I Like You a Latte {Completed}

24 | Suffering the Hurt

Beverly shook her head, wiping at the tears trailing down her cheeks and trying to keep the small shred that remained of her dignity intact. "It's not," she took a shaky breath, "your fault. I just . . . I haven't been having a good week."

Mr. Knott's expression conveyed genuine regret and sorrow. "I have a feeling it is my fault. Come on, Beverly, let me treat you to dinner."

***

They dined at a cozy Italian restaurant that was so casual it made Mr. Knott look out of place in his tailored business suit.

Over a large cheese pizza, Beverly poured out the story of what had occurred with Cynthia and Griffin, taking a long swig of her iced tea when she had finished. Mr. Knott sighed sadly. "Beverly, this is absolutely my fault. I never should have given you that note; it put you in an unfair position, and Cynthia took her anger out on you when you didn't deserve it. I sincerely apologize."

Wiping her greasy hands off on a napkin, Beverly shrugged noncommittally. "It's really not, Mr. Knott. You gave me the letter, yes, but it was my choice to give it to Cynthia. I could've easily dumped it in the trash, but I didn't. This isn't on you. Not all of it, anyway."

He shook his head in disagreement but didn't speak for several beats. After taking another bite of pizza and chewing it thoughtfully, he said, "Nonetheless, I should make it up to you; what can I do?"

An immediate thought popped into Beverly's head, but she did her best to push it away. It was stupid and silly and totally farfetched, and they didn't know one another that well, although she really did like Mr. Knot.

So, maybe, perhaps . . .?

No, it's dumb.

"How are you spending Christmas?" was out before she could stop it, and she switched her gaze to her stained napkin, trying to hide her embarrassment from him.

Mr. Knott just laughed. "I always spend it by myself, eating food my housekeeper leaves me. Why?"

Twiddling her fingers in her lap, Beverly mumbled, "Could I maybe spend it with you?"

There was a silence, and Beverly was sure that Mr. Knott was disgruntled and unsure of how to process the request. A glance up at him, however, showed him looking a bit emotional. "Really?" he whispered, bending forward and resting his elbows on either side of his plate. "You would want to do that?"

"Well, um," she scratched the side of her neck, "my family is out of town, and I just figured that we're sort of friends, right? And friends can spend Christmas together. We don't have to, of course, but if you want to—"

"I'd love to." His smile was soft. "It's been a while since I've had company. Besides, I see you as family more than a friend; you remind me of my sister."

Beverly grinned toothily. "Well, I've always wanted an older brother, but I'd say you're too old for that. How about you be my honorary uncle?"

He laughed at her teasing. "Sure, Beverly. 'Uncle Francis' has a nice ring to it, actually." He shot her a playful wink, and she wrinkled her nose in response.

"I am not calling you that."

"No? How about 'Uncle Fran'? Or just 'Fran'?"

"No."

"'Franny'?"

"No!"

***

A/N: You ever meet someone and they become a super close, but unexpected friend? Sometimes those are the best. 

Though it is kinda Francis's fault that #grifferly is suffering. . . Hmmm . . . 

Such an injustice towards #grifferly may be unforgivable. I'll think about it some more, collect additional data, and decide how I feel about Francis later. 

In other news: If no one has called you an amazing human today, allow me the honor of being the first. <3 

Stay chillin', peeps, 

A. R.