No, Mya. Get your mind out of the gutter.
I’m aiming to be his employee—his subordinate. Not someone who daydreams about him in ways that would definitely violate a HR policy. And besides, I’m too young for him.Waytoo young.
Either way, this is a big gamble. He’s already made it clear he didn’t want to hire me.
But what do I have to lose?
I step back out, cheeks still warm, a timid smile tugging at my mouth. I can feel the embarrassment in my eyes as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.
Worth is at the counter, and his gaze immediately lands on me. His brow furrows, like he’s only just placing me.
“Good morning, Mr Miller.”
“Mya, is it?”
“Uh, yeah. Hi. Nice to see you again.” I extend my hand before I can overthink it.
He waits a beat too long. My smile falters and I start to pull back, mortified, when his fingers close around mine at the last second.
A spark shoots up my arm. My pulse spikes, and for half a second, the room narrows to just the two of us.
We both let go quickly, and I try to pretend nothing happened.
What was that?
“Likewise,” he says flatly.
I yank my hand back and stuff it into my pocket like I can smother the zing still humming under my skin.
“I didn’t realize you worked here.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I figured it wouldn’t help my chances,” I admit. “It’s just temporary anyway.” I shift my weight and tuck a loose curl behind my ear, wishing it would behave.
Eric slides Worth’s order across the counter—two drinks and a bag with muffins. Worth nods to him, then to me. “Thanks. Well, best of luck, Mya.”
I paste on a polite smile in return.
As he turns away, I stand there with a thousand bad ideas crowding in.
Should I go over and explain that I wasn’t trying to be insubordinate at the interview? That I panicked and my mouth outran my judgment? I should definitely apologize, at least.
I glance toward his table. He’s already seated, jacket off, sleeves rolled, smiling at his daughter as she digs into one of the pastries.
You could walk over there, Mya. Own it.
Or you could leave with what little dignity you have left.
I wipe my palms on my apron. Then I square my shoulders and make myself move.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Miller. I was actually wondering if I could have a word?”
He glances up. “Sure,” he says, leaning back in his seat.
I turn to the young girl across from him and soften. “Hi, I’m Mya.”
She smiles politely. “I’m Brianna. Nice to meet you.”
I draw a breath, fingers knotting together to stop them from shaking. “I just wanted to apologize if I came across unprofessional during the interview. Bringing up my father and speaking to you the way I did was inappropriate. I don’t know what I was thinking; I promise that isn’t how I normally conduct myself.”