Erin flushes. Her blue eyes shine like a lake on a sunny day, and there’s a lovely glow to her.
My heart beats funny. And my chest feels oddly achy.
“It’s nothing,” she says with a smile. “I did what anybody would do. You took a chance on me when I had no experience or education, and you’ve pulled me along for two years. It’s the least I could do to repay your kindness.”
What she’s saying makes sense. And every word out of her mouth is complimentary. But I’m inexplicably displeased. And vaguely insulted.
Then it dawns on me. I don’t want her gratitude. I want…
Damn it. I don’t even know what I want from her, but gratitude definitely isn’t it.
“David?” she asks, peering up at me.
I realize I’ve been frowning. I paste on a smile. “Just thinking about Gerry,” I say.
But it really doesn’t matter what I want, because Erin isn’t going to give something to me when I don’t even know what it is.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erin
“Hey, hey, I heard. Wow,” Bev says, stopping by my desk. “Mad respect, girl.”
“Thank you.” I give her a smile that I’m sure is, as they say, wan. I like my life to be as under-the-radar as possible. But at the same time, I’m proud of myself for speaking up. I’m willing to deal with the attention if it means regaining a chance to fix the situation with the foundation for David.
She leans closer. “I can’t believe Gerry is that kind of guy,” she whispers loudly, then stares as though trying to hypnotize me into spilling everything that happened in the conference room.
“We’ll have to investigate,” I say, refusing to give her the gossip she’s looking for. That isn’t my job, and David made it clear when he hired me that he expects me to exercise discretion.
“He’s getting fired, huh?”
“I’m sure David will stick to the HR procedure.”
“Definitely getting fired.” She gazes at David’s door. “I wish I could sneak in and listen when he reams Gerry.”
“Why?” I can’t think of anything more awkward than being present when somebody’s getting verbally beaten up.
“Because.” Bev laughs a little. “It’s going to be fun. Aren’t you even a little curious?” she asks, leaning closer like we’re co-conspirators.
“Nope.” I gesture at my computer. “Look, I really have to finish the meeting minutes.”
“Fine, fine. I know when I’m not wanted.” She straightens slowly, looking at me all the while.
I don’t say anything to stop her from going away. Trying to deal with her constant need for gossip can be tiring, especially when I’m not interested.
Sighing, she leaves, mumbling something about how un-fun I am. I don’t care, though. Being thought as un-fun is far more desirable than being thought of as weird or co
nstantly talking about people behind their backs. Gossip and whispers about me and my mom really hurt when I was growing up in Saintsville, and I don’t want to be part of anything like that. Not with Bev, not with anyone.
But Bev isn’t the only person who wants to say something. Other people stop by to give me atta girls.
“That was very brave of you.”
“I didn’t know you could be so outspoken.”
“You did good.”
Maybe if I wanted people to like me, or wanted them to be my friends, I’d enjoy the praise. But their reactions just make me uncomfortable. I don’t like the way they act like they know me. It reminds me too much of the kids in Saintsville. They all acted like they knew me…talked about me and my mom like they knew everything. Nothing I did or said made a difference if it didn’t align with what they wanted to believe. I soon realized that the best way to deal with it was to be as unobtrusive and invisible as possible. If nobody notices you, nobody gossips about you.