Page 21 of Until Next Time
I swing open the door and take in Dawsen sitting at his desk. He didn’t bother to look up when I walked in.
“Have a seat.” He says, still without looking up. I take up a seat in the corner of the sofa and cross my leg over my knee. Feeling a little awkward because he still is messing with the papers on his desk and has yet to visually acknowledge me.
“What did Max want?” He asks gruffly. Still without looking up.
“Uhh, what?” I’m a little caught off guard with why he cares, yet a small part of me is kind of loving that it seems like he cares.
“Max. I saw him talking to you earlier this evening. What did he want?” He asked again, almost more firmly this time.
I stand up and walk towards his desk. If he’s going to ask me personal questions under the guise of being my boss, he’s at least going to have to look at me while he does. So I wave my hand between his face and the papers on his desk. He looks up at me with an annoyed expression on his face. I think he got the picture because he straightened up and then leaned back in his chair and waved his hand as if for me to answer him now.
“It would seem that Max wanted to take me on a date.” I say, jutting my chin up at him proudly.
“Why?” He asks, looking at me dead on.
I scoff, “Wow, thanks Daws. Just because I’m notyourtype doesn’t mean I’m not someone else’s.” I say, ego bruised by his bluntness.
“That’s not what I meant, Birdie. He’s just kind of a player. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I’m suddenly very irritated aboutthis whole conversation. This guy has the gall to call me into his office and imply that he doesn’t want me dating someone because he doesn’t want me to get hurt, when he’s been the one hurting me for years. Albeit, he doesn’t know that, but I do, and it’s all stinging in my face really bad right now. I need to compose myself so I don’t melt right into the floor. Suddenly the tips of my ears feel burning hot, and my skin feels all prickly.
“I’ll take my chances. Thanks for the concern though. Is there anything else you needed? Or did you just want to tell me who I shouldn’t be dating?” I ask before turning out the door.
“Did you park down the street today?” He asks, completely changing the subject.
“Yes. But only because of my tardiness, there weren’t any spots up front.” I say, annoyed.
“I’m going to walk you to your car. It’s dark. Don’t fight me on this.” He says as he shuffles the stack of papers on his desk and then turns off his desk lamp. I follow him out of his office and Greg and Savannah have already closed up and went home for the night. We’re about to walk out the front doors when he says, “Ahh, wait up one sec.” He does a little jog back to the tasting counter and reaches behind the counter, grabbing a bottle of wine. He shuffles back up to the front and hands me the bottle.
“I put this aside for you earlier. I thought you’d want to try this one. It’s kind of like the Norton you like, but a little smoother.” I reach out and take the bottle, looking over the label as I slide it into my bag, feeling confused.
“Oh, wow. Thanks. That’s really nice of you.” He gives me a tight lipped smile and opens the door.
I follow him out and we walk in silence for a few beats.
“Sorry about coming off like a dick back there.” Dawsen says, his voice laced with hesitation.
I let out a quick chuckle. “Yeah, what’s up with the big brother treatment?”
He chuffs out a faint laugh. “It’s not like that. I like Max, as a dude, but I don’t love his reputation. I guess I just wanted to warn you. I think he’s kind of an ass when it comes to women.” He admits, hands in his pockets. I’m looking at his profile as we walk, the streetlights catching his breathy exhales in the cool night air.
“I’ve not dated much.” I admit, somberly and sort of embarrassed honestly.
Dawsen pauses his steps and looks at me.
“Yeah? Why not?” His voice is lighter now, kind of the way it used to sound when we were just kids in my parents basement.
“I guess I’m a bit odd. I think guys like that as a novelty. But not to really take seriously.” I admit. Having this sort of self awareness can hurt my own feelings sometimes.
Dawsen takes a deep breath, and sighs.
“Birdie, you’re not a novelty, and if a guy makes you feel that way, then fuck him. He doesn’t even deserve to be in your presence, let alone in your heart.”
There’s something in the way his brows furrowed and looked so tense as he was saying those words to me. Almost like it hurt him too.
“Thank you for saying that.” I say, feeling a little pathetic. I want Dawsen to think I’m confident. Unshakable when it comes to peoples’ opinions of me. But sometimes I crack, and let it get to me.
We approach my car and he juts out in front of me and opens my door for me. I just look at him and smile softly. I throw my bag across into my passenger seat and then take my seat behind the wheel. I’m looking up at him now, as he grabs the top of my door and it looks like he wants to say something, and he huffs out a quiet sigh, “Drive safe, Bird.”
“Goodnight, Daws.” And then he pushes the door shut.
