Page 46 of Strings

He gazes down at me and his eyes soften. I’m not sure what I see in them, but it feels like pity and I don’t like it.

“I can take that.” I pull my bag from his hands and place it on my shoulder. “Now explain to me exactly how it is you knew I was riding the bus today?”

The doors open to the main floor.

“And how did you get in here? You don’t have a key.”

We walk toward his car and he opens my door. I stop and sigh.

“I’m going to open doors for you. You need to learn to accept it.”

Once inside I say, “Well?”

“Right. I called the office and Amy told me she heard you were riding to work with someone from your building who was in the orchestra. She also said that she wasn’t sure how you got here when we were practicing elsewhere. I assumed since we’re at the theater again today, you’d be on the bus.”

He reaches between us and hands me a Starbucks cup. “Then she said that you really loved my flowers the other day and if I wanted to make you happy, I should get you a coffee. So here.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose with one finger and smiles. “Happy?”

I stare down at my coffee cup and struggle to find words.

“You’re speechless? Hot damn. That’s like three times already in one day. I didn’t think it was possible for you to actually have nothing to say.”

“I have plenty to say, I’m holding back because your head is already ten sizes too big from the compliments you give yourself every other second. If I say anything positive, it may burst.”

“I am pretty amazing.” He pulls out into traffic as his tongue rests in his cheek and he attempts to stifle a grin.

“Pop! There is goes,” I say, pointing. I lift the cup to my mouth and he grins.

I want to say something to poke fun at him or bring him down a notch, but he doesn’t deserve it. He’s been decent today. But if he thinks he’s in control, or controlled me from acting out in any way today, he’s got another thing coming. I stepped back because I wanted to, not because he stepped up.

I will always be the ringmaster of my life. Monkeys come and go. They strut their stuff on my stage, and crawl away when the applause dies down. I will always run my show and there’s not a man or beast who will get in my way. Even if the circus is kind of fun and the monkey is starting to grow on me. No, not even then.

Who the hell is Pete anyway?

Me:I don’t want a ride home. I have things to do.

Bash:Like what?

His response is almost immediate.

Amy stands in my doorway, gazing at her watch. I can tell she’s worried.

Me:I have a meeting and I don’t answer to you. This is a fake relationship, but even if it were real, I still wouldn’t tell you.

I shuffle some papers around and shove them inside my binder as I stand.

My phone pings again and I put it on vibrate. “Let’s go. Shit! How late are we?”

“Five minutes,” Amy replies as we wait for the elevator.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Bash:I do not want you riding the bus. I’ll get you an Uber, then.

“Ugh.” We step into the elevator and I text him back.

Me:I told you earlier, it was a nice gesture, both the car last night and the ride this morning, but I can find my own way around. Now stop!