Chapter 45
Maya's POV:
I stood by my car in the parking garage, keys in hand, waiting for Julian.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The air smelled like oil and rubber.
Footsteps echoed across the concrete. Julian emerged from the stairwell, carrying a canvas tote bag.
He walked over. Held it out.
"For you."
I blinked. "What is it?"
"Hot sauce. From Austin. Lime flavor. Really good stuff."
I stared at the bag. Didn't reach for it.
"Julian, I can't—"
"I bought a bunch. Gave them to everyone in the office." He pushed the bag into my hands. "Thought you and Amy might enjoy it too."
Everyone.
My shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Oh. Thank you, Julian." I smiled. Took the bag. "That's really thoughtful."
He shrugged. "No big deal."
"See you tomorrow."
"Drive safe."
I got in my car. Set the bag on the passenger seat.
Started the engine.
As I pulled out of the garage, I thought about Julian. How considerate he was. Always thinking of his team.
A good boss.
---
When I got home, I pushed open the apartment door.
And froze.
Adam was sitting on my couch.
Legs crossed. Arm draped over the back cushion. Like he owned the place.
Amy sat beside him, eyes glued to the TV. Some history documentary about ancient Rome.
She heard the door. Spun around.
"Auntie!"
She scrambled off the couch and ran over. I set the bag down. Kissed her forehead.
Adam stood. Walked toward us.
Smiled at me. That fucking smile.
"Welcome home."
I ignored him. Bent down to untie my shoes.
He reached for the tote bag. "Let me help you with that."
I straightened. Pulled the bag back.
But he'd already grabbed the handle. "I've got it."
His fingers brushed mine.
I let go.
He lifted the bag. Peered inside.
Frowned.
"Where'd you get this?"
I kicked off my heels. "Julian gave it to us. A souvenir from Austin."
Adam's jaw tightened.
He held the jar of hot sauce up to the light. Studied the label like it personally offended him.
Then his hand moved.
Fast.
I lunged forward. Grabbed his wrist.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Throwing it out."
"Are you insane?" I yanked the jar out of his hand. "You don't just walk into someone's house and throw their stuff away!"
Adam's jaw clenched.
He took the bag from me. Walked into the kitchen without a word.
Then he came back out. Dropped onto the couch.
Staring straight ahead.
---
I went into the kitchen to start dinner.
Adam didn't offer to help this time.
Fine by me.
Let him spend time with Amy.
By the time I finished cooking, I walked back out with plates in hand.
And stopped.
There was another tote bag sitting on the coffee table.
Identical to the one Julian gave me.
I turned to look at Adam.
Oh.
That's why he was upset.
He'd bought me the same thing.
And Julian beat him to it.
I pressed my lips together.
Tried not to smile.
---
After dinner, Adam stood. Started gathering the plates.
I got up. "I'll do it. You can hang out with Amy."
He turned to Amy instead. "Want to help me wash dishes?"
Her face lit up. "Yes!"
They went into the kitchen together.
I stayed at the table.
When they finished, I glanced at the clock.
7:45 PM.
"Amy, it's almost bedtime. And you should go, Mr. Sterling."
Adam nodded. Stood as well.
"I'll walk you out. Let me just grab the trash."
I went to the kitchen. Pulled the trash bag out of the bin.
"Let's go."
I headed for the door. He followed.
We'd made it down half a flight when Adam stopped.
"Wait. Forgot something."
He turned. Jogged back upstairs.
I stood on the landing. Waiting.
A minute later, he came back down.
Holding a tote bag.
His hot sauce.
Good. We couldn't finish two jars anyway.
---
At the bottom of the stairwell, I tossed the trash into the dumpster.
Turned to him.
"Goodnight, Adam."
I started to walk away.
His hand shot out. Caught my wrist.
"Why are you avoiding me?"
I stopped. Didn't turn around.
"I'm not."
"Bullshit."
I pulled my arm free. Faced him.
"I'm keeping boundaries. That's all."
"Boundaries." He laughed. Short. Bitter. "What boundaries? I told you how I feel. I told you what I want."
"And I told you I'm not interested."
His eyes flashed. "You're lying."
"I'm not. You can see Amy. I'm not stopping you. But you and me?" I shook my head. "We're not happening."
He took a step closer.
"This isn't up to you anymore, Maya."
His voice dropped.
"This time, I decide."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I forced myself to meet his gaze.
"Go home, Adam."
"Fine."
He turned. Started walking toward his car.
Then stopped. Glanced over his shoulder.
"We're not done."
When I got back upstairs, I locked the door behind me.
Walked into the living room.
The tote bag was still sitting on the coffee table.
Adam's hot sauce.
I frowned.
Walked over. Opened it.
Wait.
I went to the kitchen. Checked the counter.
Empty.
Opened the cabinet.
Nothing.
He took Julian's.
Not his own.
---
The next morning at work, I was two hours into reviewing contracts when Sarah walked over to my desk.
She held up two slices of bread. A jar of hot sauce in her other hand.
"Anyone hungry?" She grinned. Twisted the cap off. Started spreading sauce on the bread. "This stuff is so good. I brought it back from Austin."
Mark's head popped up from his cubicle. "Oh, hell yeah. I've been dying to try Austin hot sauce."
He walked over. Grabbed a slice.
I frowned.
Watched them.
Julian said he gave everyone hot sauce.
But Mark clearly didn't get any.
Or maybe Julian just... hadn't gotten around to it yet?
Sarah turned to me. "Maya? Want some?"
I smiled. Shook my head.
"No, thanks. I ate a huge breakfast. Still full."
"Suit yourself."
She and Mark walked back to their desks. Chatting about the flavor.
---
At noon, Sarah walked over again.
"Maya, lunch?"
I glanced at the stack of files on my desk.
"You guys go ahead. I need to finish this."
She exchanged a look with Mark.
They left.
I kept working.
Julian had given me these files this morning. Asked me to have them organized by the end of the day.
He only trusted me with certain tasks.
---
Ten minutes later, footsteps approached.
I looked up.
Julian stood in front of my desk.
"Why didn't you go to lunch?"
"I'm almost done. I'll eat after."
He stared at me for a moment.
Then reached down.
Grabbed my wrist.
Pulled me to my feet.
"Come on."
"Julian, I'm really not—"
"You're eating. Let's go."
He didn't let go.
I tried to pull my hand back.
Couldn't.
"Julian—"
"What the hell are you two doing?"
I turned my head.
Thomas Garrison stood in the doorway. His eyes locked on Julian's hand around my wrist.
His face darkened.