Everly was staring at Augustine like he was an alien. After a moment, she started to eat, but the confused look didn’t leave her face.
“Sorry, I’m Augustine, by the way. Ambrose’s accountant—I mean, little brother.” He laughed in his usual fake businessman way, which Ambrose always found annoying.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” Everly replied, her expression hooded.
Could he drag him into the other room and get him to shut up about the business before it was too late? As it was, the damage might be irreparable. Sweat pricked his palms, and he shifted in his seat. This was the absolute worst way for her to find out.
Augustine started to eat, and, uneasily, Ambrose took a few mouthfuls of food. It all tasted like cardboard in his dry mouth.
Everly turned to him. A candle flickered between them, just to the right of his vision. In the shimmering light he saw the questions multiplying behind her eyes. She took a few nibbles of food, then laid her fork aside.
“Ambrose? I thought you said you were in transportation.” She fiddled with the napkin in her lap.
Oh shit. Not now. “I am.”
“A delivery driver, right? But you’re the boss too?”
Augustine snorted, and Ambrose kicked him under the table. Not being a stupid man, his brother realized he’d stepped in something, and ate, minding his own business for once in his life.
Ambrose sighed inwardly. This wasn’t his brother’s fault. It was all his.
“Not exactly.” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “We need to talk, but it should probably wait until after dinner.” To be polite to his parents, if nothing else.
Nodding slightly, she took another bite of food, chewed, swallowed, but he could tell she’d lost her appetite. He tried to eat, but all he could do was watch her indirectly, hanging on her silence, terrified she’d open her mouth and speak.
Now was the day, but he wasn’t ready. The right words had never found their way into his silent rehearsals, but he was out of time. She would press for answers as soon as they were done, and everything he could think of sounded like a lame excuse in his head.
His parents tried valiantl
y to make conversation, but what was supposed to be a nice dinner had turned into an awkward mess.
When it seemed like everyone was done, he exchanged a glance with his mother, who nodded. He stood and went to Everly’s chair and guided her to her feet.
“Come with me.”
He walked down the hall with her, wishing it weren’t winter, so they could have gone outside. Band posters still covered the walls and ceiling of his old bedroom, and the teenage him gloated for a moment about having such a sexy girl set foot in there. He shut the door behind them.
She turned to him, looking upset and perplexed. “Explain.”
“I—I love you, Everly. This all ended up happening ass backward. I wanted to explain in a few days, but really I’m just a fucking coward. I should have told you weeks ago.”
“Your brother called you the boss, and said he was your accountant.” Her usual teasing was gone. She was dead serious.
“Yes. It’s true. I work in transportation, but I started my own company. A small business.” That didn’t sound too bad, so far, right? “I met you, and I liked you a lot. Right from the beginning. But you told me you didn’t have a very good opinion of people who . . .” Fuck. What word would make this less bad? “Had money. So I realized if I wanted to have a chance to win you over, I needed to downplay that. It was dumb, I know. I just—I really liked you, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
“So you own a small business?”
“It got bigger over time. There are . . . employees.”
“So you couldn’t take me to the Christmas party, or I’d find out.” Her gaze was stony.
“Yeah.” When he tried to brush her hair back from her face, she jerked back from him, as though his touch might burn her skin.
Fuck.
Oh god, he felt like he was drowning. And it was his own fault for drilling holes in the boat.
“How far do these lies go?” Her voice was cold.