Page 25 of Falling Madly
He looked me straight in the eye, his voice steady. “I knew the production team was on the chopping block. I knew Charlie was trying to fix things. I didn’t know they’d fire you.”
“I bought my condo that week. No one warned me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your job, I swear. But I also didn’t know you were buying a place. Ye weren’t talking to me much around that time.”
I’d always thought Trevor had been part of it, keeping secrets with Charlie. But maybe he hadn’t. It was true I’d been actively avoiding him back then.
“When I found out they were firing you, I went to George and told him he was making a huge mistake.”
“You did?”
“I did. Ask him, he’ll tell you how he gave me a twenty-minute lecture on being a bleeding-heart softie, just like his son.”
I bristled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Because you don’t want to contact George?” he guessed, grinning.
I nodded. Nothing could make me voluntarily approach my psychopathic ex-boss.
“Great! Then I also punched him in the throat for you.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I thought about it. Vividly. I thought about the sound his windpipe would make as it crushed under my knuckles, and he let out a choked whine?—”
“Thanks, poet. Have you ever actually punched anyone?”
“The boxing sack at the gym,” he confessed, shrugging. “I’m more of a hit-them-wi-ma-words kind o’ guy.”
I could easily imagine him at the gym. Nobody’s shoulders got that wide by holding a pen. But I couldn’t imagine him in a fight. Who would even fight him? Trevor was too likable. Too accommodating. I could barely imagine him raising an issue with George. If he’d really stuck his neck out for me… what did that mean?
“I appreciate you talking to George. But right now, I’m glad it didn’t work. I’m glad I don’t work there anymore.”
“Me, too.”
I finished my cookie, and my gaze drifted back to the cabinet. So much fresh baking.
“I think I’ll buy some to take home. Can I have the keys? I left my wallet in the car.” I rummaged through my purse, coming up with nothing.
I’d been charging my phone on the drive, and since my cards were all held in the phone case, I’d come to the cafe with nothing to pay with. But Trevor had been so quick to order and pay, I hadn’t even noticed.
“What do ye want? I’ll pay for it.” Trevor shot up, but I motioned him back down.
“Seriously, the car is down the road, it’ll take a minute.”
I should have added a dramatic “what could go wrong?”, because in the next five minutes, everything did.
I took Trevor’s car keys and skipped out of the cafe, hurrying down the road as if to prove to him this little trip would take no time at all. The temperature was just above freezing, and I didn’t account for the slick ice hiding underneath the freshly fallen snow. I also didn’t account for my Italian shoes with their smooth soles sending me flying. I lost my balance, my hands flailing until they found an anchor—an iron lamppost covered in pink hearts.
As my hands gripped the iron pole, the car key became airborne, and I watched in horror as it landed on top of a storm drain. The slats were wide enough for it to go through, but so far, the key was sideways, sitting safely on top of the grid.
I inched closer, reaching to pick it up as carefully as I could. I didn’t see the dog before its nose touched my bottom, and I fell forward, slamming my knees on the ground and palms againstthe iron grate, unwittingly launching the car key into the town sewage system.
“I’m sorry, he’s not usually this excited,” a friendly voice behind me said.
I turned and saw a woman my age with a round face and a friendly smile, tugging at the leash of an excitable border collie. “Harry! Heel!”
Harry? The dog’s name was Harry? Where had I heard that before?
