by D K Sutton
“What the hell did you do to Chase?” She crossed her arms and gave me a pointed stare.
“What you mean? Nothing.” I tripped over my words, and she raised her eyebrows at me.
“Want to try that again?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “Everything was going great and then I had to leave, and he seemed upset again. Did he say anything after I left?”
“No. He left almost immediately afterwards. But he was not happy. I thought maybe you said something to him.”
“No. I mean yeah I talked to him. But he didn’t seem upset until the end.”
Amica stared in the direction of Chase’s cubical. “Fine. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on. Meanwhile for the sake of our project, stay away from him.”
“You don’t think I should say I’m sorry?”
“You know what you’re apologizing for?”
“Not a clue. But I’m sure it’s me. It’s usually me.”
“Agreed.”
“Hey,” I said, a little offended.
“We both know it’s true. But you can’t apologize if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for. That will only piss him off even more.”
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. If I apologized to Chase, he would ask me what I was apologizing for, and I wouldn’t have an answer. I had to let Amica do this. “See what you can find out. Then report back to me.”
“I am not your damn spy. I’m going to see what’s wrong with my friend. If there’s something you can do to help, I’ll let you know.” And with that, she turned and left me standing there.
I noticed Chase going toward the lounge out of the corner of my eye. The urge to stop him, to make this right, was strong, but I promised Amica I would stay out of it for now. Chase raised his chin a bit. His body seemed to tighten up as he came closer. His fingers tapped furiously on his leg. Yep, he was still angry. Instead of engaging with him, I turned around and went back to my desk. My break was almost up. Dylan gave me a questioning look, his eyebrows raised. I shook my head. No way could I explain this to my friend. I felt like an idiot already.
CHAPTER 8
CHASE
WORK GROUNDED ME, GIVING ME SOMETHING to focus on besides Max. During the down times, when less calls were coming through, I’d think about how he’d talked to his friend, and it infuriated me. In contrast to his words, his tone had been warm but firm. He was obviously talking to someone he cared about. That only made it worse. It didn’t bother me that he had someone in his life who trusted him so much he went to Max for help. Not much anyway. It reminded me of Cameron and the similar things he’d said to me almost daily. But interspersed among those awful thoughts were the other things Max had said. The way he had teased me, his voice warm and deep. My skin tingled at the memory of his touch on my arm. I blushed, thinking of what Max had said to me, the way he had leaned toward me, his gray-blue eyes watching me carefully. As if I was important to him. But then those hateful words would return. “It’s just people. Why do you have to be so nervous all the time? Just get over it.” It felt like a splash of cold water was being thrown on me. I shivered. Maybe I was getting sick. I didn’t feel like I’d ever be warm again.
“They need to ban popcorn in here,” Amica said, sitting down. The smell of burnt popcorn had escaped my notice when I’d entered the lunchroom. Another indication I was obsessed.
I nodded, not looking at her. I wasn’t ready for company, but I didn’t have the heart to push her away.
“Are you okay?” She tilted her head in concern. The last thing I wanted was her worrying about me. At least she kept her voice low.
“I’m fine.” I smiled but the frown on her face told me it fell flat.
“I thought the meeting last night went well.”
She probably thought changing the subject would cheer me up, but it did the opposite. It reminded me of Max. I tightened my fingers on my glass, trying to hold it together.
If Amica noticed, she ignored it. “Max had a lot of good ideas. That kind of surprised me.”
Max was the last person I wanted to talk about, but the topic seemed inevitable. “I guess.”
“You guys were hitting it off.”
I sighed. “Maxwell Sloan can be charming,” I admitted. “But he’s also loud and arrogant, and I really don’t want to talk about him.”
“Did he say or do something…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You want me to hide all his paperclips?” She sounded serious, but her eyes were crinkled at the edges. Amica was a good friend. I wasn’t sure I deserved her.
“He still uses paperclips?”
“He also has a stash of colorful gel pens.”
“He does?” That surprised me, although it shouldn’t. Max seemed like someone who liked colorful things in his life. Not gray depressing things. I shut those thoughts down.
“I can replace them with plain black ink pens. Or all one color.”
I pretended to think about it, tilting my head to the side. “Maybe we should tape the wheels on his chair. He likes to roll around a lot.”
“Chase,” she said, her voice shocked. “That’s brilliant. Who knew you could be so evil?”
I laughed, my tension melting away. I didn’t need to stress over Maxwell. We’d put the proposal together. Maybe that would be the end of our association. I could probably get paired with Amica for the actual implementation.
Everywhere I went, Max was there. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was now more aware of him, or if it was intentional. Maybe a little of both.
I ran into him in the hallway during my last break. Almost literally. I stopped just short of invading his bubble. The irony that it was because I was obsessing over him, was not lost on me.
“Chase,” Max said. “Good to see you.” His voice was calm and low. Unusually so.
I narrowed my eyes, remembering seeing him with Amica earlier in the day. “What did Amica tell you?”
