He pulls his hand back and clenches his fist as if he might have felt the same thing I did. He clears his throat. “Can I call you tonight?”
I’m about to nod when Allysa suddenly bursts through the door to the back, wide-eyed. She leans in and whispers, “Ryle is almost here.”
My blood feels like it freezes in my veins. “What?” I don’t say that so she’ll repeat it. I say it because I’m shocked, but she repeats herself anyway.
“Ryle is pulling in. He just texted.” She waves a hand toward Atlas. “You have ten seconds to hide him.”
I’m sure Atlas can see the absolute fear in my expression when I look at him, but he very calmly says, “Where do you want me?”
I point to my office and rush him in that direction. Once we’re in the office, I second-guess myself. “He might come in here.” I cover my mouth with a shaky hand while I think, and then point to my office supply closet. “Can you hide in there?”
Atlas looks at the closet and then looks at me. He points at the door. “In the closet?”
I hear the front door chime, and I’m filled with even more urgency. “Please?” I open the closet door. It isn’t the most ideal place to hide an actual human, but it’s a walk-in closet. He’ll fit just fine.
I can’t even look him in the eye when he moves past me and into the closet. I could die right now. This is so mortifying. All I can do is murmur, “I’m so sorry,” as I close the door.
I do my best to compose myself. Allysa is chatting with Ryle when I exit my office. He greets me with a nod, but his attention is back on Allysa. She’s digging through her purse for something.
“They were in here earlier,” she says.
Ryle is tapping his fingers impatiently.
“What are you looking for?” I ask her.
“Keys. I accidentally brought them with me, and Marshall needs the SUV to get his parents from the airport.”
Ryle looks irritated. “Are you sure you didn’t set them aside when I told you I was coming to get them?”
I tilt my head, focusing on Allysa. “You knew he was coming?” How could she forget to tell me he was on his way here when Atlas showed up?
She reddens a little. “I got sidetracked by… unexpected events.” She holds up her hand in victory. “Found them!” She drops them in Ryle’s palm. “Okay, bye, you can leave now.”
Ryle makes a move like he’s about to go, but then he turns and sniffs the air. “What smells so good?”
His and Allysa’s eyes meet the bowl at the same time. Allysa pulls it to her, cradling it. “I cooked lunch for me and Lily,” she lies.
Ryle raises an eyebrow. “You cooked?” He reaches for the bowl. “I have to see this. What is it?”
Allysa hesitates before handing him the bowl. “Yeah, it’s chicken… baraba doula… meat.” She looks at me and her eyes are wide. She is such a horrible liar.
“Chicken what?” Ryle opens the bowl and inspects it. “It looks like shrimp pasta.”
Allysa clears her throat. “Yeah, I cooked the shrimp in… chicken stock. That’s why it’s called chicken barabadoulameat.”
Ryle puts the lid back on and looks at me with concern as he slides the bowl across the counter back to Allysa. “I’d order pizza if I were you.”
I force a laugh, but so does Allysa. Both of us laughing makes our reaction seem way too compulsory for a joke that wasn’t even funny.
Ryle’s expression narrows. He takes a couple of steps back, a suspicious look in his eye. He must be used to the two of us having inside jokes that he isn’t a part of, because he doesn’t even question us. He spins and walks out of the flower shop in a rush to get the keys to Marshall. Allysa and I both stand as still as statues until we’re sure he’s left the building and is way out of earshot. Then I look at her incredulously.
“Chicken barbawhat? Did you just completely make up a new language?”
“I had to say something,” she says defensively. “You stood there like a lump! You’re welcome.”
I wait a couple of minutes to make sure Ryle has had time to leave. I walk out front to ensure Ryle’s car is gone. Then I regretfully walk into my office and head to the supply closet to inform Atlas he’s in the clear. I exhale before opening the door.
Atlas is waiting patiently, his arms crossed as he leans against a shelf, as if being hidden in a closet doesn’t bother him in the least.
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know how many apologies it will take to make up for what I just asked Atlas to do, but I’m prepared to say it a thousand more times.
“Is he gone?”
I nod, but rather than exit the closet, Atlas grabs my hand, pulls me in and closes the door.
Now we’re both in the closet.
The dark closet. But not so dark that I can’t see the flicker in his eyes that indicates he’s holding back a smile. Maybe he doesn’t absolutely hate me for this.
He releases my hand, but it’s so cramped in here for the two of us, parts of him are grazing parts of me. My stomach knots, so I press my back into the shelf behind me in an attempt not to press into him, but it feels like he’s draped over me like a warm blanket. He’s so close, I can smell his shampoo. I very calmly try to breathe through my nerves.
“Well? Can I?” he asks, his voice a whisper.
I have no idea what he’s asking me, but I want to answer with a confident yes. Rather than blurt out my consent to a question I don’t even know, I silently count to three. Then I say, “Can you what?”
“Call you tonight.”
Oh. He jumped right back into the conversation we were having out front, as if Ryle never even interrupted us.
