Page 45 of Interpreter

“You brought me lunch?”

I turn around just in time to see Tim passing over a brown bag to Ms. Peak.

“Technically, Breck made you lunch.”

I see another bag in his hand. How did I miss that?

“I’m sorry for intruding on your lunch hour.”

The older woman pulls out an array of food that, Breck, who must be someone at the foundation, cooked. “Let’s eat, and then we’ll play.”

Tim tips his chin and heads back to the desk where Oliver and I have our lunches spread out between us. That tall body folds into the chair next to me, setting his crayon-decorated bag in front of him.

“That was sweet of you,”I sign.

It was, even if it makes me a little bit jealous, which is stupid because he asked me to come today. I didn’t chase him down or eat alone in my room. The headache actually asked me to come. That’s progress, right?

Without responding, Tim finishes pulling everything out of his bag and then sets a cherry tart in front of me and then one in front of Oliver.

I just stare at the beautifully wrapped tart in front of me, and then he plops a bag of mint M&M’s between us. My eyes go wide as I put my hand on the bag like some kind of druggie. His hand startles me when he yanks it from me. “This dessert is mine. You liked the tart, remember?”

I eye the bag in his hand. Is it really his dessert? I don’t know that I’ve ever told him that I love mint M&M’s, so maybe he really does like them? But then when he opens his quinoa and avocado salad, I remember his “refined sugars and crap” speech.

“You’re lying,” I accuse, and really, what for? Am I that desperate to have an M&M? Why, yes, I think I am.

“Tell me why you have eight bags in your desk, and I’ll let you have it.”

See? I knew it was for me.

I sigh, taking a look around to be sure Oliver and Ms. Peak are happily eating. “Because I can’t get mint M&M’s in Costa Rica, and since I’m here on a work visa, I never know when I may have to go without them.” I shrug. “So I make sure I eat a few,” or a bag, “every day.” God help me, I shrug one more time and then add like a total idiot, “Mint M&M’s make me happy.”

They make me freaking happy. Have you ever? No wonder I can’t keep a man. It’s not my crazy that runs them off; it’s the ridiculous shit that comes out of my mouth.

Tim slides the package across the desk. “I might have bought this to replace the bag I ate yesterday.”

Gasping, I clutch at my chest. “You ate my M&M’s?” Why do I sound like I’m about to murder his ass? Oh, because I am. No one touches my M&M’s.

A stupid smirk plants itself on his stubbly face, looking all kinds of sexy when he says, “You ate my tart. Now, we’re even.”

We are so far from even, but that’s okay. At least he will survive another day.

Felipe is watching a bad eighties exercise tape when I finally fall into one of the leather chairs. His eyes flash over the bag at my feet. “How goes the job hunt? I see you made it to the mall.”

A whining noise that I meant to be silent, bubbles out. “Don’t judge me, Pe. It was a long day, and after the last, ‘Sorry, sweetie, we’re not hiring,’ I gave up and drowned my sorrows in the clearance rack.”

His eyebrow arches. “How clearance?”

Groaning, my head falls back. “Fine,” I whine. “I lied. It was full price. But, Pe!”

Felipe’s rumbling laughter draws closer until his spandex-covered ass squeezes into the chair with me. “Stop worrying, Mami. You have time.”

“I don’t. I don’t have time, Pe. Do you realize how long it took me to find a job here in the first place? Almost a year!”

Pe’s face twitches under the fluorescent lights. “Work for me then. You can man the bar until you can find something else.”

I wave him off. “You can’t afford another employee and besides, you have Marcus for the bar. He does a great job.”

Pe nods but his face is forlorn. He knows I’m right. I would jeopardize his business by adding an extra strain to his already tight payroll. I know he’s trying to be a good friend, and I really appreciate his offer, but I can’t do that to him. It’s an unfortunate situation that will now affect my ability to help out my mami and abuelita.

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