Talk to Me

by D K Sutton

  “Chase, anytime you get stressed, you clean.” She put her hands on her hips, staring me down. To be fair, that always worked when we were kids.

  “No I don’t. I just like things to be clean.”

  “Tell me all about it.”

  “I’m fine.” Even as I denied it, I knew there was no point. She would get it out of me. She always did. And I could use someone to talk to.

  Once we were seated in the living room with beverages, she started again. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “We’ve already established that that’s not true. So, could we move past the part where you deny, and I try to get you to talk? Just tell me.”

  “You’re very pushy,” I said. “You always have been. Even when we were kids.”

  “I’m your older sister. That’s my job.”

  “You’re older by five minutes.” But she’d been the leader ever since. “Don’t you have kids of your own to bother?”

  “Is it a guy?”

  Damn. Now I was thinking about Max and blushing. “It’s not a guy,” I said, unconvincingly.

  “It’s always a guy.”

  “No. In fact, it’s never a guy. I haven’t dated in two years. Not seriously.”

  “But that look on your face is the same one you’d get when Cameron riled you up. You cleaned your house and then came over and cleaned my house.”

  “The only reason I cleaned your house was because that’s the place he was not at. He drove me crazy.”

  “Who’s driving you crazy these days?”

  I sighed. She would never give up. Resistance was futile. “If you must know, his name is Maxwell.”

  “And you like him?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He’s my coworker.”

  “But you want him to be more?”

  “No. Are you going to let me tell it, or are you just going to make up your own version?”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment. “Fine, go ahead,” she said, taking a sip of her diet soda. “But at least make it interesting.”

  “This guy, Maxwell, always seems to be competing with me at work. We were in a team meeting today, and he volunteered for something and then volunteered me to help him.”

  “I like this guy.”

  “No. No we do not like this guy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  This was why I didn’t want to talk to my sister. She jumped to conclusions, not caring if there was truth to it. But she listened to me and had been very supportive during the whole Cameron thing.

  “He’s loud and outgoing and…”

  “Charming?” She watched me closely. I could never hide from her.

  “Sure. He’s charming, but in an obnoxious way. Everybody loves him.”

  “Except for you.”

  “It’s not that I dislike him. He pulls these pranks. He especially likes to pull them on me.”

  “Aww,” she said. “It’s like the little boy on the playground trying to get the little girl’s attention by pulling on her pigtails.”

  “I am not a little girl with pigtails.”

  “You’re not a little girl—”

  “I do not have pigtails.”

  She glanced at my hair, and I self-consciously tossed the braid over my shoulder. “This is to keep my hair out of my face. It’s not the same.”

  “I still think he likes you.”

  “Stop reading all those romance books, Sunny. They’re warping your brain.” I took a drink of my tea, trying to calm my pulse. Just thinking about Maxwell stressed me out.

  “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”

  “Seriously, I don’t think he’s interested in me in that way. In fact, I don’t even think he’s gay. The first time we met, he hit on me.”

  “Sounds gay to me.”

  “He saw me from behind and thought I was a woman.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t want her to how I knew. That the look on his face was disappointment and the realization of a huge mistake. I hoped she wouldn’t press the issue.

  “Okay, so he’s not interested in your pigtails. What does he want?”

  “I don’t honestly know. The man’s exhausting.” And exciting. But I couldn’t admit that or the fact that there were times when I enjoyed sparring with him. “And very intelligent.” I felt more alive around him. As if I was important enough to be a challenge to him. I could barely explain it to myself.

  “You could use someone like that in your life,” she said, her tone serious.

  “I despise the man.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a no.”

  “He can be interesting, I guess,” I said. “But now we’re in this group together, and I have no idea how it’s going to work out.”

  Her face lit up, and I held up my hand. “Do not start matchmaking, Sunny. We are not together. We will never be together.”

  “So, he’s not cute?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Tell me more about him.”

  “No. I’m not doing that.” I would not, under any circumstances, gush about Maxwell Sloan. No way. Sure, the guy was handsome, gorgeous even. But he was also arrogant and overbearing.

  “What’s the problem? You know he’s not Cameron.”

  “Close enough,” I said. Guys like Maxwell and Cameron were all the same. They were full of themselves and loud, very loud. Even if Maxwell wasn’t like that, even if he wasn’t Cameron, he still drew a lot of attention, not just because of his boisterous attitude; he was charming and extremely good-looking. Everyone’s attention naturally went to him and that was not something I wanted to be around. I didn’t want all that attention on me, and I would never put myself in that position again.

  She put down her drink and took my hand. I shook my head, fighting back tears and any questions she had.

  “I forgot the cookies. Do you want lemon or chocolate chip?” Thankfully, she let me leave the room without saying anything about the fact that I also baked. Cleaning and baking were my go-to stress relievers. I returned with the sweets and put them in front of her. She nibbled on a lemon cookie while I thought of what to say.

  “We’re all meeting tonight to plan.”

  “How many are in the group?”

  “Four.”

  “Cozy.”

