my apartment, I point Shane to the bathroom. He told me not to worry about it a thousand times already, but I feel guilty anyway. I’ve drenched him with coffee. Thankfully, it didn’t burn him.

And I don’t want to think about what he said right before that. He asked me out. He asked me out on a date, and I spilled coffee all over his clothes.

Now, he’s waiting for an answer that I can’t give him. Is there a way I can ask him to ask me again tomorrow? There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to say yes, but I technically still have a boyfriend.

As he enters the bathroom, I cup my face and wish I could disappear. What can I do to make it up to him? I could make coffee, but I don’t think he wants me anywhere near hot beverages right now.

The noise of water coming out of the faucet is audible despite the closed door, even with the way my heart’s beating out of my chest. With a frustrated groan, I drop myself onto the couch and grab my face between my hands when the front door opens.

Crap. Crap, crap,crap. That’s Alex. What’s he doing at home?

He enters the apartment and kicks his shoes off in the entrance, abandoning them on the welcome mat. “Hey, you’re back early,” he says, and when he hears the water going, he points at the restroom door. “Emma?”

---