Page 131 of The Fiancée Farce
Gemma.
Tansy slammed the register shut with a little too much gusto, nearly jamming the drawer, biting her lip to fight back tears.
What was the point of having all this money if it meant feeling like this? Like a part of her had been brutally ripped out, like a part was missing, a part she hadn’t even known existed until she didn’t have it anymore.
Money could do plenty, but she doubted it could buy her a new heart. That it could heal the pieces of the one she still had, battered and broken as it was.
She didn’t understand. Yes, Gemma had upheld her end of the bargain, proving without a shadow of a doubt that she had more integrity in her little finger than all the Van Dalens combined, save for maybe Brooks.
But therein lay the problem. Tansy didn’t want their relationship to be about bargains or keeping score.
She just wanted Gemma.
“Hey, Tansy?” Kat laid a careful hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Don’t I seem fine?”
Finewas a funny word. If she said it frequently enough, it stopped sounding like a real word at all and started sounding like nonsense.
“You’re sort of shredding that roll of receipt paper, so it made me think maybe you weren’t.” Kat cringed. “You know,fine.”
Oh. Tansy dropped the roll onto the counter beside the register. “Whoops.”
“Hey, here’s an idea.” Kat grabbed Tansy by the shoulders and began walking her toward the back of the store. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and I can work the register?”
What? No way. Tansy tried to turn, but Kat blocked her path. “I amfine, Kat.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re sad and it’s making me sad and it’s bad for business.”
Her jaw dropped. “How is it bad for business? No one knows I’m sad. I’m—”
“Fine, yes, I heard you the first twenty times.” Kat shooed her in the direction of the stairs. “People who are fine don’t shred the receipt paper. People who are fine don’t slam registers shut. People who are fine don’t forget to tell customers to have a nice day.”
“I did no such thing!”
“You told the last person you rang up tohave a day. Not a nice day; just a day.”
Tansy crossed her arms. “The sentiment was there. I just misspoke. Big whoop.”
“Tansy, sweetheart, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but I have this terrible feeling that you’re the human equivalent of a volcano. You might look fine on the surface, but it’s only a matter of time before you blow, and as your very faithful friend and employee who loves this store dearly, I don’t want to have to clean it up, notifbutwhenyou blow. Okay?”
She wrinkled her nose, letting Kat steer her up the stairs to the first landing. “I am a professional, Kat. There will be no blowing.”
Kat sighed. “Maybe there should be some blowing. Just not around the customers or the merchandise.” She smiled tightly, rubbing Tansy’s arm. “Go take a nap or watch a movie. Wallow or eat a metric fuckton of chocolate or, I don’t know, punch a pillow. Just take the day, okay? I’ve got it handled down here.”
“If you need anything—”
“I know where to find you. Now,go.” Kat turned, apparently trusting Tansy to make it the rest of the way up the stairs on her own.
No sooner had Tansy let herself into her apartment than her doorbell rang. She threw open the door and—
“Katherine?”
“Tansy, hi.” She twisted her hands together. “Do you have a minute?”
She’d been through hell already; might as well add insult to injury and really revel in the misery.
“Sure, why not?” She stepped aside, waving Katherine inside. “Can I get you something to drink?”
