Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Because a lifetime of living with it has made me unhinged?”
“I don’t know, but it probably could. Wouldn’t it do that to anyone?”
“And what if I asked for it? For help. What if I did the last thing I ever wanted to do, and I still find out there aren’t any other options?”
“There has to be. Laugh at me if you like because I know I’m half your size, but I will look after you, Leon. I will fight for you. You can hurt my feelings, and you can push me away, but I know you don’t mean it, and I know it’s not what you want. You are not some surly, mean bosshole who scares me. You also can’t convince me that I’m not an adult and that I don’t know my own mind. Because I do. And I’m not changing it.”
“That sounds more like pity than anything else.”
“Nope. Not even close. I see you, and I care about you. Care.”
He raises a brow. “You have far more fight in you than I ever would have thought.”
I see his raised brow and raise both of mine in response. “I thought you would have figured that out long ago. You know, seeing as you were spying on all my group chats. I said that I most certainly have never found bloodstains in your car, for goodness sakes. I’ve watched you for a year minus some weekends because you actually do give me time off here and there when you’re feeling generous. I’ve seen you save people’s dreams from going up in ashes, save their finances, and save them from declaring bankruptcy and losing everything. I’ve watched it over and over, and most people? They don’t even thank you because they have to pay for your services, and they do that gladly, but they never come to thank you personally for everything you do. You don’t expect thanks.”
“Because it’s my job.”
“No. I know about the times when people couldn’t pay you, and you waived it. I know you’ve given loans to people who would never qualify, and I know you forget to eat a lot of the time because you’re so busy with everything. You have never denied a meeting when someone calls and needs one, no matter how last minute it is.”
“In the interest of making a profit.”
“No. That’s not it. I know that’s not it at all because I know what you did for Sarah. How you gave her family the money she needed for her cancer treatments because they were experimental and expensive as heck, and the company’s medical benefits wouldn’t cover them.”
I can see how uncomfortable it makes him when confronted with the real good that he’s done. “Sarah is a key asset to our team. I couldn’t lose her.”
I let it go because he’s not going to let me win that argument. It’s like he doesn’t want people to know he has a heart at all. “You have an unhealthy obsession with pickles,” I say. “That bar fridge in your office is for sodas and waters and stuff. No one should eat that much salt. And I know you love grilled cheese sandwiches with tomatoes. More than anything, that’s what you ask me to get for you for lunch.”
“Naturally. That’s why I keep a supply of pickles in my office.”
“I can tell when you like them too. I can tell when you like one sandwich more than the other because you ask me for that one again—for the one from that Tuesday place—and it makes me happy to try new places for you. It makes me happy when you’re happy.”
He finally sees where I’m going with that, and he steers the conversation back to safer waters. To what he sees as his faults. “I rage in meetings sometimes.”
“Probably when your head is killing you, and people are being ridiculous. I’ve wanted to rage too, but I’m just an assistant, and I’m too polite, and I have a filter.” I pause. “There are a hundred other things I could mention. I know, for example, that you like comfy socks, and you buy clothing that is eco-friendly instead of the expensive brand-name crap everyone else wants. I know your car is electric, which is kind of terrifying because I’m always scared it’s going to run out of charge or whatever and strand me when I drive it as I won’t know what to do. I know you love tuna—not the big cans, but the tiny little flavored ones. You crack them open and eat them in your office with a fork when you think no one is going to notice. I also know every single charity you support is one you truly believe in, and I know you most certainly would never eat puppies.”
“None of that makes me a good person.”