Page 59 of It's Always Been You
All at once, I understand what He’s saying. He’s asking me if He’s enough. He’s asking if Evie never came around, would His love for me be enough?
My head saysYes, Lord,but my heart resists, dragging its feet.
Despite that, I’m feeling a renewed sense of hope because God is ever gracious with me. I head to the lobby, mentally preparing myself for another round of mental gymnastics and walking on eggshells with my infuriatingly stubborn assistant.
Evie is standing behind the front desk, her arm lifted over her head in a stretch. She’s watching a silent pharmaceutical ad on the TV above the lobby couch. When she spots me entering the area behind the front desk—an area she has deemedherspace—her nose pinches in distaste.
Resisting the urge to sigh, I head to the back counter and pretend to organize a stack of papers while I try to find a way to break the ice. Her attention returns to the TV.
Food seems like a safe topic. “Evie, have you thought about what you want for lunch?”
“I brought my lunch,” she replies curtly, her gaze still fixed on the ad.
“You can save it for tomorrow. Lunch is on me today. I was thinking Italian, from Little Italy down the road? I can go pick it up.”
She faces me with a frown and props her hands on her hips. I resist a grin. She’s adorable. Today, she’s wearing a plaid skirt with a hem line barely long enough to be considered appropriate. I wouldn’t dare mention it, though—not unless I wanted to get slapped. On her top half, she’s wearing a cream sweater with a dangerously low neckline. My eyes linger on her decolletage, mesmerized by the way her felt choker hugs her smooth, sun-kissed skin.
“I’m not interested in your pathetic attempt at sucking up to me, Brandon,” she gripes. “So, no, thanks. I’ll eat my own lunch today.” She turns and resumes her stretch.
I smirk. When she’s like this, all pouty and prickly like a cute, harmless porcupine, I can’t help but mess with her head. It’s a major flaw—one I will probably have to work on correcting for the rest of my life. “Fine.” I jot my order down on a sticky note, then stick it to her clavicle. Her shoulder rocks from the force of my touch, and she stumbles back, glaring at me before glancing at the note I’ve planted on her.
She rips the sticky note from her chest and reads it. “This is two meals.”
“Congratulations, Spitfire. You can count. One meal, two.” I say that last part like I’m reading from a Doctor Seuss book. “One for me, and one for Gladys. And nothing for you.” I boop her nose.
Her cheeks go pink, and it makes me chuckle. I know I’m playing with fire teasing her like this, especially after yesterday. But I took the wrong approach before. I was afraid that if we acted too comfortable around each other, that it would devolve into flirting. However, remaining aloof is not going to work. Clearly. It’s just not my style, and Evie’s self-esteem is too fragile. Plus, she wouldn’t let me touch her with a ten-foot pole these days, so there’s no real risk of us falling onto the nearest flat surface together.
So, we’re back at square one, and I’m taking the new approach. Well, the old approach, technically. I’m going to butter her up with banter, and she’ll eventually open up to me again. I know I keep messing up, but I’m not a quitter. I’m prepared to do this song and dance with her for as long as it takes.
I arch a brow. “Unless you’d like to backtrack and allow me to treat you to lunch today?”
“Nope.” She lifts her hand and curls her fingers. “Card?”
As I’m reaching for my wallet, an idea drops into my mind. I fish my business card out and hand it over. “Keep this after you’ve ordered us lunch.”
She gives me a quizzical look but doesn’t argue. Bracing her hand against her lower back, she lowers herself into the chair, moving as if she’s heavily pregnant. While she orders our lunch, she rubs the muscles at the base of her spine. I sit down on the counter behind her, wondering if she’ll ever visit the doctor about her back pain.
“And why, exactly, am I keeping your card?” she asks after a few minutes of loaded silence, her foot bouncing beneath the desk. She always fidgets when I’m watching her...
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on Monday. About how even non-Christians enjoy a little bit of Christmas cheer.”
Her face lights up like a Christmas tree, just like I knew it would. She turns to me with a reluctant smile, and the sight makes my heart drum against my ribs.Success.“Have you reconsidered decorating the office?”
I nod. “It’s a little late in the game, but if you wanted to get a tree—”
She holds her hand up. “Say less, Brandon. I will order a treetonight.”
I laugh softly. “Why would you order a tree online when you could visit the tree farm that’s two miles down the road? I’m meeting up with Cora to discuss Teddy’s holiday schedule this evening, but we could go afterward if you want.” I try to keep the hope from creeping into my voice.
To my surprise, she looks like she’s considering it before she shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I ask a little too quickly, still holding on to hope. “Do you have plans?”
She purses her lips and nods. Curiosity momentarily eclipses my disappointment. What might she be up to on a Friday night? And with whom?
“Hot date?” I joke, trying to keep things light. But I’m dying to know. I hate the streak of jealousy that scorches through me as I picture her on a date with another man.
She grimaces. “Not exactly.”
