“I can’t thank you enough for encouraging me to apply for this job,” I said as I hugged Scarlet’s neck.

“I knew you’d be right for the job,” she said. “Now come on. This is Sebastian and I’s favorite place to go. I can’t wait for you to try the food. And you have to meet Sebastian. He’s been itching to shake your hand.”

She was a vision in green with her bright red hair pinned up in curls. I owed her so much more than I could repay her for. The job. The security that came with that job. The comfortable work environment. Sure, I worked in Maximus’ office, but it didn’t bother me. If anything, it made me feel important. Wanted. Like what I contributed to his company mattered. I had worked alone at Quake Crafts for years by myself without anyone to pass the time with. Even if he was my boss—and even if we did sit in silence most of the time—it was still better than the place I had come from.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman my secretary talks so highly of.”

“I take it from the lilted voice that you must be the brother,” I said.

“Guilty as charged. Though if someone asks, I’m also the fun one. Sebastian Abbott.”

He took my hand and kissed it, forcing a blush to taint my cheeks. I felt like a princess. Stuck between the light of Sebastian’s stare and the shadowed hovering of Maximus’ body. When his car had pulled up to my apartment to pick me up, I tried getting into the passenger’s seat. Until a back window rolled down and revealed Maximus in the back of the vehicle. The entire ride over had been filled with a nervous energy I couldn’t control. Butterflies flopped around in my stomach and the searing heat of Maximus’ body was undeniable. It wasn’t a date, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like one. It didn’t stop me from wondering if Maximus enjoyed my outfit. It didn’t stop me from dolling myself up and wanting to stun him in his track.

And it didn’t stop me from wondering why he insisted he pick me up.

“He can really lay it on thick when he wants to,” Scarlett said. “Don’t let him butter you up too much.”

“Unless you’re into that kind of thing,” Sebastian said with a wink.

“Cheeky. I like it,” I said.

I slid into the booth we were escorted to and Maximus slid in next to me. His body pressed a little closer than I figured he would, given the room we had in the wide seats. His leg was so close to mine I felt the heat from it against my thigh. A constant reminder of the powerful man that sat next to me. I wanted to slip closer. To close that gap between our hips. But I didn’t want to crowd him when it was obvious Maximus didn’t want to be there in the first place.

Scarlet slid in and knocked her feet playfully against me, ripping me from my heated trance. I watched as Sebastian undid the button of his coat, then dropped into the seat gracefully. Scarlet’s face lit up in ways I’d never seen before, and it struck me as odd that she’d look at her boss with such reverence. But in an attempt to figure out why she looked at him that way, it gave me time to study Sebastian. And I was stricken by how much he looked like Maximus.

I glanced over at the man at my side, clad in nothing but black. Black pants that fit him better than they needed to. A black button-front shirt with sleek black buttons. A black tie around his neck that disappeared against a fitted black suit coat. The only thing that had any color was the shimmering tan of his skin and the steely gray eyes speckled with that yellow I never could stop staring at.

“Are you two twins?” I asked.

“Guilty,” Sebastian said. “Though I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“You aren’t a frequent topic of conversation,” Maximus said.

“Then what in the world do you two talk about?” he asked.

“We work,” Maximus said curtly.

“Are you liking working for him so far?” Sebastian asked.

Maximus silently passed us all menus as everyone’s eyes fell onto me.

“I am. I finally finished catching up with things from the last year. Reorganizing. Purging. Routing phone calls and forcing people to make meetings. Now, I have to upkeep.”

“Sounds like you’ve been a busy woman,” Scarlet said with a smile.

“Disorganization isn’t something I like in a workplace. I’m meticulous about it,” I said.

“So is Maximus,” Sebastian said. “Sort of. He keeps it well hidden. And you wouldn’t know it from the condition of his workplace the last year.”

We all shared a small laugh, but Maximus’ face was as stoic as they came. Immovable, like he was being tortured by our presence. Why did he come out to something like this if he didn’t want to be there? I could’ve come on my own. Or even just gone out with Scarlet.

“So, Christie. Are you from here? Did you grow up in town?” Sebastian asked.

“You’re a lot more open than your brother,” I said.

“Again, guilty,” he said with a charming grin.

“Christie grew up in Louisiana,” Scarlet said.

“You don’t have an accent.”

I looked up at Maximus as his rumbling voice blanketed my ears.

“I worked to bury it,” I said. “Southern accents aren’t always looked highly upon in other parts of the country. It worked against me many times when trying to find jobs in college.”

“Well, you must hate the winters here, then,” Sebastian said. “What made you move all the way up here? A boy?”

“I moved out here for college. I met Scarlet when I was dating an ex of mine,” I said.

“What did you study in college?” Sebastian asked.

