The Unwanted Assistant

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The Unwanted Assistant Page 12

by Evangeline Kelly


  Holding back a grin, I set my dumbbell on the floor next to the workout bench. “Let me help you with that.” I stepped forward and leaned over her to explain how to adjust the resistance. As my arm brushed her shoulder, she moved away like I’d just burned her. I stepped back, stung. That was pretty much how I’d seen something like that going. She was sweet, but she couldn’t hide her disgust for me.

  Her reaction was exactly the reason I’d have to be more careful around her.

  Five awkward minutes passed while we worked-out together in silence. When I finished with the weights, I hopped on the treadmill.

  Ivy got off the rowing machine and stepped onto the treadmill next to mine. “My arms are killing me. I’d better switch machines.”

  Nodding in silent acknowledgment, I slowed my pace, ready to help, but she seemed to have an easier time figuring out the settings this time.

  I flipped on the television and played a re-run of the original Star Trek series. After a few minutes, she started giggling.

  “What’s so funny?” My voice sounded grouchy, even to my own ears. I didn’t know how to communicate with her sometimes. “What’s so funny?” I repeated, more gentle this time.

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, looking sheepish. “I love Star Trek, but all my friends think I’m weird. They believe it’s for old people.”

  “Your friends are wrong, Shortcake.” I couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way on my lips. “The original Star Trek is epic. Nothing compares.”

  She smiled. “There’s that nickname again. You buying me strawberry shortcake anytime soon?”

  I laughed. “In your dreams.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I had to try.” She snickered. “You and my dad would get along. He loves Captain Kirk. But I’m more of a Stargate Atlantis fan myself.”

  “You like Stargate Atlantis? I’m shocked.” I gave her an expression of mock horror, and she giggled again. A strange sensation took hold of my gut. It felt nice to make her laugh. Better than nice, actually. “You must be a real Sci-Fi fan if you dug up that old show.”

  “Why are you shocked?” she asked. “You don’t think women can stomach the Wraith?”

  “My mom couldn’t stand watching those guys. Maybe it was the green skin.”

  “The hulk is green, and no one has a problem with him.”

  “True. But the Wraith feed in that creepy way, sucking the life out of their victims. Most women cringe at stuff like that.”

  “I do cringe, believe me, but it’s like the train wreck you can’t look away from.” She considered. “I sometimes wonder where they find the really buff actors to play the Wraith. Sammie and I agreed one or two were even kind of attractive in a weird way.”

  “Oh, so you like ugly guys who work-out? Looks like I may have a chance with you after all.” The moment the words left my lips I wanted to withdraw them, rewind time and start over.

  Back in the day, I wasn’t so bad at flirting, but those days were gone, and now I had to deal with the fact that I wasn’t every girl’s fantasy anymore. Unless the fantasy involved a horror movie. I was completely off my game and could only hope she’d ignore my stupidity.

  She blushed a deep shade of red from the top of her forehead all the way to the bottom of her neck. Okay, so off my game or not, she’d still responded. I liked knowing I affected her like that.

  Even so, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

  Her eyes flew to mine, almost startled. “Okay . . .”

  “I need to ask your forgiveness for the way I’ve treated you. God has been convicting me that I haven’t responded in a Christ-like manner.”

  She looked astonished.

  My chest tightened. “Is it so hard to believe I’m able to admit when I’m wrong?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  I exhaled. “I’ll try to do better,” I said a little gruffly. “But I won’t deny I have a temper. If I act like a jerk again, you have my permission to kick me in the rear.”

  “Duly noted.”

  I picked up the pace on the treadmill. “The last couple of weeks have been hard on me. I know Hayden filled you in on some things, so I won’t bring it up now. It’s not an excuse, but that day you walked in on me playing the piano . . . that was a bad day for me.”

  “I feel horrible about what happened, Sawyer.”

  “I know. It wasn't your fault.”

  We both were quiet for a long moment.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Did you know there’s a rumor about you?”

  My head swung in her direction. “What kind of rumor?”

  “My friend Sammie has attended Landmark Baptist for the past two years. She said she’d heard around that the guy who sits in the balcony is the janitor. Now we know that’s not true.”

  She’d been asking her friend about me? That made sense, considering she worked for me now. “It’s not a rumor. I am the janitor. Well, one of them, anyways. Jasper and I share the responsibilities. I take Sunday afternoons once everyone’s gone, and he comes mid-week.”

  Maybe it was wrong, but I felt a smug sense of satisfaction at watching her try to figure that one out.

  She looked stunned. “Wow. I just assumed you’d think that kind of job was beneath you. It’s not like you need the money.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not paid for it, but it gives me the chance to serve, and sometimes Pastor Wright pulls up a chair, and we talk when I’m done. It’s one of the few things I look forward to every week.”

  She studied me as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “It’s nice to see another side of you. Underneath the rough exterior, you actually have a heart.” Her tone was playful even though her expression was serious.

  I smiled. “Who? Me?” I glanced around as if she spoke about someone else. “Don’t get too excited. I feel something beating in my chest, but I’m pretty sure it’s just circulating my blood.”

