Quiet Types, page 10
I stood there, my insides dancing around like crazy, as he and his dog walked away down the street.
***
Over the next two days, Shay and I fell into an easy rhythm. We sat next to each other on the bus, he’d teach me some sign language, while typing the things out on his phone too difficult to explain merely by nodding or shaking his head. A new aspect of our friendship was him walking me to my flat after we got off the bus in the evenings. I offered for him to come inside on both occasions, but he declined.
I couldn’t tell if it was because my flat was grotty, and he didn’t want to spend time there, or merely because he had to get home to his dad. I hoped it was the latter. And besides, my flat might’ve been worse for wear, but it was spotlessly clean. It wasn’t like it was a messy dump or anything.
On the third day, Wednesday, I just arrived at work when I noticed something small and rectangular in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and realised it was Shay’s phone. Oh, crap. He’d been typing me more and more messages using his notes app lately, and with practice, I’d been getting better at reading them. I’d been so engrossed in our conversation that morning I must’ve slipped his phone in my pocket by mistake before we left the bus.
Feeling panicked he might need it in case of an emergency, I considered hurrying over to the hotel where he worked and trying to find him. If it were any other day, I would’ve gone, but that day, I was cleaning for Mrs Reynolds, and she’d tear me a new one if I started late.
Deciding my best option was to walk to the hotel and find Shay during my lunch hour, I sighed and placed his phone in my bag for safekeeping. The screen was blank, and I didn’t know his pin code. If I did, I might’ve been able to call his dad or his cousin, Rhys, to let them know I had his phone. But it was probably for the best I didn’t have the pin. That way, Shay would know I hadn’t tried to snoop in his messages. Not that I would have anyway.
I got to work, starting on the bathrooms, and I was about to move onto the kitchen when Mrs Reynolds appeared in the hallway. She wore pressed pants and a pale pink blouse, her hair looking fresh and voluminous like she’d just been to the salon. I tensed when I saw her, just as I always did. Any interaction with Mrs Reynolds had the potential to bruise my confidence and ruin my day.
“Maggie, there you are,” she said, and I prepared myself for possible criticism or a dressing down. To my relief, it never came.
“I’m hosting a surprise party for Clark’s fortieth birthday here at the house this month. It’s going to be a large affair, and I was hoping you’d be free to work that night? I thought it a good idea to have a cleaner on hand to keep everything tidy during the party. The guest list has a few famous names, so I need everything to be just perfect.”
Clark was her husband. As far as I knew, he was an investment banker and had a lot of influential friends. “Yes, I can make sure I’m available. Just let me know the date and times.”
Mrs Reynolds beamed. “You’re a doll. I’ll text you the details.”
With that, she left, her expensive high heels clicking as she went. It was a rare occasion Mrs Reynolds was in a good mood. She must’ve had high hopes for the birthday party. Well, of course, she did. Sariah Reynolds loved nothing more than being able to show off her beautiful home to esteemed guests.
I got back to cleaning, then hurried in the direction of the Balfe Hotel at lunch. I only had an hour to spare, but the hotel was a short walk away, so I knew I’d be able to get there and back quickly.
It was windy out and my hair was completely frizzed up by the time I reached the hotel. When I arrived, I went to the front desk, which was probably a bad idea because the smartly dressed receptionist gave me a sharp look up and down as I approached. I knew it was a five-star establishment, and I didn’t look like their regular clientele in my cheap coat and worn shoes. Still, there was no need for him to look at me like he just smelled something bad.
It brought on an unpleasant feeling—the same feeling I’d get as a child when Mam never bothered to wash my clothes, and I had to go to school in dirty ones. Other kids would look at me like I was unclean and refuse to play with me out in the yard during breaks.
“Hi,” I said to him, shoving down the bad memory. I wasn’t a child anymore, and I refused to let anyone look down on me. So, I plastered on a polite smile in the face of his obvious disdain and continued, “I’m looking for Shay Riordan. He works here as a security guard.”
