Page 62 of Passion and Privilege

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with a seriousness that sent shivers down my spine. “You don’t have to thank me. That should never have happened to you.”

His protectiveness made me feel cared for. “I don’t know why he was there,” I said, feeling the need to explain. I didn’t want him to think I was seeing Scott on the side. “He just showed up ranting and raving.”

“Let me guess. He wanted you back?”

“I honestly don’t know what he wanted, Timothy,” I said, feeling exhausted emotionally. “He didn’t make much sense. He did say he wanted me back and he made a mistake and then the next minute he was screaming at me and calling me every name in the book.”

A shadow passed over Timothy’s face, tightening his jaw. “Well, he won’t be bothering you again. If he does, tell me.”

I smiled. “Thank you. I think he got the message.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “You got there before anything happened.”

“Are you going to be staying here tonight?” he asked.

“No. Thank you, but I think it’s better if I don’t.” I waited, hoping he would ask me to stay. I wanted him to tell me he wanted to spend time with me.

“Do you know about the house in town?” he asked. “Is that where you’re going to be staying?”

“Not right away,” I replied.

“I’m happy for you, Catherine. It’s a nice house.”

“Thank you,” I responded gratefully. A silence fell over the room. Timothy looked at his desk. I was aware that my presence was a disruption, but there were things left unsaid between us that refused to let me leave.

“Will you be restoring the house?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “I haven’t actually seen it yet. I’ll finish up here and then check it out.”

He nodded. “I see. Well, if you do the same quality of work you did here, it will turn out great.”

“Thank you.”

The stilted conversation was awkward and uncomfortable. Anyone observing us would never know we had been hot and heavy a day ago. It was like it never happened, which was killing me just a little.

“Okay, well, it looks like you have a lot to do here. I’m going to pack my things. I guess I’ll see you in a day or two. I’ll check up on things, but my work is mostly done. You’re in good hands with Amber.”

“She seems very capable,” he said, nodding.

“Yes, she is.”

The silence stretched out between us again, the air heavy with nervous tension. I stood and moved toward the door, hoping he would pour his heart out and tell me he was crazy about me. The awkwardness was almost unbearable. As I reached the door, I turned back to Timothy.

“Before I go, I just want to say thank you. For everything. Thanks for taking a chance on me with the job. And for letting me crash here. It was very kind.”

He nodded, his face blank. “You’re welcome.”

Feeling oddly bereft but not knowing what else to say, I slipped out of the room, leaving him alone with his paperwork and catalogs. I climbed the stairs up to the third floor, taking note of all the details. I had a feeling it was going to be the last time I saw the place.

As I packed up my belongings in my room, I felt a horrible sadness. It seemed like I was constantly losing.

“What are you doing?” Paisley asked from the door.

I sighed, trying to maintain composure. “Packing, Paisley. I have to go.”

Paisley’s face fell. “You can’t leave.”