“Nothing.” He held his hands up defensively. “I just said hi to her.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Fine. She told me to stay away from you.”
“Smart girl.” My heart warmed at the thought of Amica being protective of me. It hit me then that I did have friends; I wasn’t a complete failure at socializing.
“I’d like to point out that you are the one invading my space.”
I had stepped closer to him without noticing it. Probably so no one could hear us. At least that was the reason I was going with. It had nothing to do with his magnetic personality. I backed up quickly, annoyed that he would point it out.
“Maybe we should get together and go over our proposal before presenting it to management. We can invite Amica and Jon.”
“Just send it out by email. I don’t have any time to meet.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“What about during lunch tomorrow?”
“No,” I said before turning and walking away. I had to be firm with him. I was done letting people talk me into things I didn’t want to do.
The afternoon dragged on. I tried not to think of Max. All I wanted to do was go home and relax in my nice peaceful apartment. Don’t you mean boring? I pushed that thought away. “I mean quiet.”
“Are you talking to me?”
I glanced up at Gina. She had the cubby next to me and was on her way back to her desk. “No,” I said. “I was talking to myself.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, giving me a strange look before slipping into her cubbyhole. Great. Now people would think I was crazy as well as stuck up. I blamed Max.
When I finally got home from work, I made a dish of fish and rice. It wasn’t much fun cooking for one, especially since I loved to cook. Normally, I didn’t even think much about it, but now I felt increasingly lonelier. I cleaned up and settled on the couch. I had a book I’d been reading, but I couldn’t get into it. That wasn’t surprising, but the fact that I wasn’t thinking about Max was. Ins
tead, my mind decided to focus on the whole Cameron debacle.
I tried to convince myself that Max and Cameron were nothing alike, but I was having a hard time believing it. Cameron and I had dated for a couple of years, then ended up moving in together. I thought we were serious. And maybe Cameron did take our relationship seriously, but he didn’t take me seriously. When we were out together, he liked to be the life of the party. People loved him. They flocked to him, and he loved showing me off, like I was a prize he’d won. I wasn’t comfortable with the attention. Still, I grinned and went along with it. I thought I was being strong, overcoming this weakness called social anxiety. And I wanted Cameron to be happy. But it never got any easier.
Cameron thought I needed to try harder. It was my problem, not his. He put it all on my shoulders but occasionally, I would snap and say something to him. He always acted like it was a surprise that I still hadn’t gotten over my issues. He thought I needed to take another pill. The medication helped; otherwise, I would not have been able to attend all the parties Cameron was invited to. He was a lawyer, and schmoozing was part of the job. I’d often become overwhelmed at social events and ask Cameron to take me home. He’d bitch about it but usually relented. I even suggested we take two cars in case I had a meltdown. Cameron acted like that was a stupid idea. He always made a scene about how I just needed another glass of wine and I’d be fine. It was like he didn’t understand me at all or didn’t want to understand me. But I stuffed it all down. I was defective and it was up to me to deal with it. I tried my best and often I worked harder at the relationship than Cameron. Maybe that wasn’t fair.
I came to a breaking point one Friday evening when Cameron had gotten us tickets to a movie we both wanted to see. I had been so excited that he was doing something that didn’t involve tons of other people. Something just for the two of us. That excitement evaporated once we reached the movie theater.
“Cam? Did you pick out our seats?”
“Yes,” he said, pulling me through the crowded theater. “But they were packed so I didn’t have a lot of choices.”
We reached our row, which was full except for two seats in the middle. I focused on my breathing. I didn’t want to make a scene. “You know I prefer the aisle or a seat against the wall.”
“I know, babe. But these were the only good seats left.”
Anger tightened through my body, but it wasn’t anger at Cameron. It was at myself. Why couldn’t I just sit next to a stranger in a movie theater like anybody else? Why did I have to be so fucking anxious about everything?
“I mean there were aisle seats up front,” he said, “but you know that hurts my neck if I have to sit that close.”
“I can’t do this.” I couldn’t catch my breath. I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself.
“It’s just a couple of hours,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Just try, okay?”
But I wasn’t talking about the movie. I was talking about our relationship. Maybe I just wasn’t strong enough. I just knew I’d had enough. I shook my head, stretching my fingers out to ease the tension.
“I’m so tired of having to do things your way, Chase.” His voice rose and I cringed at the attention we were getting. “Life is messy. You need to learn how to deal with it.”
In that moment, I hated everything. Myself for being so messed up. The people around me for staring at us. The fact that I couldn’t sit in a movie theater in the dark for two hours next to a total stranger. But most of all, I hated Cameron for putting me in this position in the first place, knowing it would be difficult for me.
“Are we going to sit down or what?” Cameron asked when I hadn’t said anything. “Or we can go if you want.”
“Go ahead and sit down,” I said. His passive aggressiveness wasn’t working this time. I would not feel guilty about ruining our evening. “I’m going to get some air.”
“Take some meds while you’re at it.”