  Our eyes met, and for a second, understanding passed between us. If we could joke like this, perhaps we didn’t have to be on opposing sides anymore. Maybe we could get through the next two months without hating each other. We didn’t have to be friends, but we were no longer antagonists.

  “What do you think of Landmark Baptist so far?” I asked.

  “I like it. The people are really nice, and Pastor Wright is a good teacher. How long have you attended his church?”

  “About four years. After my parents died, I moved to Alabama and checked out a few churches. I liked his teaching the best.” My feet pounded against the floor of the treadmill as I picked up the pace. “I explained my situation to him. He understands I like to stay to myself though he’s tried pulling me into Bible studies and other activities over the years.”

  “You don’t believe it’s important to be around other believers?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  When I didn’t offer further explanation, she moved on. “How long have you known the Lord?”

  I slowed down so I could talk without breathing hard. “When I was fourteen, I gave my life to Christ. There was a youth rally at Stillwater Community church, the one I attended in Colorado.” I glanced at her. “When I was young, I thought accepting the Lord into your life meant everything would get easier.” I chuckled, trying not to let the bitter edge in my voice take over. “That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Life didn’t get easier. In fact, it got harder.” I licked my lips. “But Christ has been with me through the difficult times, and despite what happened, I never fell away from the faith. If anything, I’ve clung to Him even more because He’s all I have left.”

  Her eyes moistened at my confession.

  “But I won’t pretend I’m spiritually strong,” I continued. “I tend to say things I shouldn’t. And Hayden says I’m stubborn for refusing to get more involved at church. I’m sure he
’s right.”

  “None of us are perfect. I have my own flaws.”

  I took a moment to watch her as she stared ahead, arms moving at her sides as she walked faster, seemingly unaware of my gaze.

  “Such as?”

  “Sometimes I try too hard. Dad says I’m a people pleaser. I’m trying to focus on the Lord more and not let others’ opinions matter so much.”

  “How did you become a Christian?”

  “When I was a kid, my Sunday school teacher shared the gospel, and I prayed to accept Christ. I was raised in the church, so I’d heard about Jesus all my life. But that particular day it clicked. I understood I was a sinner in need of forgiveness.”

  I couldn’t meet her gaze. “God forgives, but sometimes it’s hard to forgive ourselves.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  I shrugged. “Oh . . . nothing. Forget I said it.” I slowed the treadmill and stepped off, in what must have seemed like an abrupt move.

  “Sawyer, can I ask you one more question?”

  “Yeah, go ahead,” I said, bending over, stretching my hamstrings as I cooled down.

  “Would you be willing to show me a picture of your family? I’d love to see one.”

  I froze. No way. No way would I let her get close to me like that.

  Her breath quickened. “I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive. It’s just . . . I think it would be nice to get to know you more.”

  “I have pictures, but I rarely take them out. I don’t . . . they remind me . . .” I didn’t know how to say it. “Some memories, even good ones, are hard to think about. It’s easier this way—better not to get too lost in the past.”

  “You don’t need to show me if you aren’t comfortable. But I’d love to hear more about them sometime, only when you’re ready.”

  My neck and shoulders stiffened. “Ivy, don’t take this the wrong way but that’s not going to happen.” I started to leave, then glanced at her over my shoulder. “Wait here a minute.”

  I crossed the hall to the parlor and took out the folded paper inside the desk drawer. When I returned, I handed it to her. “I never thanked you for your letter.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, I added, “I’m going to shower and change in my room. Feel free to use the shower here in the gym. Oh, and Ivy, do me a favor and read the letter after you leave.”

  Chapter 16

  Ivy

  Dear Ivy,

  While you’re here in my employ, I promise to work on my manners. We don't have to be at odds with each other, and I’m sure we can learn to get along. All I ask is for some level of privacy. As far as friendship goes, it’s not necessary. I have few friends and there’s a reason for that.

  Sawyer

  My stomach tightened as I read the note again. I hadn’t expected him to write back, or to be so honest.

  I needed to be cautious. If I tried to force a friendship, he would most likely back away. I pocketed the letter in my jeans when Sammie came out of the library to meet me. We’d agreed to exercise by walking around the quad together after classes.

  The quad was a rectangular space on campus, lined with stately academic buildings patterned after Greek and Roman architecture. With the library at the center, quite a few students were drawn to that part of campus. Some walked or jogged on the pathway, while others socialized on the green lawn, dotted by tall trees with white and pink blossoms. It was picture perfect, so much so that a photo of the area graced the front of a University brochure.

  Thirty minutes later, I spoke between shortened breaths. “Tell me why I’m doing this again?”

  Sammie wasn’t even winded. In fact, I was pretty sure this was child’s play for her because she laughed. “You said you wanted to be more physically fit.”

  “I must have been crazy when I said that. I’m definitely eating a Hershey’s kiss when I’m done.” My thighs burned because she’d convinced me to alternate between walking and short bursts of jogging. “As long as I have a piece of chocolate, it’ll be fine.”

