Chapter 57 Technically, I'm Not Lying
There's a knock at the door just as I'm putting the hoover back away in the cupboard. Every surface is sparkling, all my family photographs are hidden, and the whole place smells like I'm sprayed an insane amount of air freshener. 'Hopefully, he's not asthmatic,' I think to myself as I make my way towards the door nervously.
He is my boss. This shouldn't be that weird. We're just working in a different environment, that's all. No matter how much I try to reassure myself of that, it doesn't work and I become more anxious instead of less.
"Hi," I say, opening the door to let him in. I hope he doesn't notice how high pitched my voice has suddenly become.
"I brought takeout," he tells me, holding up a bag of food. "I didn't think you'd have time to eat and I know I haven't."
"Great!" I say over-eagerly, taking the bag from him. "I'll dish it up. Make yourself at home."
I'm grateful for the excuse to leave the room, rushing into the kitchen. I take a deep and stabilising breath, reminding myself again that having him in my apartment is NO BIG DEAL. Except, who am I kidding? It's a huge deal. Once the food is dished up, I hurry back into the living room.
"You don't have any pictures up," he comments, pointing at a spot on the wall where a photo of me and my grandma was not two minutes ago. Now there's just a lonely nail sticking out of the wall.
"Er... I just moved in. Still unpacking." Technically, I'm not lying.
"Cool. What made you move?" he asks.
I don't know how much I can tell him. I obviously can't tell him why I'm living here, but I don't want to completely lie to him either.
"I broke up with my boyfriend," I tell him the part of the story that doesn't involve my grandma or Clancy's Comforts.
"Oh, sorry."
"It doesn't matter," I say, shrugging it off. "It happened before I came to work at Clancy's. I'm over it."
"That's good," he says softly.
Gosh. Things were awkward enough before I opened my big mouth about Mason.
"Yeah, it wasn't really one of those relationships you miss." I'm rambling. Would someone shut me up and bury me in a hole somewhere? "We weren't a good fit."
"That's a shame."
"Not really. That's life," I continue. "All relationships are like that. They either work or they don't. You just have to try."
It's something my grandma once told me and it had kind of stuck with me. That you have to try. Not for the other person but for yourself. You put your all in so that when you look back, you can say you gave it your best shot. Although grandma hadn't been talking about dating at the time; she'd been talking about my school work.
"Mrs Clancy said something similar," he tells me with a smile, taking a seat on my sofa. "She says it quite often actually - almost every meeting - that there's no quiting until..."
"Until you've lost," I finish.
His eyes widen in surprise as I realise my mistake.
"Exactly," he says slowly, his eyes narrowed and I'm pretty sure he's suspicious.
"My dad used to say the same thing," I say offhandedly.
"Small world," he laughs. "I'd never heard it before I met Mrs Clancy."
So that I don't have to answer him, I spoon some food into my mouth but immediately regret it. Now, he's just watching me eat. Why isn't he eating or talking or doing anything except watching me eat?
I swallow as quickly as I can before saying, "so, I guess we should just carry on where we left off?"
"Sorry?"" he asks, confusion written across his face.
"The work."
"Oh. Yeah. I guess so."
He's still staring at me and it's really unnerving. I want to hide away from the attention but I refuse to behave so timidly. Instead, I hold my ground, meeting his eye. I wait for him to look away but he's in no rush to do so. I can't back down now though and the longer we look at each other across the coffee table, the more nervous I become.
Coughing, he looks down at his plate.
"I hope you like Chinese," he says.
"Love it."
I'm not going to tell him about my secret stash of takeout menus or the fact that I have my favourite Chinese restaurant on my favourite contacts list or that they've got my order memorised even though I've only lived here for a short period of time. That would mean admitting that I rarely cook, a fact I blame him for. It's usually too late to cook by the time I come home from work or at least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
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