Page 56 of Jessica's Hero
His gaze moves up and down my body, lingering on my breasts before returning to my face. “I am. But the guy who covers downstate is out on paternity leave. So the company is making everyone else cover for him until he’s back.”
I breathe a silent sigh of relief. Brian’s a medicalsupplies sales rep, which is how I met him at the lab I used to work at in Albany. Even though I’m more than over him, I’d prefer not to have to see his face once a month when he shows up trying to sell our director something.
“Well, it’s a surprise,” I say honestly. “I hope everything is going well for you.” Which is significantly less truthful.
Brian glances at the flowers in my hand. “From a patient?”
“No.” My smile is tight. “Flowers from my boyfriend.”
Surprise flares in his eyes. “Oh. I didn’t realize you?—”
“Were dating someone?” My voice takes on a sharp edge. “Why would you? It’s not like we talk. Or even follow each other online.”
In fact, I haven’t spoken to Brian in over ten years. Not since my twenty-fifth birthday. Not since the night when he cruelly informed me that no, he wouldn’t be bringing me out to celebrate my birthday with his friends, because, in his words,“I have a reputation to uphold, Jess. Some of those friends are clients. References. If I show up with a girl who looks like you… well, what does that say about me?”
“Well.” His gaze sweeps across me again, leaving a clinging, oily sensation behind. “I’ll probably be back in Sleepy Hollow again in a couple of weeks. So if things don’t work out with this guy, maybe we can go out for a drink.”
My mouth actually drops. Is he for real? After what he did, he thinks I’d go out with him? Not to mention, I literally just said I’m dating someone.
The last, lingering remnants of hurt burn away as anger rushes through me. My spine stiffens. My shoulders set. “No,” I bite out. “We cannotgo out for a drink. I’mwith someone. It’s serious. And even if I wasn’t, I would never, ever go out with you.”
Brian blinks. “What?—”
But I’m done. “Next time you’re here, don’t come looking for me. Don’t talk to me. We have nothing to say to each other. Deal with your sales stuff and leave me alone.”
His face clouds. “Jess. Are you still angry about?—”
“No.” I take a few steps backward. “There’s nothing to talk about. Now, I have work to do. I’d suggest you do the same.”
Then I turn my back on Brian and walk away. And as I continue down the hallway, my anger fades, replaced by a sense of accomplishment.
I stood up for myself. Faced the man who seemed like such a monster back then, but in reality is just a sleaze. And I didn’t feel nervous about it. I didn’t care if I upset him. I just did what felt right. And I feel pretty good about it.
The rest of the way to my office, the feeling of pride builds. Yes, I’m aware it was just a little thing. And I didn’t say half the things I could have, like how awful he was back then and how slimy I think he still is. But for me? It’s an accomplishment.
As I walk into my closet slash office—it’s tiny but all mine, thanks to my recent promotion—my spirits lift even further. Sitting on my desk is a shoebox sized package with my name on it, wrapped all in silver paper and decorated with a matching fabric bow. I’m not sure how Kane got this in here without me noticing, unless…
Ah. He must have asked Oliver to do it. Oliver who was allegedly in the patrol car but must have snuck inthrough the back to drop it off. Technically, we’re not supposed to allow visitors in through the rear exits, but if Oliver asked, dressed in his uniform, I’m sure anyone who works here would have let him in.
I approach my desk with a smile that hurts my cheeks. Although I keep telling Kane he doesn’t need to buy me gifts all the time, he always says how much he enjoys it and how he loves making me smile. I almost text him right away to tell him I found the present, and that yes, I am smiling, but then I reconsider. I’ll open it first, and then text him. Take a picture of whatever gift he bought, maybe even wearing it, depending on what he chose.
Not for a second do I consider it being from someone else. It wouldn’t make sense. Thea wouldn’t send me a present like this. Neither would Nora. It has to be from Kane.
Except.
When I open the box, I’m not met with sheets of colorful tissue paper, but crumpled up newspaper instead.
The first of my inner alarm bells rings.
But it’s just newspaper. Maybe the place Kane bought it from is trying to be environmentally friendly. Maybe they think old newspaper is more creative.
A little more slowly, I pull out the paper to reveal a stuffed bear looking up at me from inside. He’s cute, a little roly-poly guy with an embroidered face and button eyes. I reach for him, smiling as I imagine Kane picking the bear out at Greta’s Goodies, the new gift shop in town.
Then I grab the soft fabric and a stab of pain bites into my hand.
I yelp in surprise, dropping the bear onto my desk. Adrop of crimson follows, splashing onto the smooth wooden surface.
It’s blood. From the fresh cut on my palm. But how?