  Sammie snickered. “No, as long as you give one to me, it’ll be fine.”

  “Deal.”

  A few athletes passed us wearing gray jogging suits. It was the end of August, a couple weeks since I’d started working for Sawyer, and the heat was oppressive. Sweat dripped down my back.

  It was one thing to exercise in Sawyer’s air-conditioned home, but exercising outside in the heat was ten times harder. “Can’t wait for the colder temperatures. This humidity’s killing me.”

  While California’s weather was dry, Alabama was wet. Sort of like having your own personal shower outside, except your skin stayed sticky with dried perspiration. I had bundled my hair up into a messy bun to keep my neck cool.

  Sammie used her fingertips to massage her face in a circular motion. “I hear Southern women have the best skin. The humidity acts like an all-day steam bath.”

  “That’s good since I won’t be able to afford a spa day anytime soon.” I’d already received a paycheck and while it had been a hefty amount, I’d sent a large portion of it to my parents. We rounded a corner and passed several more students. It felt like I couldn’t last much longer but I pushed myself. “One more lap.”

  Sammie stopped mid-stride and shot me a disbelieving look. “He’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen you take such an interest in exercise before. Admit it. You want to impress Sawyer.”

  I put my hands on my hips and gave her my most outraged expression. “I am not trying to impress him. It’s about adapting to my environment. He works out every day, and even though he doesn’t expect me to join him, it's better to participate than watch. Plus, it was embarrassing how out out-of-shape I was the other day.”

  She smothered a laugh. “You're trying to get fit because you think he’s hot.” She resumed jogging, and I followed.

  “So, he’s in shape. Big deal,” I said, trying to sound indifferent. I didn’t tell her how my heart nearly hammered out of my chest the other day when his muscled arm brushed my shoulder, and he explained how to adjust the settings on the rowing machine. Like a silly little girl, I’d moved away, not sure how to handle the contact.

  “You’re trying to play it cool, but I know you. You’ve got a thing for this guy.” She smiled knowingly.

  “You’re crazy.” I fought back frustration. “Look, Sammie, don’t put thoughts like that in my head. I’ve already suffered one heartbreak and I can’t afford to fall for my boss, okay? Imagine how awkward it would be if I developed feelings for him. It’s not like I can avoid the man. I need this job.”

  Her smile disappeared. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Not much is going on in my life. I was trying to live vicariously through you, but I shouldn’t tease you.”

  “Ha. You might want to find someone more interesting if that’s what you’re after. My love life stinks.”

  We passed a couple walking hand-in-hand. Sammie elbowed me in the ribs. “Thank you for the reminder. I need to get busy setting you up on your first blind date. You promised me three, remember?”

  I groaned. “I was hoping you’d forgotten all about that.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. Want a river view? Gotta date a few,” she said in a singsong voice. We both snickered.

  “That was really cheesy.”

  She ran ahead and glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “I’m preparing you for what’s coming.”

  “Maybe I need to rethink this,” I said, nearly tripping over my feet to catch up.

  “It’s a done deal, Ivy. Get ready to pay the piper.”

  ***

  The following day, I thought about Sawyer’s letter as I approached his house. I’d written a response, but wasn’t sure I should give it to him. I’d shared a piece of my heart in that note, and once given, it could never be taken back. Truthfully, I didn't know if I could trust him with something so personal, yet I sensed he wouldn’t let down his guard un
til I did first.

  I paused at the front door. A window was open, and the most beautiful melody I’d ever heard trickled through the screen like dancing music notes soaring through the air. I checked my phone for a text in case he didn’t want me to come today.

  Seeing none, I opened the door as slowly as possible, making sure it didn’t squeak. I moved inside and then closed the door behind me, glad Sawyer didn’t seem to notice my presence. We’d been on better terms since he’d apologized a few days ago in the gym, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

  I only wanted to listen. He never played the piano when I was around, and I didn’t understand why because the man had serious talent.

  He sat at the grand piano and played a hauntingly beautiful melody that permeated the room. He appeared immersed in the song, hands pounding the keys, shoulders flexing and bending with the motion, fingers skillful and active. I couldn’t take my eyes off him or the way he appeared to own every inch of that song like he’d played it a million times.

  The song was melancholy and heartbreaking and joyful all at once. And like a ray of sunshine that peaked through stormy clouds, there was a bit of hope in the high notes, and they carried me away like I was floating on a river of dreams. Alabama dreams.

  Something about the melody resonated deep within me, stirring up a longing I hadn't felt before. My eyes closed on their own accord, and the music caressed my face like a loving embrace. It was so sublime I never wanted it to end. I wanted to stay like that and listen to him play forever.

  And then the music abruptly stopped, and my eyes flew open.

  Sawyer turned on the bench, now aware of my presence, and in that moment, I caught a glimpse of mournful eyes flickering with pain so deep and tender my hand moved to my gut because I felt it too. In one heart-stopping second, I knew I’d interrupted something—a private moment I wasn’t meant to witness.

 

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