Jarek approached.
She bent down to hug Ritchie and was pretty certain Dale looked down her shirt. “Hey,” she said. She smiled at the newcomers. “I’m Olivia.”
“Olivia,” Brant said, and went around the table making introductions as she dutifully shook hands and said hello. He did the same for Jarek, identifying him as the carpenter for the few people he hadn’t already met.
“What do you do, Olivia?” Carolyn, the electrical inspector, asked.
Dale spoke up before she could answer. “She’s Jarek’s girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jarek said coldly, voice raised over the noise of the bar. Of course the room chose that moment to take a collective breath, and the words rang out, a humiliating denial that hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
Then Olivia pasted on a smile and aimed it at the newcomers. “That’s right,” she said, pulling out her seat and sitting down. “I’m not. So feel free to hit on me.”
Everybody laughed, the uncomfortable spell broken, and Jarek looked at her oddly when he sat down beside her. She kept the smile in place and struck up a conversation with Marcus, the geologist or geographer or something, and let herself enjoy the company of people who didn’t hate her, and didn’t resent her, and weren’t afraid to talk to her.
Jarek saw Olivia put on her coat at twelve twenty. She’d had two beers and had started to yawn thirty minutes ago. He glanced around the table; everyone else seemed perfectly content to drink until closing, but he knew she had class at nine o’clock the next morning, and entertaining six-year-olds was a lot harder than pouring concrete.
She stood up and they booed her, but she just laughed good-naturedly and waved good night, telling him he didn’t have to leave early, she’d get a cab. Jarek ignored her and pulled on his own jacket, pretending not to notice Dale’s appraising stare. Olivia hadn’t said a word to him in three hours, conversing with every single other person like a normal human being, like the woman she’d probably been before she came to China.
He followed her through the bar and outside into the clean, cool night air. “That’s a fucking relief,” he said, pulling in a deep breath. “I can’t get used to the smoke.”
“Yeah.” She was looking down the street for a cab, but Lazhou shops closed early, and traffic was sparse.
“Let’s just walk,” he said, reaching for her wrist.
She pulled her hand away. “Let’s not.”
“What’s going on?”
She waved at a cab, but it drove by, occupied. She muttered something under her breath that Jarek didn’t catch. “Let’s just walk,” he repeated.
“I don’t want to walk with you.” She had her back to him, ramrod straight, as she waited for another cab.
He sighed. “Oliv—”
“Just go back inside, Jarek.”
“I don’t want to go back inside.”
“Then do something else. But don’t talk to me and don’t touch me and don’t get in this cab when it stops.”
A cab had approached, blinker flashing, and was now stopped on the other side of the intersection as the driver waited for the light to change.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, please.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to keep his voice neutral. He had a pretty damn good idea what was bothering her, but she’d seemed in good spirits in the bar, even if she had given him the cold shoulder. He’d almost started to believe he’d imagined the hurt look on her face when he shouted to the whole world that she wasn’t his girlfriend. Which she wasn’t.
“I know I’m not your girlfriend,” she said, turning to look at him. Psychically sucker punching him when he saw the tears in her eyes. “And I know I’ve never done anything to suggest I thought I was. But it was really fucking humiliating to have you announce it to the bar, when everyone at the site knows we’re sleeping together. And it was really fucking humiliating to sit there for three
She bent down to hug Ritchie and was pretty certain Dale looked down her shirt. “Hey,” she said. She smiled at the newcomers. “I’m Olivia.”
“Olivia,” Brant said, and went around the table making introductions as she dutifully shook hands and said hello. He did the same for Jarek, identifying him as the carpenter for the few people he hadn’t already met.
“What do you do, Olivia?” Carolyn, the electrical inspector, asked.
Dale spoke up before she could answer. “She’s Jarek’s girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jarek said coldly, voice raised over the noise of the bar. Of course the room chose that moment to take a collective breath, and the words rang out, a humiliating denial that hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
Then Olivia pasted on a smile and aimed it at the newcomers. “That’s right,” she said, pulling out her seat and sitting down. “I’m not. So feel free to hit on me.”
Everybody laughed, the uncomfortable spell broken, and Jarek looked at her oddly when he sat down beside her. She kept the smile in place and struck up a conversation with Marcus, the geologist or geographer or something, and let herself enjoy the company of people who didn’t hate her, and didn’t resent her, and weren’t afraid to talk to her.
Jarek saw Olivia put on her coat at twelve twenty. She’d had two beers and had started to yawn thirty minutes ago. He glanced around the table; everyone else seemed perfectly content to drink until closing, but he knew she had class at nine o’clock the next morning, and entertaining six-year-olds was a lot harder than pouring concrete.
She stood up and they booed her, but she just laughed good-naturedly and waved good night, telling him he didn’t have to leave early, she’d get a cab. Jarek ignored her and pulled on his own jacket, pretending not to notice Dale’s appraising stare. Olivia hadn’t said a word to him in three hours, conversing with every single other person like a normal human being, like the woman she’d probably been before she came to China.
He followed her through the bar and outside into the clean, cool night air. “That’s a fucking relief,” he said, pulling in a deep breath. “I can’t get used to the smoke.”
“Yeah.” She was looking down the street for a cab, but Lazhou shops closed early, and traffic was sparse.
“Let’s just walk,” he said, reaching for her wrist.
She pulled her hand away. “Let’s not.”
“What’s going on?”
She waved at a cab, but it drove by, occupied. She muttered something under her breath that Jarek didn’t catch. “Let’s just walk,” he repeated.
“I don’t want to walk with you.” She had her back to him, ramrod straight, as she waited for another cab.
He sighed. “Oliv—”
“Just go back inside, Jarek.”
“I don’t want to go back inside.”
“Then do something else. But don’t talk to me and don’t touch me and don’t get in this cab when it stops.”
A cab had approached, blinker flashing, and was now stopped on the other side of the intersection as the driver waited for the light to change.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, please.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to keep his voice neutral. He had a pretty damn good idea what was bothering her, but she’d seemed in good spirits in the bar, even if she had given him the cold shoulder. He’d almost started to believe he’d imagined the hurt look on her face when he shouted to the whole world that she wasn’t his girlfriend. Which she wasn’t.
“I know I’m not your girlfriend,” she said, turning to look at him. Psychically sucker punching him when he saw the tears in her eyes. “And I know I’ve never done anything to suggest I thought I was. But it was really fucking humiliating to have you announce it to the bar, when everyone at the site knows we’re sleeping together. And it was really fucking humiliating to sit there for three
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