  “Sunny,” I said. “Don’t start.”

  She smiled at me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Yes, you can take that scheming look off your face and help me figure out what I’m going to wear. Should I just wear what I wore to work or should I go more casual?”

  “It’s not a date, right?”

  “Definitely not a date.”

  “Then why are you so nervous, baby brother?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I definitely think you should wear the braid.”

  ~~~

  I combed my fingers through my hair as I walked up the steps to Amica’s apartment. I’d been here before when she needed help with a project she’d been working on. Although I was nervous just being away from home and around others, I had to admit, the main reason for my anxiety was Maxwell. I longed to be back in my kitchen, broom in hand. When I was cleaning, it was easy to put order in my life. If something was dirty, just clean it up. If only life could be that way. Something messy in your life? Grab a broom. A mop. But it wasn’t that easy. People weren’t that easy.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this. I’d done it before. It would be good for me to get out. Now I sounded like my sister. Maybe Max and I could work something out so there wasn’t all this tension between us. Tension that had been there since the first moment we met.

  I rang the doorbell, my heart racing and my stomach twisting in knots. Sunny had helped me with my outfit. I looked the perfect amount of casual and business. I didn’t want anyone to forget this meeting was work-related. But I also didn’t want to come off as stuck up.

  As I’d cleaned, I thought
about the mentoring thing. It really was a good idea, and it could help the company. It would look good on my resume, if I decided to get another job or move up in the company. I wouldn’t tell Maxwell that. He’d make my life unbearable. And I could make him suffer as long as possible. I didn’t mind the actual work. It was the loss of control in that moment when he’d volunteered me. I couldn’t say no in front of all those people. And I hated controlling men. I shook off the cobwebs from the past, as Amica opened the door with a cheerful smile.

  The meeting started off well. Maxwell charmed everyone but was more subdued than I’d ever seen him. There were only four of us, so there were several times when it was just Maxwell and me. He’d insisted I call him Max. He said Maxwell was his father’s name.

  A half-hour into the meeting, Max and I were arguing over the best way to provide the mentorship. Max thought it would be best for the mentors to be on the call with the new workers, assisting them as needed and taking notes to share later.

  “Isn’t that what the supervisor does?” I asked.

  “But it would be on an informal basis. Not as scary.” Max had Venn diagramed his ideas, and I thought it was a little cute. He was really trying.

  “Some people don’t do well in that situation,” I said. “They have performance anxiety.”

  Max laughed. “So, you know all about performance anxiety, Chase?”

  My face heated as I realized what I’d said. Amica and Jon sat in chairs at the small table off of the kitchen. It wasn’t a big apartment, and I could see them looking over at us. Jon with interest and Amica with concern. I shook my head and smiled. I wasn’t offended by the comments Max had made. Just a little embarrassed.

  My face was probably beet red with my fair coloring. Max smiled, his eyes crinkling up with laughter.

  “You know what I mean, Max,” I said, willing the blush to leave my face.

  “I do. I was just joking with you.”

  And the funny thing was I did feel like it was a joke shared between us, and not a joke at my expense. We’d been having a good conversation so far. I didn’t want to ruin it. “I’m just saying it might be better to do role-playing.”

  “You like role playing?”

  “Please stop making everything sexual.”

  Which only made Max laugh even harder.

  “I’m going to get me another drink.” I started to stand up when Max touched my arm.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Sometimes I act like a juvenile.”

  “Delinquent?”

  “That’s fair,” Max conceded.

  “I’m just getting a drink. Anyone else want anything?”

  They all shook their heads, and I headed to the kitchen to get another glass of iced tea. I was thirsty, but I mostly needed a moment to myself. Max didn’t get the hint. I could tell he was behind me as I reached into the fridge, but I didn’t acknowledge his presence.

  “Seriously, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  I poured tea into my glass, trying to keep my hand steady. “Really, it’s fine,” I said. And I meant it. I wasn’t mad at Max. At all. In fact, part of the problem was that Max was making sexual innuendos and had me flustered more than embarrassed.

  “I want to apologize.”

  “Max, I told you it’s fine.”

  “No, not about sex jokes…”

  Really did he have to keep talking about sex? It had been a long time for me. And I didn’t need the reminder. It was enough that Max was standing over me, oozing sex appeal. I cleared my throat, trying to get my head straight.

  “I was an ass to you, Chase,” he said. “I shouldn’t have volunteered you for this. I realize how hard that was for you.”

  And although I was trying to listen to his apology and be a grown up about this, Max being so close to me and using words like ass and hard… What the hell was wrong with me? I turned back to the counter and tried to will my inappropriate reaction away.

  “Chase…” And then he touched me. His hand broke through my protective bubble and rested on my arm for just a second. My skin tingled from the contact, and I wanted those strong hands touching me everywhere.

  I needed to get control of myself and the situation. Max was such a paradox. He could be arrogant and annoying but also sweet and caring. I studied the dirty dishes in the sink. Would it be weird if I started washing them? Probably.