I’d walked outside, and then proceeded to walk out of his life. I’d gone home, packed up all my stuff and called Sunny. The girls were under five, and her husband, Brad, was working late, but she still packed them up and drove out to get me. She didn’t talk most the way to her house. Once she got the kids to bed and we were alone, I broke down.
“Why am I such a freak?” I said. “Why can’t I just be normal like everybody else?”
“It’s not you, hun.” She tipped my head up so I had to look at her. “Cam is an asshole.”
We both laughed a little. I nodded, wiping the tears from my face. “You could have told me that sooner.”
“You already knew.”
I nodded again, crying onto her shoulder.
Tears streamed down my face at the memory. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I hated reliving those moments. I’d gone to therapy to work through the crap Cameron had put me through. And although I still had anxiety, I had learned that everyone struggled with something.
I made a vow to myself: Any man I became involved with would have to be someone who could accept me the way I was. Max’s words on the phone that day came back to me. As charming as he was, I wasn’t going to fall for Max Sloan. I could resist him. I had to. There was no way I would ever do that to myself again.
CHAPTER 9
MAX
I USUALLY LOVED THE WEEKENDS. Hanging out with friends and family, and maybe even a little extra time in the gym. I was always busy. But not this weekend. Dylan and Sadie had gone out of town to visit her family. I didn’t feel like doing anything. I spent most of the weekend sitting at home with Toby, binging Netflix. As long as I watched something, I could keep my mind off Chase. That was the theory, anyway. It didn’t quite work out because the man was always on my mind. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to set him off. We’d been getting along so well. At least I thought so. When I tried to talk to him on Friday, he was cold and dismissive. I was back where I started. I might’ve even lost ground. There was nothing I could do, so I needed to stop obsessing about it.
Sunday afternoon Toby and I went over to my parents’ house. During the summer months, they liked to have barbecues. All the time. My whole family was usually there. I had three brothers, an older sister, and a younger sister, and they would usually all bring their families. It was a lot of people. There were a few that lived out of state or traveled. But mostly they were all expected to show up. I didn’t really feel like being around people, but my sister Carole would hunt me down. On orders from my mom. Two women I really didn’t want to disappoint.
I helped Howard man the grill. Actually, I was avoiding my sister. She could read me like a book. Toby ran off to explore the area.
“Are you hiding?”
“No,” I said, trying not to sound guilty.
“Then do something useful and hand me that plate.”
We talked about football starting soon and who had the best team. Howard could tell something was bothering me, but his way of dealing with it was different from his wife. He’d just try to distract me. That was why he was one of my favorites.
“Is Josh here?” My younger brother studied at Florida State University, but since it was the summer, I thought he’d be home.
“He didn’t get the internship he wanted.”
Josh wanted to be a marine biologist. His main problem seemed to be that he was afraid of water. “Why doesn’t he choose another profession?”
“Sloan stubbornness?”
I couldn’t argue with that. We were a stubborn bunch. Carole was the oldest, and I was a year younger than her. Then came Josh. Jamie and Henry were in their early twenties and Greta was the baby. She just graduated from high school. “Is he hiding?”
“He’s supposed to be here. But you know your sister. Carole will drag his ass back here if he doesn’t show up.”
I hated that Josh was having problems, but maybe it would keep everyone off my ass.
Everyone devoured the food. Toby hung around the younger kids, hoping for scraps. Howard added
a secret ingredient to his barbecue sauce. No one knew what it was except for Carole. Mom and Dad smiled on, proud of their big family. Josh even snuck in. I didn’t draw any attention to it, but I handed him a beer. “Looks like you could use this.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
Avoiding the subject of school, I asked him about his boyfriend, Liam.
Josh sighed. “He’s in Australia right now. I’m supposed to go over there for Christmas break.” He shrugged. “We talk all the time, but long distance is hard. How’s your love life? Dating anyone? Or just hooking up?”
I thought of Chase but shook my head. I didn’t count Levi or whatever his name was. That was one night and not even worth repeating. “No one in particular.”
Thankfully, he didn’t call me on it.
“Are we playing football?” Jamie asked, running up to us. He was the star quarterback of the family. He’d played all through high school and now played at MU.
“Sure,” I said. “I’m in.” At least physical activity would help keep my mind off Chase.
After getting tackled multiple times and hit with the ball, I realized my mistake. You should only play football with the Sloan family if your head was in the game. Mine wasn’t.
“What is up with you?”
I tried to ignore my sister. It was futile. Carole didn’t give up easily. “Mac? Answer me.”
When I was little, Carole had trouble with my name. It came out as Mac instead of Max and it stuck ever since. Which worked out fine since my dad’s name was also Maxwell.
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s nothing.”
“Is it work?”
“No. Work is fine.”
“Oh, my gosh! It’s a guy isn’t it? Please tell me it’s guy.”
“Why?” I stared at her, nursing my bruised arm. Those guys could really tackle. The game played on without me. “Why would you want it to be a guy?”
“Tell me first if it is.”
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a guy. Now tell me why.”