The receptionist, whose name tag read “Lloyd,” narrowed his gaze. “I don’t know anyone here by that name.”
“Oh,” I replied, frowning and glancing around, momentarily wondering if I’d gotten the wrong place. There were a bunch of hotels in the neighbourhood. A middle-aged couple came to stand behind me, waiting to be checked in.
“If you don’t mind, there are guests waiting for my assistance,” Lloyd said, motioning to the couple.
“Are you certain he doesn’t work here?” I asked. “He’s tall with dark brown hair.”
Lloyd exhaled impatiently, which somehow worked to make me feel like an unimportant nuisance. “As I said, I don’t know who that is. Now, please step aside, Miss.”
“I think she wants the guy Rhys Doyle hired,” one of the other receptionists, who was standing at the other end of long the desk, said. “You know …” she trailed off, eyeing Lloyd meaningfully. “The one who doesn’t speak.”
Lloyd’s gaze widened as he turned back to me. “Well, you could’ve just said you were looking for the mute security guard. That would’ve been far more helpful,” he sniped, and my expression flattened. I didn’t like him talking about Shay so dismissively.
“Since it’s your job, you should consider being a little more polite to the people asking for your help,” I told him sharply.
Something about the guy’s attitude just rubbed me the wrong way. Especially the way he’d spoken about Shay. The female receptionist at the other end of the desk stifled a grin at my statement. Clearly, she wasn’t Lloyd’s biggest fan either.
“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Lloyd responded, his face darkening.
Before I could respond, a familiar voice asked, “Is everything okay here?”
I turned and found Rhys standing a few feet away. Shay was next to him, his expression surprised but his eyes warm as they landed on me. It looked like they were in the middle of something because Rhys was holding a radio and a scratchy voice came through giving details of an incident in the hotel’s restaurant. Shay’s eyes held a question, and I stepped up to him, pulling his phone from my bag.
“Hi,” I said, my voice breathy. “I’m so sorry for just turning up like this, but I mistakenly put your phone in my pocket this morning, and—”
My words cut off when Shay stepped closer, taking his phone and briefly pressing his hand to the small of my back before he turned and signed something to Rhys.
“It’s fine. I can deal with this myself. Jean is in the office. Go and tell her she can take her break,” Rhys replied to him.
With that, he went, and Shay took my hand, his fingers gripping tightly as he motioned to the left and led me away from the reception desk. I took a quick peek at Lloyd, who was still glowering at me while checking in the couple who’d been waiting behind me.
The whole time Shay held my hand, my heart pounded, my skin tingling where our palms touched. He opened the door to a windowless office room that had a wall of monitors showing security footage from various parts of the hotel. A woman with short brown hair sat on a swivel chair, turning when we entered.
“Is it my turn to go on break?” she asked as soon as she spotted Shay.
He nodded, and she stood immediately, rubbing her hands together. “Great. I’m fecking starving.”
She smiled at me politely before heading for the door. Just before she left, she motioned to the swivel chair next to the one she’d been sitting in. “Don’t sit on that one, by the way. The spring’s broken. It’s a bloody death trap. I already mentioned to Rhys it needs to be replaced.”
Shay acknowledged her with a glance, and she went, leaving me alone with him in the small room. I had a sandwich in my bag I needed to eat before I got back to work, but I could spare a few minutes with Shay.
He took the seat his coworker had vacated, then grabbed a mouse and flicked through footage on one of the screens. When he was satisfied with whatever he was looking at, he turned around to face me.
“I feel so terrible about taking your phone. I would’ve waited to give it back to you on the way home, but I worried there might be an emergency, and you wouldn’t be able to call anyone.”
Shay’s expression softened as he gazed at me. He didn’t respond with a written message, nor any other form of communication, but from the way he was looking at me, I could tell he wasn’t mad at me for turning up.
“That receptionist is a bit of a snoot, isn’t he?” I continued because he just kept looking at me in a very intense way, and I felt the need to fill the quiet. “He kept saying he didn’t know who you were when I asked for you. Well, I suppose that doesn’t sound very rude on the surface, but it was the way he said it, you know?”
