The Other Side of Greed by Lily Zante
Chapter Thirteen
KYRA
Simona thinks I’m being cruel and she could be right.
She says I’m being hard on Brad just because I’ve had him working in the storerooms for most of the day. He had barely finished in the factory storeroom when our new deliveries arrived. Now I’ve asked him to move everything and to make it all neat and tidy.
“You don’t know how to be around someone who is young and good-looking and of the opposite sex!”
I almost choked on the bite of my sandwich when she said that. “I’m cool around Fredrich, and I’d say he ticks all those boxes.”
She scowls. “Fredrich is like a brother.”
I make a face. “To me or to you?”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Kyra.”
“Please don’t play matchmaker.” Simona likes to meddle in these matters. As much as I love her, Simona has been trying to push me into getting back onto the dating scene. I haven’t been in a relationship for over eighteen months, ever since I split up with my boyfriend. He said I was more interested in Redhill than I was in our relationship. He blamed our continuing distance on me spending so much time on the business. Later, I found out that he had been seeing someone else for most of the time we were together.
I give my all to Redhill, and I don’t have time for a relationship. The hurt still bruises inside. Simona thinks I’m working too hard, and she’s worried that I’m lonely and bored. She thinks I’ll die an old spinster. There are worse ways to die.
“I don’t know if Brad is single or not. I haven’t yet gotten around to asking him,” she says.
I’m just about to ask her why she needs to know this, when I hear his voice.
“I am, as it happens. Why? Who needs to know?”
That same old wry grin, irritating as anything, is the first thing I see. Simona’s face lights up. “We were just wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” I grumble, feeling the heat on my cheeks.
“I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment, if you must know.”
Because I need to look busy and not as if I’m embarrassed by this conversation, I keep my eyes on the screen and start typing random words that make no sense.
“I’ve finished organizing the new delivery. Do you want to see what I’ve done?” This is leveled at me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“Ky-ra?” His tone is deliberate, as if the slight elongation of my name is an attempt to annoy me.
“What?” I snap back. I can sense a telepathic link between us, as if he can read my thoughts and is doing his best to irritate me.
“You’re looking flustered,” he notes, inflaming me even more. I glance at him standing in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling out his t-shirt, as he crosses one foot over the other, displaying a sense of ease and nonchalance that is the exact opposite of my mood right now.
“I’m not.”
Simona laughs in the background. “You bring a much-needed dose of humor to this place, Brad.”
I want to glare at Simona, because I don’t like her putting down our workplace, but I manage to remain calm. I smooth my hands over my thighs, then rise from my chair. “Let’s see what’s taken you all afternoon.”
“I’m not as fast as Fredrich, and I’m not built like a tank.”
“That’s obvious.” I try not to stomp down the stairs.
“Are you annoyed because I overheard you both of you talking about me?”
“Can you get it through that skull of yours, we weren’t.” I throw him a stony look, a dangerous thing to do given that we’re walking down the stairs.
“Didn’t sound like that to me. I’m curious to know how the pair of you ended up discussing my relationship status.”
We reach the bottom and I head towards the storage room, ignoring him. Everything is neat and clean. The boxes are all lined up perfectly, and there is a whole side of the room that’s empty.
“Not bad. Almost as good as Fredrich.” I smile smugly at him.
“Like I said, I’m not built like him. I can only try.”
“I don’t suppose you’re used to getting your hands dirty.”
“What makes you say that?”
I stare at his hands. “You have soft hands that look like they haven’t done a day’s work of hard labor.”
“Lewis, are you hitting on me?”
“No, Hartley. In which alternate universe would you think I was?”
He hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and flashes me a cheesy grin as if he’s enjoying this immensely and at my expense.
“You’re admiring my hands, you and Simona are talking about whether I have a girlfriend or not—”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He’s driving the conversation into uncharted waters. Worse, he seems to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable, and even worse than that, he thinks I’m crushing on him. “What brings you here?” I ask. “Someone like you could go work in the city. You could get a job as a banker or something, because you look the part.”
“Look the part?” He guffaws, then appears to stumble back, holding his hand to his chest. “Of all the lines I’ve ever heard, Lewis, this is the most unexpected.”
He has steamrolled this conversation into something that it never was. “It’s not a line. It’s definitely not a line. Hear me say it again, it’s not a line. It’s not even a compliment. It’s merely an observation.”
“I’m going to take it as a compliment whether you intended it as such or not.”
“You do that,” I tell him, feeling worn down by this volleying back and forth. A conversation with him drains me, and I suddenly wish Fredrich was back.