Page 34 of Small Sacrifices

He sighs. "I ran into him after work on Friday. Literally ran into him and crushed a box of donuts he had. I brought him a substitute today as an apology. He insisted on sharing." There. That's good, isn't it?

"But you don't eat donuts." Marisol furrows her brows before her eyes go wide. "Wait, did you eat donuts? Did you—"

"No, I ate my own lunch that I brought. I told him I didn't want any." Reid should've known that she'd remember the donut thing. She'd tried to give him one on his first day, as a sort of welcome gift. He'd felt so bad saying no, but she just took it in stride.

"Aw. You didn't eat donuts for him?" There's mirth twinkling in her eyes, and Reid feels like he's missing something.

"I don't eat donutsforanybody. That doesn't make sense."

"Of course it doesn't. Don't mind me." She flicks at an imperceptible piece of lint on her burgundy blazer. "I thought you hated him."

There's something off about the way she's not making eye contact with Reid. Ordinarily, he'd feel relieved. It's not like he wants her to look into his eyes constantly. But she's now inspecting her perfect manicure for chips that aren't there. She's doingsomething,and he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't like it.

"I thought he was rude," he says weakly. She's still not looking at him. What is he supposed to do with that?

"And now you know he isn't?"

"Now I know he can try not to be." When he wants to. The question is why would he want to? Absolutely nothing depends on Reid having a good impression of him. He could've just takenthe donuts and pretended to forget about Friday. Maybe Reid would've even preferred that, who knows. His stomach does something weird when he remembers the careful smile Everett aimed at him.

Marisol snorts. "Sounds like him. God, he must've been a holy terror when he was a teen. Can you imagine? He's a snack, and he knows it. Unless he was one of the really awkward ones."

Reid can't picture Everett being awkward. But after witnessing his interaction with Officer McNaulty, he can easily imagine the chaos a young Everett might have caused if he'd wanted to. He nods in agreement.

That's all it takes for Marisol to pounce. Reid didn't even know she was looking at him again—but he certainly does when she says, "Oh, so you agree that he's attractive?"

"By the parameters that I know of, yes." What kind of question is that? How is it relevant? He has a strong feeling that this has nothing to do with work. Should they even be talking about it here, then? A furtive glance around the office shows him that most of their colleagues have their heads down over their work again.

"And what parameters would those be?" There's a syrupy sort of amusement coating her voice, and he doesn't know what to do with that. So he just thinks and answers the question.

"Well, he's reasonably symmetrical, and he's tall and muscular." He's also got a very nice smile that makes his eyes crinkle, but that's more subjective. Reid doesn't know if other people would perceive it the same.

Marisol's mouth curls into a grin. She silently mouths"Reasonably symmetrical?"as a colleague passes by.

Frowning at Marisol, Reid waits until everyone is out of earshot before asking, "Isn't symmetry a thing? I thought people liked symmetrical faces."

"I mean, we probably do." Marisol rubs her forehead. "But I was expecting you to say something more likehe's really hot and he's got a spectacular ass."

Reid doesn't think he's ever looked at Everett's butt. "That doesn't sound like me."

She sighs. "No, you're right. Sorry." There's a moment of hesitation. "He does have a spectacular ass, though, if you don't mind me saying."

Reid's face is burning. "By all means."

How did he end up in this conversation? He doesn't know how to navigate it—especially when Marisol gives a satisfied nod and returns to her pie chart-laden report. Has she dismissed him? Or does she think the conversation is over? He's not sure.

He wishes Marisol hadn't mentioned that last bit. It's hard to focus on drafting a response to an angry parent about their sick child while trying to remember if he's ever seen Everett's backside. What makes a butt spectacular, anyway? And why are people contacting him now about the healthcare fund? He isn't even responsible for that.

The rest of Reid's workday passes uneventfully. Without a new task of his own, he continues summarizing materials for Marisol. This time, though, he doesn't uncover anything significant. When he finally heads home—punctually, thank you very much—he notices that Mr. Wright still hasn't reached out about the profiles. Reid hopes this is a good sign, perhaps indicating that everything is in order.

At home, he makes himself a nice soup with plenty of fresh vegetables in it. Briana usually calls it Asian fusion when he cooks like this, but Reid prefers to think of it as cooking whatever he wants, and this time, it has glass noodles and soy sauce in it. There isn't even a recipe.

If Everett can cook, then maybe what he cooks isAsian fusion.And couldn't one say thatEverettis—Reid abandons thethought before it makes him feel too stupid. Who even says that if Everetthasin fact learned how to cook, he knows how to cook traditional Japanese dishes? It seems that his mother is constantly busy with her charities and speaking engagements. Reid isn't too sure that she'd have had the time to teach her children to cook in the last few years.

He wraps himself into a blanket cocoon on his sofa and eats the soup folded in half, with his thighs almost touching his chest and the bowl balanced between his knees. Enjoying the crunch of vegetables, he tries his best not to wonder what he did wrong to make Everett run off like that.

Eventually, Reid's calm gets interrupted by the scheduled call with his parents. But his day was relaxed enough that the challenge is easy to master. Reid wastes as much time as he can with easy chatter. About Marisol, about his squeaky office chair, about the swanky patio furniture he ate his lunch on today.

It's a deliberate decision not to mention Everett, even though his parents would probably love to hear that he ate lunch with someone. As long as he doesn't mention Everett, Reid won't accidentally say anything about Friday. That's the worst thing he could do in this scenario.

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