Page 13 of Hold Me Instead
“Is Daniel okay?” she asked.
Zachary straightened, the concern in her voice gutting him. “Yes. But I’m going to fill in for him. Here. Starting this week.” Firm, to the point.No need for emotions to get involved.
“We have Monday and Tuesday covered,” she replied, voice thin.
“Great. I’ll start Wednesday.”
She glanced at Maura, who was busy cooing over a family’s bumblebee toddler and their matching golden retriever. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Charlie said.
He stepped toward her, his over half a foot difference in height causing her head to tip back. She widened her stance and put her hands on her hips. Slid them down her sides. Then crossed her arms.
“Look,” he said. It took less effort than expected to soften his voice. “You’re in a bind. Let me help out until stuff settles. We both know things only get busier with the holidays. It’ll be even harder to find someone available on short notice.”
She turned her head, probably to decide how to tell him to "shove it" amid children, but suddenly, Maura gripped both their arms, whipped open the half-door by the front desk, and shoved them behind it.
“Charlie, we’re low on candy. Would you mind grabbing the extra bags I stashed in the kitchen? Take Zachary with you so you can sort out details. It’s so wonderful having you home.” Maura smiled at him and tossed her hands in a shooing motion.
He started to walk, but stepped on Charlie’s heels. She hopped forward and gifted him a deadly scowl, and he raised his hands in apology. A huff and a whole lot of muttering poured from her as she turned and hustled down the narrow, dimly lit hallway, cackles and howls carrying from a speaker in the back.
Zachary followed to the small staff kitchenette. It was as outdated as he remembered, with pairs of plain, orange-hued oak cabinets above, and below, a small white tile countertop. Peeling black-and-white laminate flooring was bathed in a green glow from an illuminated skull set atop the fridge, but he barely registered that before realizing Charlie was bending forward and reaching so far into the lower cabinets, he was sure she’d find Narnia.
He shook his head slightly when he realized she was still muttering to herself, guaranteed it had to do with him and not how far she had to search for that candy, with her nicely rounded ass in the air.
He slammed his eyes closed and turned toward the doorway as though he’d caught her stripping. Thenthatidea raced through his mind, and suddenly, the kitchenette was stiflingly warm. This was Charlie, an old friend. He knew her when she was basically a kid. Not that their three-year difference was significant anymore.
“Maura’s got quite a grip on her,” he landed on.Yes,neutral territory.That’s good.Just stoplookingat Charlie.He swallowed.Was my voice lower than normal?
The cabinet door smacked shut, followed by a cool breeze as Charlie brushed past him.
He smirked, the chill in her demeanor not what he was used to from her, but certainly a distraction he was interested in seeing. In only a few strides, he caught up and landed in the office she shared with his dad.
Huh. That was something he hadn’t considered in his hasty decision to work here. Seeing her day-to-day was one thing, but knowing they’d have lumps of time where they’d be crammed in this tiny room together…He couldn’t decipher the odd jolt of energy it sent through him.
She closed the door, muffling Halloween tunes and sugar-filled shrieks.
He looked around the cramped room. Two solid wood desks were positioned under windows on adjacent walls, ensuring plenty of chair collisions. Both computers cycled through screensavers of pets in costumes, and the plain white window shades were drawn so the lamps draped in cheesecloth cast an eerie glow. There were piles of boxes stacked in the corners, and around one desk in particular—his father’s.
He sighed. “Dad’s still doing this with the files?”
Charlie plopped the bags of candy on her desk, then turned to face him. “This is actually better than it was,” she said, arms crossed again.
“Better?” Zachary looked around the room in disbelief. Veterinary magazines were strewn on top of a few boxes, papers onandin between them. Never files for the patients, his dad would assure him. “Just financial bullshit,I know where everything is,” he’d say. It made Zachary’s chest tighten.
“Please tell me he’s had someone sort the important stuff,” Zachary muttered.
Charlie stared at Daniel’s desk, brow furrowed. He waited.
“You working here. It’s obviously temporary,” she said finally.
“Obviously.” He could’ve toned down some of his disgust.
Her eyes jumped to his. “No one’s forcing you to do this.”
He held up a hand with a small nod of apology. “I’m here to help.”
A beat of silence, then, “Tomorrow, noon. We’ll meet while I’m on lunch.”
“I can come in the morning, stay for the day.”
