I was trying to dice carrots like they had personally offended me when I felt it—the weight of a stare heavy enough to warm the back of my neck.
Mr Knight.
He'd been doing it since I walked in. Silent. Observant. Weirdly… intense.
And I hated that I could feel him without looking.
I chopped harder.
"Emma," he said finally, voice low, too calm to be normal.
I didn't turn. "Hmm?"
"You're… off today."
I swallowed. "Just tired."
Lie. Huge lie. Colossal lie.
I wasn't tired. I was catastrophically overwhelmed.
My mother and aunt had shown up unannounced.
I'd had to lie to their faces about my job.
My nerves were jumpy. My brain was broken.
And the memory of that accidental kiss with Mr Knight kept ambushing me every two minutes.
Like right now.
I cut the carrot wrong and almost took off my thumb.
Mr Knight exhaled sharply. "You're distracted."
No kidding.
