Page 72 of Mask and the Magnolia

THE DEAN: You better be. I am not in the mood to be toyed with.

What a dick.

That’s not news to me, but sometimes I just have to reiterate it for good measure.

Guess I better get ready.

Practically dragging my feet across the carpet, I lean down and open my bag, pull my laptop out then head to Isaak’s desk to set up shop.

I’m pretty sure I could be one hundred and four years old and my father would still try to control my life, and stress me out while doing it. I bet that asshole would probably figure out how to pull my strings all the way from Hell. The more time that goesby without a clear way of breaking my contract, the scarier that reality gets.

“I’m not to be disturbed until Dr. Reynolds arrives.”

I look up as Isaak backs in his office, whoever he’s talking to right on his ass but I can’t hear them.

“No, not even for him. I have a lot to do this morning before the residents are up, I want to do that without interruption.”

Apparently the Dean isn’t the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Dr. Lowe isgrumpytoday.

And he has no idea I’m already here.

Isaak closes his door, almost slamming it in the face of whoever is on the other side, locks it then proceeds to drop his forehead against the wood and let out the longest sigh in the history of sighing.

If I wasn’t still a little miffed at him for yesterday, I’d find this absolutely adorable.

I am. I’m miffed but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s pretty cute in his misery.

“Rough morning?”

Isaak jumps, smacking his head against his door and dropping his briefcase as he spins around to face me. “Magnolia.”

“I think Dr. Reynolds is fine after your behavior yesterday.” Might as well rip the bandaid off. We can’t be on the outs while we’re working together, and to be honest, I don’t like being on the outs with Isaak.

He’s awkward and rigid but he’s so sweet and after how he handled my panic attack, I’m even more attracted to that side of him.

That’s the side I want all the time but I’ll take the rigid and awkward, too.

Isaak’s brows slam down over his glasses, the man giving me the scowl to end all scowls. “Mybehavior?” He kicks hisbriefcase toward the desk, marching behind it like a man on a mission. “My behavior?”

I park my hands on my hips, ready to go to war but he kicks his briefcase again and for some reason that’s irritating as hell.

“Yes,yourbehavior.” I stomp around the large hand carved hunk of wood and bend over, picking up his crap just so I can shove it at his chest when he stops in front of me. “You acted like a dog sniffing around a piece of roadkill, which makesmethe roadkill.”

“Because you smelled awful,” Isaak grunts as he yanks his case from my hands and throws it at one of the wingbacks. “I don’t know what you did but there was definitely a foul odor following you around.”

My hands ball into fists at my sides and my eyes well with tears.

I don’t know why it bothers me so much that Isaak thinks that. It’s not like I wanted to smell like Camden, it’s not like I did it on purpose. Having him circling me like a buzzard yesterday then saying what he just did, it hurts.

It hurts like someone I love insulted me, and I don’t really know what to do with that.

It’s that feeling alone that fuels the next thing out of my mouth because it sure isn’t my brain when I look him in the eye and blurt, “I showered!”

Isaak recoils like I slapped him, his face turning red as he takes a deep breath.

“Iknow,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I was here.”

Right.