Page 117 of Obey

“A person needing care isn’t a burden.” Mars retorts, “I own restaurants. Half my job is figuring out what people need before they ask for it. But if I’m missing something and my staff doesn’t speak up, everyone suffers. It’s not weakness to speak up. It’s called communication.”

Trey smiles into his glass. “See why I keep him?”

Mars turns his head. “Keep?”

“Poor choice of wording?” Trey smiles innocently.

“We’ll talk about those words later.”

I point between them. “And this is why nobody believes you when you call him your little friend.”

“Anyway,” Trey reaches across the table and steals one of my shrimp, trying to deflect. “So what are you going to do?”

“About what?” He gives me a look, and I groan. “I hate both of you.”

Mars lifts his coffee. “I’ve known you less than an hour.”

“And yet, the statement still stands.”

Trey grins. “Ask them, Sloane.”

My first instinct is to argue. My second is worse, because he’s right. I’ve researched terminology, made lists, analyzed every interaction, and somehow managed to skip the obvious part.

Asking.

“Fine.” I say, reaching for my mimosa.

Trey perks up. “Fine, you’ll ask?”

“Fine, I’ll consider asking.”

“Coward.”

“Bitch.”

Mars looks between us, utterly unimpressed. “Do you two always interact like this?”

Trey and I answer at the same time. “Yes.”

Mars sighs and goes back to his breakfast.

twenty-nine

Vacancy Filled

I deserve a trophy for this.

Nate’s calendar sits empty as a confessional on a Tuesday for the next two hours. No calls. No meetings. No way to pretend I didn’t do exactly what I did. I lean back in my chair and watch through the glass as he pulls it up.

His brows drop the second he sees it.

His head lifts. Across the whole floor, his eyes find mine like they have no other option. I give him a cheerful little wave.

Nathaniel Blackwell: My schedule appears to have been tampered with.

Me: Sounds like an IT issue. I’ll escalate immediately.

Nathaniel Blackwell: What you’ll do is fix it. Now.