Another sour look, and a grunting sound that might have been agreement.
I might have waltzed in here with the intention of making Steven jealous; now, with my arm around Harvey, he was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to go and get burgers with Harvey, and talk about childhood books and Christmas trivia, and pretend, just for a little while longer, that I didn’t need to go back to New York for any of the family’s bullshit at all.
It might not have been Christmas anywhere else in the world, but it was always Christmas in Christmas Falls, and for once I knew exactly what I wanted.
ten
HARVEY
“Well,” I said, when Steven finally stomped out of the museum with a face like he was sucking on a lemon, “I don’t think he’s going to ask me to get back together with him.”
Sterling arched a brow. “You can do better.”
“I already have,” I said. It was supposed to be a joke, but I knew it landed wrong when Sterling removed his arm from around me and put a couple of steps between us. “I made it weird, didn’t I? Sterling, I know you’re leaving soon, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t mean anything, right?”
He regarded me almost warily, as though he was afraid I was going to force him to express a feeling against his will. Between his buttoned-down emotional repression and my total lack of anything resembling it, it was amazing we connected on any level at all.
I plowed on. “I like you a lot, and I don’t think either of us should pretend there’s nothing her, just because it’ll be over in a few more days. That seems weird to me. If I like you, why shouldn’t I say it out loud? Shit. Am I making it even weirder?”
Sterling’s mouth quirked. “Maybe?”
That meant definitely, but I didn’t mind much because he clearly didn’t either.
“Anyway, the point is, I don’t think Steven will be bothering me much from now on.”
“Has he bothered you before?”
I wrinkled my nose. “It’s really weird. Like, firstly, I thought we were dating, but it turns out he was just cheating on his boyfriend.” I tried to keep my voice steady when I said that, but it was hard. I hated that Steven had made me a part of that. I hated that I’d missed the warning signs because I’d been so swept off my feet by Steven and his bullshit. “You’d think that since we were never really a thing, he wouldn’t give a shit that I don’t want to speak to him again, right? But when I found out, it was like he couldn’t see what the big deal was, and why I was so pissed. It wasworking, I guess, from his point of view, and it would still be working if I wanted it to. And he’s not wrong about that. But I’m not a cheater. I mean, I guess I kind of was?—”
“Not if you didn’t know,” Sterling cut in. “He was the cheater, not you.”
“I know. Iknow. But I still feel bad about it. How does it make sense that I feel worse about it than he does?”
“It makes perfect sense, because you’re not an asshole. He is.” He tilted his head, watching me intently as though to make certain his words were sinking in. He must have seen something in my expression that reassured him, because he gave me a soft smile. “I wasn’t kidding about lunch, by the way. I’d love to take you out to eat.”
“And I would love to let you take me out to eat, except Martha isn’t back yet.”
I was technically Martha’s boss, but I wasn’t a hard-ass or anything like that. Last year, we had to watch a video about workplace culture. Not just us; everyone who was employed by the town. And I’d learned that what we had happening at the museum was called culture slip. As in, we’d started out very professionally, but now we slipped in and out all day wheneverwe felt like it. But also, it seemed like the sort of problem I didn’t want to fix. If I started timing all of Martha’s lengthy breaks, she might stop covering for me when I wanted to go book shopping in the middle of the day or needed to dash out to get some emergency gingerbread. Or when I wanted to drive all over town helping my not-boyfriend track down his missing uncle. Our system worked for us.
“When is she due back?”
“‘Due’ is the wrong word for our workplace situation here,” I said. “Tell you what, how would you feel about a museum picnic? We can set up a blanket in front of the mechanical Santa—” I blinked at his expression. “Or somewhere else. The back room is nice and quiet. I just have to move the elf because I don’t want that creepy little guy watching me while I’m eating.”
“A museum picnic.” He sounded amused and dubious at the same time.
“Yeah, there’s a cheese board in the refrigerator.”
“You have a cheese board in your refrigerator at work?”
“Well, I have a collection of various cheeses that I have acquired at different times, which I can place on a single plate, yes,” I said. “Plus, I have crackers in my desk drawer.”
At that moment, the door to the corridor opened, and Martha stepped inside the museum. She peered at us from underneath her quilted hood. “Harvey, come and give me a hand with my shopping, would you?”
I hurried forward to help her.
“Thank God,” Sterling said. “Not that a museum picnic doesn’t sound great...”
I took Martha’s tote bag from her. “But?”