Page 34 of Middle Ground
Normally, I’d be telling him to shove it—I can handle myself, thank you very much—but this uncharacteristic reaction from Reggie has admittedly frayed my nerves.A certified, ice cold bitch. Is that true? Is that really how people see me?
I try to be a good person. A kind person. I know I’m not the most open and inviting all the time, but am I truly that bad? Reggie apparently thinks so. Do the rest of my employees feel that way, too?
“You know what? I’m sick of this shit anyway. It’s only a matter of time before this place runs itself into the ground now that Beatrice is gone,” Reggie says, shoving out of his chair.
Calling me a bitch, although a bit jarring, I can handle.Kind of. But sticking a hot fireplace poker right into the heart of my biggest fear? That has me second-guessing every decision I’ve made in all of my twenty-five years. I suddenly feel very, very small.
“Out,” Jackson barks. “Now.”
I hold my head high, staring at Reggie. Or rather, Jackson’s back. He shifts slightly, shielding me from the disgruntled employee.Exemployee. Admittedly, I’m grateful.
When Reggie finally decides to heed Jackson’s command, the sound of the door slamming in his wake is enough to reanimate the dead. A framed picture, formerly on the wall, plummets to its death from the force. My chin wobbles.
“Well, that sucked,” I say. My nose stings as I blink back the tears. “But c’est la vie and all that.”
“Ellison…”
I grab the computer mouse and start to mindlessly click around on the monitor, unseeing. “He stole money from the restaurant. I had to do it.”
Jackson nods. “You did the right thing, but?—”
“Okay. Good.” My shoulders lift in a shrug. “Then I’m just gonna get back to work now.”
“Meyer,” he says. His voice takes on a softness I haven’t heard from him before. “Are you alright?”
I sniffle, working to clear my throat and stop my nose from running. My eyes are also still threatening to leak, a fact I find very annoying.
For fuck’s sake, Meyer. No crying in front of your business partner! You can't show weakness.
My palm clenches around the mouse. “I’m fine," I manage to get out. “Just…something inmy eye.”
Silence settles over us, though I can still hear the sound of that door slamming. Then Jackson takes a step closer to me and I brace for what he’s going to say.
Reggie’s right. You’ve been nothing but a bitch to me since I got here. Maybe you should let me buy you out and be done with it. The inn will be better off without you.
“You’re allowed to find that difficult,” he says instead. “Anyone would.”
He says that, but I have a feeling he would have had no issue coming in here and telling Reggie to pack his things. He wouldn’t have even thought twice about it. Partially because he hasn’t known Reggie for years like I have, but also because he’s frustratingly composed when it comes to work.
“Don’t patronize me, Vaughan,” I snap. And then I turn away from him, staring down at the desk in front of me to keep the tears at bay.
I sense Jackson approaching me slowly, but I don’t look in his direction. Don’t bother to lash out and demand he stay away. And when he kneels beside my chair and turns my head toward him, hand on my chin, I don’t stop him. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.
“I’m not trying to patronize you, I promise.” His gaze searches mine. “I’m notjudgingyou, Ellison. I haven’t yet, and I’m not about to start now.”
For some reason, I think I believe him.
“I’m okay,” I finally get out. “Thank you for…kicking him out.”
Jackson nods, releasing my chin and then standing, putting space between us. “Of course. I won’t tolerate anyone speaking to you like that. It was uncalled for.”
But what if he was right?
I bite my tongue. Maybe he hasn’t been judging me, but other people certainly are. Reggie has proven that. Still, I don’t need to get into all of it with Jackson. I can stew about it tonight in the comfort of my bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to do this?” Jackson asks. “I would’ve been here.”
The unspoken words hang between us. If I hadn’t been so petty as to unplug his alarm clock, he would have been here. He truly did look like death last night, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone—I’d get him out of my way for a whileandforce him to catch up on the sleep he so desperately needs but seems to be resisting.
