Page 67 of Trusting You
“Going back to what? Gainful employment?”
He stared at me blankly, as though he was shocked by my behavior. What had gotten into him?
“I’m not going back to anything. I’m going to an interview to learn more about a potential opportunity. I thought as my friend you would be happy for me.”
He crossed his arms and glared at me. So I kept talking.
“I am evaluating my options. I am learning more. This is what I want. And you don’t get to tell me what to do. This is the first job in a while that interests me. And I am sure as hell going to go and see if it’s a good fit.”
“I know you, Cece. You will hate it.”
“Maybe I will. But that’s for me to decide. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I want. You don’t know what’s best for me.”
He looked defeated. “You’re right. I have no idea what you want.” I suddenly got the feeling we weren’t talking about this job anymore.
“I came to Havenport to figure my life out, and that’s what I’m doing. If you don’t want to be a good friend and support me, then get the fuck out of my way.” I was pissed. He could not come in here and alpha male all over my career. If I wanted to go to an interview, I would go.
Sensing the intensity of my rage, all the anger drained from his face.
“Cecelia, I am sorry. So sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I know we agreed you would work here until the end of the year, and you deserve to pursue any career opportunities you want. If you’re excited, then I’m excited.”
What? That was a total one-eighty. What is going on with him? Why won’t he talk to me? Maybe I should talk to him? Tell him why I’m really going.
He paced around, not saying anything. I wanted to slap him and then hug him, preferably in that order.
“It just feels like you are trying to run away.”
“Going to a job interview is not running away, Liam.”
“You packed up all your stuff—at my apartment the other night—like you were never coming back.”
“I live out of a suitcase at my mother’s house, Liam. I don’t have that much stuff. What does it matter where I keep it?”
“It matters to me.”
I threw my hands up. “Why, Liam? This is casual, remember?” I gestured between the two of us.This is what he wants. He told me he didn’t have time for anything serious. He was honest that the brewery comes first.I was lashing out at him because I was upset. I would love to have an honest conversation and talk about our feelings, but the mixed signals I was getting from him were making my head spin.
“This was never casual for me,” he said. The words hung in the air, and I didn’t know how to respond. On the one hand he had said the words I’d been needing to hear for weeks. On the other, why couldn’t he just grow up and talk to me? “I need to go set up for senior night,” he grumbled. And he walked out the door without another word.
I walked over and sat back down at my laptop. What had just happened? Liam and I occasionally argued, but nothing like this. Did he think he could control me? This was a casual relationship. He had never asked for more. He had never indicated that he had anything beyond casual feelings for me. He couldn’t walk in here and tell me not to pursue a promising new job.
I had spent the last few weeks wrapping my mind around staying in Havenport and making a life here. I wanted to stick. I wanted to be a part of this community. But getting my heart stomped on by Liam Assface Quinn was making me want to jump in my car and speed off into the sunset.
I knew my feelings were messy right now, but I had not expected Liam’s would be messy too. I hated messy. I had to figure out how to clean this up.
37
Liam
“N 45. I repeat, N 45.”
“Bingo!” The crowd groaned as Joe from the diner won another round. Apparently he was some kind of bingo genius. His wife Jackie laid a huge kiss on his mouth, and everyone groaned again. I knew I was a fool in love when their constant hot and cold antics seemed sweet instead of weird to me.
Bingo night was shaping up to be one of the most rowdy nights in brewery history. We had drawn a huge crowd. Over one hundred seniors were wall to wall in the taproom, drinking beer and munching on charcuterie boards and bingo-themed sweets Cecelia had ordered. It was wild. People had come from surrounding towns, apparently excited for this type of event. I learned quickly that the elderly took their bingo very seriously.
Mel, the bingo man, or whatever the hell he was called, wore a tuxedo and was an incredible master of ceremonies. He entertained, called numbers, learned people’s names, and kept the crowd engaged. We were selling lots of beer and food, and a few months ago I would have never imagined this type of crowd on a Wednesday.
As happy as I was about business, I was still reeling from my argument with Cece. I had acted like such as asshole, and I felt badly about it. But at the same time, I was right. How could she just go out and interview without even telling me? I mean, technically she told me, but before that she hadn’t even mentioned she was looking for a job in Boston. I got blindsided and reacted badly.