“English.”

“So, you’re a reader? A writer? Both?” he asked.

“I read when I get the time. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life in college. I had this fantasy of writing and making money, but I didn’t know where to begin. I figured an English degree would help me make that decision, but all it really did was swamp me in books I wanted to read. Which made me neglect looking towards my future,” I said.

“See why I don’t get why she’s single? Christie’s a catch,” Scarlet said.

Sebastian looked over at Maximus and my eyes followed his gaze. But I wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Maximus’ face was a straight and unreadable line. So, whatever he was thinking, I couldn’t tell what it was. Nor could I figure out why Sebastian had looked at his brother in the first place.

“Everyone ready to order?” the waiter asked.

We gave our food and drink orders, and I decided to start with a cup of soup. All of them sounded spectacular, and their cream of corn soup sounded like a fantastic way to prelude the quail dish they had on the menu for that evening. Sebastian kept playing twenty-one questions while Scarlet cracked jokes, and all the while Maximus stayed rooted at my side. Unwavering, unreadable, and silent.

“I came by the office a few days ago and saw your desk is in that cubicle in his office now. Did you move it there?” Sebastian asked.

“It was there when I came in my first day,” I said.

“Hm,” Scarlett said.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

She tossed Sebastian a look and it made me wonder what joke I wasn’t in on yet. I didn’t know what they were trying to get across, but the look on Maximus’ face told me he didn’t enjoy it. His lips downturned a little more and the creases in his brow grew deeper. What was supposed to be an enjoyable evening had quickly becoming a hazard. Sebastian and Scarlet bantered on, talking about the drama in their office and how long it took her to get used to the scanner on her desk. I simply sipped my Manhattan and zoned out, waiting for our food to arrive.

I sighed with relief when the waiter appeared with our appetizers.

He was able to set everyone else’s in front of them, even with the clutter on the table from drinks. But he had to reach across Maximus to get my soup to me, and I figured he wouldn’t like that. I reached out for the cup of soup to speed up the process, and the second my fingers touched the ceramic bowl a searing pain shot up my hand. My fingers were singed immediately, and I felt the small cup fumble in my hands.

“Shit!”

I dropped it into the place setting in front of me, shaking my hands out against the air conditioning of the restaurant. But in the process, cream of corn soup splattered all over the periwinkle dress I’d bought specifically for the outing. Embarrassment spread across my cheeks as I reached for my napkin, dabbing at the small creamy splotches that peppered my dress.

The waiter struggled to try and clean things off the table, but my ears were trained on the laughter coming from a couple of tables away. There were snickers and glances in my direction, and I wanted to sink into the floor and drain out into the sewer. One of the women threw her head back and cackled, and soon phrases I’d heard all my life started wafting over to the table.

“What a slob.”

“Maybe if she ate a snack before she left, she could’ve waited on that soup.”

“A snack? Try another meal.”

“Doesn’t she know dark colors would conceal those folds of hers?”

“Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I don’t have ears,” I said as I looked over at the table.

Their faces dropped as I bit down onto the inside of my cheek.

“Nice to know you enjoy staring at me, though,” I said. “I guess this color can’t look too terrible on me if your date can’t stop raking his eyes down my legs.”

I slammed my napkin onto the top of the table and sighed as I sat back into the booth.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Though I think some seltzer water might be in order for this mess.”

Another snicker came from the table and I wanted to shove my spoon down their throats. They didn’t have the fucking right to belittle me for my weight. Anyone would’ve fumbled that cup of soup. Anyone could’ve fumbled anything onto their clothes. My weight didn’t define me. My weight didn’t determine my worth. But that didn’t mean their comments didn’t hurt. That didn’t mean those voices I’d fought all my life to ignore weren’t creeping back up in the corners of my mind.

I felt my appetite draining away as I continued to dab at my dress. Anger rose up my throat as the table continued to glance over at me. Like I was some sort of sideline freakshow for them to gawk at. I’d dealt with it in my hometown all the time. I wasn’t petite, I wasn’t blonde, and I couldn’t stand what they did for entertainment. I wanted to read. To lose myself in pages of books and curl up in chairs and on couches. So, because I wasn’t petite and I didn’t wear boots and I wasn’t into mud and I didn’t enjoy bonfires and getting eaten up by mosquitos while the flames made me sweat down my damn back, I was weird. An outcast. A form of grotesque entertainment and the whispered talk of the town.

I left home so I could find my place in the world. I left home so I could hold my head high in confidence and get away from the toxic individuals I grew up with. I left home so I could chase the life I wanted, even if I didn’t know what kind of life that was.

I didn’t leave home so I could sit in a damn restaurant that reminded me of the poison I’d leeched from my veins.