Page 34 of The Fool
Surprisingly, he laughs with an awkward rub of his neck, looking just as embarrassed as I have been feeling since last night. Specifically, when he had left me to face everyone all alone.
“Er, yeah, I deserve that. But no, I came here to apologize. I was kind of an ass to you.”
His squirming is immensely satisfying, even if I don’t have any idea as to why he’s suddenly making an effort to put things right.
“Oh, you were, were you? How very…graciousof you!”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he asks with a schoolboy smile, still scratching nervously at the back of his neck. I merely gift him with a momentary fake smile before returning to my neutral expression again.
“May I come in to explain?” he asks and begins to take a step forward.
“No!” I snap, moving so he is forced to step back again.
Alas, this is the exact same moment that Leah and Ben decide to serenade us with their animalistic chorus from upstairs. We both look inside the apartment, him smirking awkwardly, me closing my eyes through yet more humiliation.
“For fuck’s sake, Ben!” I mutter through my teeth.
“Ok,” he says slowly when I turn back to face him. “Why don’t I take you out for breakfast to say sorry and to explain,” he suggests with huge, pathetic, puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
“I don’t think…”
My voice trails off when their screams and thumping of the headrest become so loud, I can’t even pretend to act even vaguely nonchalant over it all. The worst part is, I know Ben has amazing stamina. This is something a sister should never know about her brother.
“Actually, you can,” I reply with an exasperated sigh, to which he looks genuinely relieved. “I’ll just change. I’ll meet you at the café on the corner.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says, smiling like a teenager who has just scored his first date. “See you in a bit.”
I smile tightly, then walk back into the apartment, closing the door behind me, and not even caring if he had gone or not. The door could have slammed on his nose for all I care.
_____
Bea
Half an hour later, I’m walking up to a table to sit with my asshole boss, soon-to-be ex-boss. He looks nervous, fiddling with a packet of sugar while bouncing his leg up and down. I smile for a moment, enjoying the sight of him not looking like his usual confident self. He probably thinks I’m going to lose my shit and cause a scene by screaming the place down. Fortunately for him, that’s not my style, it never has been, not even when I caught Dean screwing Emma in my very own bed. Not that I’ll let him know that any time soon.
When I finally slide inside the seat opposite him, he immediately stops his leg from bouncing up and down and offers a smile with the same awkward, little boy grin from before. It’s a little unsettling after everything he’s put me through, so I find myself instinctively avoiding his gaze. In fact, I have to give myself a pep talk to make myself face him eye-to-eye if only to prove to him that I’ve had enough.
“Morning, Bea,” Marge, the waitress, says to me with her usual friendly voice. “Tea or coffee, dear?”
“Morning, Marge, I’ll have tea this morning,” I reply with a smile. “How are you this morning? Leg all better?”
“Yes, thank you, dear, still going,” she chuckles. “Anything to eat?”
“No thank you,” I answer, looking back at Nathaniel before telling her, “I’m not feeling myself this morning.”
“Oh, dear, well, I’ll get you that tea,” she says kindly, then marches off. I assume Nathaniel must have ordered when he first got here.
“Are you ok?” Nathaniel asks, looking concerned for me, which is not something I am at all used to.
“I’m just feeling a little nauseated after being so publicly displayed in front of my work colleagues and friends last night,” I reply bluntly. I then smile at Marge who is already bringing me a much-needed cup of tea.
When I finally turn back to face him, I find him looking down at the tabletop, still playing with the same packet of sugar. I can tell the paper isn’t going to last much longer; there’ll be sugar everywhere. But I’ll let him find that out on his own.
“I’m very sorry, Beatrice, it was not my intention to embarrass you like that.”
“So I’m Beatrice now? What happened to Miss Summers?”
The way he looks at me reminds me of a puppy in an animal shelter, or a small boy being told off by his parents for whatever misdemeanor he’s just committed. With a long sigh over this man’s ability to melt my anger, and with only his eyes, I force myself to take a sip of my soothing tea.