Shay’s expression was flat, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes as he listened to me, like he was bothered on my behalf. I glanced at the time on the digital clock next to one of the monitors. “Anyway, I should probably get going. I’m on my lunch break, and I haven’t eaten yet.”
Stay, Shay signed at me, and I was so surprised I understood what he said.
I smiled. “Did you just ask me to stay?” He nodded, and I smiled wider. “Wow, I actually got that. All those bus journey lessons are beginning to pay off, eh?”
I was so pleased with myself I moved to sit on the seat next to him before I remembered his coworker saying it was a death trap. Instead, I perched on the edge of the narrow desk before digging in my bag for the sandwich and bottle of water I packed. I gestured to the wrapped sandwich. “Do you want half?”
He shook his head, and I started to unwrap it. “You’re probably better off. It’s only plain cheese.”
Taking a bite, I chewed and tried to get comfortable on the desk, but it wasn’t big enough to accommodate me. The next thing I knew, Shay was taking my hand and pulling me over to sit on his lap. His other hand went to my hip to balance me, and my heart beat rapidly as my bottom met his strong thighs. I had to take a moment to calm myself because sitting like that was more intimate than we’d been so far. My entire body fizzled with sensation as I tried to contain all that I was feeling.
“You could’ve given me a little warning,” I said with a breathy chuckle.
Of course, he didn’t respond, just turned the chair a little so he could concentrate on the monitors while I ate. It was difficult to focus on my sandwich, especially when his arm came to rest loosely around my middle. I took a bite, barely tasting a thing, while Shay flicked between cameras, keeping an eye on the hotel’s communal areas. He leaned forward as he concentrated on what appeared to be the main lobby, his chest warm and solid at my back.
“I’m in your way,” I said quietly, moving to climb off him, but his arm around my middle tightened, holding me in place. Electricity zinged through me. I willed my heart to slow down as I continued, “Okay, well, just let me know if you need me to move.”
The next few minutes passed in silence while I finished eating. I was incredibly aware of Shay’s heat at my back, of every time our arms brushed, every rustle of fabric. It was nearing the time when I really needed to leave, but I didn’t want the moment to end. Sitting on Shay’s lap was perhaps the most exciting thing to happen to me all year. I found him so incredibly attractive, even more so as I got to know him better.
I glanced down at his hand where it rested in the centre of my lap. It was oddly mesmerising. I liked being that close to him, so close I could smell his fresh, citrusy cologne, could feel his warmth.
“I have to be getting back now,” I said at last, and his arm finally loosened, allowing me to stand. I mourned the loss of his hold and knew I could’ve happily spent all day sitting there while he watched those security monitors.
Zipping up my coat and hitching my bag over my shoulder, I did something I never imagined I would’ve been brave enough to do only a few days ago. I bent and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where it always creased whenever he smiled at me. I felt him inhale sharply and nervous energy flooded my system. I could hardly believe I just did that, and a part of me wanted to do more. I wanted to kiss him fully on the lips, but I didn’t have the courage. His eyelids lowered to my mouth as I drew away, and I wasn’t mistaken at the heat I saw in his expression.
Unable to handle the intensity for a second longer, I blurted, “See you later,” then hurried from the office.
9.
Shay
My chest felt pleasantly light as my hand rose to the spot where Maggie’s lips had been. They were soft, hesitant, and I’d fought the urge to turn my head and capture her mouth. I wanted to kiss her the way I sometimes thought about when we sat quietly together on the bus, but I refrained. My gut instinct told me to be patient because I sensed she didn’t allow herself to get close to people very often.
Admittedly, I was surprised to see her at the hotel. I hadn’t even noticed my phone was missing until she turned up with it. The look on her face as she stood in the lobby, like she was doing something wrong just by being there, made me irritable.
I wanted her to know she never had to feel that way, not with me.
