Page 21 of The Substitute

I tilt my head in surprise and spare Maya a glance.

“Maya didn’t mention that her brother is an attorney.”

“Do you know all the lawyers in Seattle?” Maya asks, irritation ripe in her voice. “There must be a thousand of them.”

“Well, no. But I’m aware of Mr. Sterling’s practice. They’re quite influential.”

“As is yours,” Stella says. “From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

“We’re headed out,” Maya says after she locks her computer screen and grabs her purse. “See you in an hour.”

“Maya, take the afternoon if you’d like.”

“I’ll see you in an hour,” she repeats, and then they’re gone.

Jesus Christ, I fucked up. I’d thought keeping my distance from her was the smart way to go. Something tells me I won’t ever be content with a short-term assistant-with-benefits situation. And I’m not capable of more.

It’s not fair to her.

And yet, this coldness from her makes me want to pull my hair out. I miss our talks in the morning, and her witty banter. I miss the way she smiled at me.

“I have to fucking apologize.”

I sigh in resignation.

I’ve never been good at apologizing, but if I want things to loosen up and go back to even a fraction of what they were before, I need to tell her that I regret my behavior on Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.

If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be desperate for a woman to soften up and like me, I’d have laughed in your face and told you to go shag yourself.

But that’s what seems to be happening here.

There’s a store just down the block, so I lock up the office and walk over to pick up some things. When I return, I set them on her desk. I don’t overthink it and try to get fancy; I just put them there for her to find.

Then I return to my desk and wait for her to get back so I can hopefully make things right with her again.

Exactly fifty-nine minutes after she left, I hear Maya return to the office. Thirty seconds after that, she pokes her head in my doorway.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” I turn to face her, surprised that she’s actually looking me in the eyes. “I trust you had a good lunch?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Where did these come from?” She’s holding up the candy I bought for her.

“You were out.”

Maya frowns over at me. “So you bought me more?”

“I did, yes.”

“Why? You don’t even like me.”

“That’s not true.” I drag my hand down my face and sigh. “Would you please sit?” I gesture to the visitor’s chair.

She looks hesitant, so I repeat, “Please?” Finally, she does as I ask.

“I do like you, Maya. And I have to—” I take another breath. “I need to apologize to you.”

That has those blue-gray eyes widening in surprise, but she doesn’t say anything in response.