  “Do you want some more tea?” Which was a strange question since Max had been drinking Diet Coke. That he’d brought. But if he noticed how crazy I was acting, he didn’t say anything about it.

  “No, thanks.”

  Once we were settled back in the living room, we worked out a plan that included both our ideas. I was so into it I couldn’t help the excitement in my voice.

  “This will be great,” I said. “We can tailor it to each individual’s needs.”

  Max shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I’ve never seen you this animated,” he said. “It looks good on you.”

  I tried not to blush, but it was no use. Was Max flirting with me? Doubtful. But I still enjoyed his attention on me. It was like I was the only person in the room. I usually didn’t like attention, but I could get addicted to this feeling and that was dangerous.

  Max’s phone rang, and I started taking notes on my paper so it didn’t seem like I was listening. He sighed at the person on the other end, closing his eyes in frustration.

  “Fine,” he said. “Put him on.” He walked away as if he was afraid I’d hear the other person. “Toby.” His voice was strong and commanding. “They’re just people. Stop being so anxious all the time. Just get over it. We’ve talked about this.” He walked into the kitchen to finish his conversation.

  My heart pounded so hard I could feel the blood whooshing through my brain. Was this the real Max Sloan? How could he talk to someone like that? Especially someone with anxiety? It made me feel sick to my stomach. Is this what he thought of me? I almost left, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Max might have everyone else fooled, but not me. I’ve seen guys like this before, and I would never put up with it again.

  CHAPTER 7

  MAX

  THINGS HAD BEEN GOING GREAT AT OUR impromptu meeting. Everyone loved my queso dip, and Chase and I worked out a plan we were both proud of. I didn’t want to leave, but Toby was freaking out. Couldn’t he have kept his issues under control for just one evening? Was that really too much to ask?

  Chase had really been warming up to me, but by the time I started saying my goodbyes, he was again giving me the cold shoulder. I had no idea what that was about. I mean, I’d been joking around with him about sex, but I thought he was enjoying our banter. I went over every detail of the evening, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. But I couldn’t figure it out. Unless it was just that I was leaving early. I obsessed over it during the ride home but finally I had to give up. It wasn’t helpful at all.

  I could hear Toby before I even opened the door. Once I was inside, he rushed my feet, barking hysterically.

  “Toby,” I said. “You know it’s me. There’s absolutely no reason to bark.” I threw my satchel on the dining room table, then scooped the dog into my hands. “My little Tobi-wan-kenobi. Come on, buddy, it’s not that bad.” I scratched his ears. He had light tan and white curls around his face and sweet brown eyes. I loved snuggling with him. I carried him to the couch to chill out and spoke soft words to him. It wasn’t his fault. Toby had always had a problem with barking. He was the protector in the family and was ready to attack anyone who came to the door. Or anyone who knocked on the door. Or anyone who happened to walk by the door. He sometimes even barked at the people on the street. And we lived on the third floor.

  He was a terrier mix. A small ball of spitfire. He’d gotten better about the barking and being nervous, but anything that threw him off his routine, like me going out in the evening once I’d been home, spiked his anxiety. The vet had even given me some anti-anxiety pills for when he was really messe
d up. It was a problem, not only because Toby’s barking could get us thrown out of the apartment building, but because he licked at things all the time, causing sores on his little body.

  I kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry, Tobers. We’re in for the night.” I changed into sweatpants, Toby following at my heels. I loved my little dog even if he was a pain in the ass. When the neighbor had called, all I could think about was not wanting to end my time with Chase. And that was selfish. It wasn’t Toby’s fault that there was a change in his routine. He’d probably heard steps in the hallway, causing him to bark for thirty minutes straight. My neighbor Janice was a sweet lady and always willing to help me out. The last thing we needed was to get thrown out of our apartment because of Toby’s excessive barking. She held the phone up to the door, hoping that Toby hearing my voice would calm him down. It had worked some. But I couldn’t stay any longer, even though I hated the thought of leaving Chase when we’d just developed an almost friendship. But my dog came first.

  As I settled in my chair with a beer and Toby on my lap, watching the newest show on Netflix, I couldn’t help my mind going back to Chase. It was like I was finally getting to see the real guy. This side of him reminded me of the guy I talked to on the phone when I pretended to be a customer. Chase was still that sarcastic, fiery, irritating guy from work, but the fact that he wasn’t perfect made it perfect. I shut my eyes, shaking my head. What was it about this one guy that had me so captivated? He was a challenge, yes, and that was enticing. It was probably just my attraction to him. Maybe I should call Leroy for another round… Wait, that wasn’t his name. Lee?

  But I wasn’t interested in hooking up with anyone else. That more than anything made me realize that if I wasn’t careful, I could actually fall for this guy.

  The next day at work, it was as if we’d never met. Chase was back to ignoring me, and I had no idea what I’d done. After first break, I stopped Amica in the hallway.

  “Hey, Am,” I said. “Thanks for hosting last night. I thought things went well. I mean we got a plan together and that’s good, right?” I couldn’t look her in the eye. I didn’t want it to be obvious that I was grilling her for information.