I also wanted nothing more than to give that prick, Lloyd, a piece of my mind for being rude to her. But that was the tragedy of my life. I wasn’t equipped to have strong words with people, though I did intend to glower at him intensely the next time our paths crossed.
Throughout my life, I’d had to utilise other forms of communication outside of speech. My facial expressions were one. Body language worked, too. You’d be amazed by what you could express simply from the way you stood, the slant of your head, if your shoulders were relaxed or tense, arms folded or by your sides.
Pulling Maggie onto my lap was an exaggerated form of body language communication. I wanted her to know I was a safe place for her, that she was always welcome to come closer if she needed to.
I just hated the idea of her walking all the way to the hotel and then a receptionist giving her shit. My annoyance at the whole situation was why I acted so forward with her when we were alone in the office. I’d yanked her onto my lap like I had every right to, like she belonged there. Because as far I was concerned, she did.
The combination of her flowery perfume and her jasmine scented shampoo was intoxicating. I could hardly focus on the monitors the entire time she’d sat there as I fought the urge to lean in and kiss her soft, delicate neck.
You need to quit thinking about her.
More and more lately, my head was full of Maggie. I hadn’t been able to stop fretting about what she told me on Sunday, how her mam kicked her out when she was just sixteen. What kind of parent did something like that to their own teenager? She hadn’t elaborated on where she went or what happened to her afterwards, and I hadn’t been able to ask, but just thinking of her all alone and possibly on the streets felt physically painful, even if it happened many years ago.
It was amazing how well she was doing considering her start in life. She’d clearly been self-conscious about her flat, and yes, the building itself was a little rundown, but I’d loved being in her space. It was small and cosy and smelled like her jasmine shampoo. She’d made the place a home, put her stamp on it, and I liked seeing where she spent her time when she wasn’t working or taking the bus.
Remembering my phone, I pulled it out to check if I’d gotten any missed calls or messages while Maggie had it. There was a voicemail from Nigel, but I didn’t bother listening. It was only going to be the same iteration of the apologies he’d given over the last few days. That he was determined to act better and not drink so much anymore. That he was sorry for being a bully to Maggie and her neighbours.
That was all well and good, but I still thought he deserved to suffer for a little longer. And besides, it wasn’t me he needed to be saying sorry to. It was Maggie and her neighbours.
In fact, that was a good idea.
I typed him a message.
Me: Go and apologise to Maggie and her neighbours in person. Then I’ll forgive you.
He didn’t respond right away. It was a few hours later when I was nearing the end of my shift that I finally received a reply.
Nigel: Fair enough. I’ll do it.
I was satisfied with his response until a part of me started to worry he wouldn’t apologise at all and would instead go over there and give her a piece of his mind for telling me what he did.
Nigel had a bit of a petulant, vindictive streak when the mood took him. It wasn’t an admirable quality, but we’d known each other for so long I tended to overlook it. Perhaps that was wrong of me, but I was close to so few people I didn’t want to throw away a friendship just because of one or two small personality flaws.
When I reached the bus stop that evening, Maggie was already there, wrapped up in a patterned scarf, her navy coat buttoned to her chin. A warmth spread across my chest when our eyes met, and my stomach gave a weird pang, like yearning. I wished the bus wasn’t the only place we got to see each other and wondered if she’d come to dinner at my house again. Hopefully, Nigel hadn’t scared her off completely.
“Hey,” she said as I stepped close enough our arms brushed.
I met her gaze, dipping my head in greeting and noticing her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red from the cold. I was struck with the sudden urge to give her some of my warmth. Stepping even closer, Maggie watched me curiously, then inhaled sharply when I lifted her smaller hands into mine. There were faint calluses on her fingers, which made me frown because I knew they came from working so hard. Some part of me wished to whisk her away from it all, make her life frictionless. I wasn’t sure where the instinct came from, but I knew it wasn’t realistic. I wasn’t some rich bloke who could fix all her problems with money, but I could fix one thing right now. I could chase away her chill.
