Page 27 of Sugar Coated Lies
After scanning the back and front porch and the parking lot. I head in the direction of the stairs that lead to the offices Millie told me about earlier. She’s going to give me a tour tomorrow.
I check the time and cringe. Carol will be wondering where I am. Maybe I should drive home without the license and get it tomorrow.
I’m about to leave the hallway near the stairs when a deep voice stops me in my tracks.
“Everleigh? Is everything all right?”
I turn to face my boss. He’s even more beautiful than I remember. Either the polo is a size too small, or it shrunk in the wash—not that I’m complaining. His arms are magnificent, and his abs are visible through his shirt.
I lick my lips then bite down on the bottom one when I realize what I did—eyed my boss’s yummy body like I’m starving and he’s a buffet of food.
What was I doing again? Oh, right. “I lost my driver’s license,” I blurt. “I think I closed it up in the iPad by mistake.” I hope I didn’t throw it away. The iPad has a case and an attached keyboard.Please let me have closed it inside.
“Follow me.” He starts up the wooden stairs.
I can’t tell if he’s angry, frustrated, or bored. What happened to the guy who offered me a job and seemed to care?
We walk down a hallway, and he enters a room on the left. I follow him into a sophisticated college administrator-looking office. It doesn’t fit him. He seems sleeker and more modern.
“I meant to call you up to my office today to see how things went, but I got sidetracked. I hope you had a good first day.” He rearranges a notepad and various items on his desk in search of the iPad, I assume.
Because I’m nervous and want him to know how appreciative I am, I launch into a spiel. “It was amazing. Millie is spectacular, and, well, this whole place is. I had the best time. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity to work here. This is an amazing farm. Millie told me about how you’re updating it and promoting the place more. If I had known it had so many wonderful things, I would have begged my parents to bring me here when I was a child.”
A smile of delight breaks across his face. “You grew up around here?”
“In Honeycomb.”
“Ah, yes. I know that town. Great parks.”
“Yes!” He knows about the parks. “My family loves parks. We—me and my parents before they died—would go to them together every weekend and have picnics. My grandpa still likes to go.”
His entire body stiffens at the worddied.
I shouldn’t have said it so casually. Old habit.
“You lost your parents?”
I nod and give him a comforting smile.
“I’m sorry, Everleigh.”
Another nod and smile. “It’s okay. I dealt with it a long time ago, and I’m appreciative of the time I had with them.”
He looks at me like I sprouted a third eye on my forehead. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Shit,” he murmurs and lowers onto his chair, seeming staggered.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Upset me? Everleigh, I didn’t lose my parents at a very sensitive and important age. I don’t know what I would have done if that had happened to me.”
“I had my grandparents to look after me. It was just as hard for them—they lost their only daughter. But we got through it, and we are…” I pause to swallow the emotions creeping up my throat. “We were still a family.”
“Were?”
I shouldn’t have brought this up, but I can’t end the conversation without coming across as rude. “My grandmother passed from cancer a year ago, and Grandpa has Alzheimer’s, so it’s been hard.”Oh God. “What time is it?” I check my phone. “I’m sorry. I have to go. If you find my license, just keep it safe for me until tomorrow, please. Thank you. Sorry.” I wave and race from the room.
