Chapter 25
Danni
Mmm. So warm. Snuggly. Best. Pillow. Ever.
“Well look what the cat dragged in.”
I open my eyes. Morgan is hunched over the bed, beaming.
I close my eyes. Sleepy time not over. Must snuggle against this warm pile of pillowy manliness.
Wait. Pillows aren’t manly. My eyes pop open. My head is resting on Chance’s arm. My arm is draped across his chest.
“You guys have fun last night?” Morgan says.
I look up at Chance. He looks down at me. Panic flashes between us.
“Nothing happened!” I say as my head thuds against the mattress, my Chance-pillow ripped away. He leaps off the bed. Fully clothed. We’re both fully clothed. It was just a dream. A very interesting...
Never mind.
He’s crouched in the corner, hunched over like he’s hiding his nakedness. “We were just sleeping,” he says.
“Geez, you two. I’m just teasing.”
I roll to my side of the bed and pull the comforter up to my chin. Somehow I meandered over to Chance in my sleep. That never happens. I sleep like a corpse.
Chance, realizing he has nothing to hide, straightens. Without a word, he collects his luggage, grins at me and strolls out of the room.
Morgan goes to the window and flings open the curtains. Fluorescent sunlight pours into the room, permanently damaging my retinas.
I sit up. “You!”
“What?” she asks innocently.
“You left me with Chance!”
“I see that.”
“Why?”
“You and Chance had a thing going in the pool. I thought you’d like some privacy.” Morgan plops onto the bed, her smile big enough to cross oceans.
“Me? You were making out with Drew in the hot tub.”
“We were just kissing.”
“And then you went back to his room and did more.”
“Kissing.”
“Right.”
“Mostly kissing.”
“Right.”
“What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“The kind that abandons her friend to the hot coworker that she was determined not to kiss.”
Morgan sucks in a breath and covers her mouth. “You kissed?”
“I woke up using him as a body pillow. What do you think?”
“Was it a good kiss?”
“I’m the first person he’s ever kissed.”
Her excitement dissipates. “So it was bad?”
I flop onto my back and sigh. “It was amazing.”
Morgan starts bouncing up and down. I peer at her. “And how was Drew?”
She bounces higher.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “This is a disaster.”
“Why?” She’s jiggling the entire bed, her excitement causing a mini earthquake.
“We’re on a work trip. They’re our coworkers.”
“Our hot coworkers.”
I peer at Morgan again. “Drew is Drew .”
“I knowww,” Morgan says, swooning.
I chuckle at her and then grab my phone and check the time. “The first sessions start in half an hour!”
Morgan jumps off the bed. “I call shower!”
She’s in there for five minutes. I take a turn, and then we slap on some makeup, gather our things, and meet the guys in the lobby.
Chai World, Day 2, is similar to Day 1. The same suspects, same plot, only today I feel about ten pounds lighter and I can’t shake this warm tingly feeling. It lingers all day and into the van for the drive home. Chance and I share smiles as we climb into the front. He doesn’t even ask me if he can play his country. However, when Morgan and Drew start kissing in the back, I say loudly, “Wanna listen to something?”
He picks normal country that has a rock vibe. No cow tipping bingo included, so I can handle it. After a half an hour of listening to his music, I get to choose the next half hour, and so on and so forth, except for potty breaks (at legitimate restrooms and rest stops) and a quick dinner that we order from the drive-through.
By the time Chance drops me off, I’m beat. He helps me drag my luggage up the steps and we part ways, no kissing, shy smiles only. I don’t bother unpacking, just flop face-first onto my bed and sleep without changing my clothes.
The next morning, I’m exhausted but I force myself to shower and eat something. Strangely, Chance and I don’t leave for work at the same time. His car is still parked in his spot, so I shoot him a text. When he doesn’t answer, I shrug and drop my car into drive. It was a long trip yesterday. I don’t blame him for taking the day off.
At work, I download my notes from Chai World and begin crafting mind-numbingly boring PowerPoint slides. I’d make them interesting if I could, but the subject matter makes it impossible.
At quarter after ten, Chance’s body arrives. His head, I’m not so sure. I assume it’s there, but it’s in some kind of pillow with eyeholes. He sits and logs in like there’s nothing strange going on.
“You under there?” I ask.
I hear a muffled mmm-hmmm in response.
“And what exactly are you wearing?”
“An Ostrichpillow.” Still muffled.
“Any reason?”
“It filters out the noise on top of the noise. Also, if I need a nap, no one will know I’m asleep sitting up.”
“We have a meeting in fifteen minutes. You gonna wear that thing?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
I settle back into my seat, chuckling to myself. “Don’t forget to create your Chai World slides.”
He gives me a thumbs-up.
When it’s time for our team meeting, Chance marches to the conference room with the Ostrichpillow on his head, tripping over his feet along the way and plowing into Juanita’s back.
“Watch where you’re going,” Juanita barks. “What is that puffy thing on your head?”
He doesn’t answer, or if he does, I can’t hear because I’m behind him admiring his swagger, two left feet and all.
We gather around the conference room table, Morgan next to Drew, Drew with his blinkers on, Juanita and Violet holding up one end of the table. Heng and Abeer are looking at something under the table. Probably Abeer’s phone in case Juanita goes off about something in Spanish.
“What’s this about?” Bruce asks. He’s lounged comfortably in his chair with his hands on his stomach.
“Somebody left their milk carton in the fridge for a month and a half and stunk up the place,” Juanita says.
All eyes land on Drew. “It was not mine,” he says.
“Yeah, right,” Juanita quips. “You’re the one who mixes up those muscle-building drinks every day that give you the burps and the farts.”
“He’s taking Lactaid now,” Morgan says.
“Lactaid doesn’t keep milk from going sour,” Violet says.
“This meeting is not about a milk carton,” Drew says.
“I think we’re getting telework,” Bruce says smugly. The room erupts with comments.
“How do you know?”
“How many days?”
“Is it full-time?”
“Does that mean I don’t have to see you crybabies anymore?”
Christopher walks in amidst the chatter. He sets his laptop on the table before taking a seat. “The rumor is true,” he says over the competing voices.
Everyone shuts up and looks at him.
“The CEO approved telework starting Monday.”
Cheers erupt from every side of the table. I sit quietly, waiting to hear more, hoping it’s not one hundred percent.
Christopher pumps his hands to get us to be quiet. “Two days a week in the office. You choose the days. The rest of the days, you can work from home.”
Gasps of excitement thin the atmosphere in the room. Okay, it’s not bad. Morgan, Kayla, and I can come in on the same days. And Drew and Chance can…I don’t know. Are Morgan and Drew a couple? Are Chance and I a couple?
“You have the rest of the week to work with the help desk to get your VPN up and running. You should probably test it from home by Friday to see if you can connect remotely. Also, I’m sending you a form to sign. You have to agree to keep your work area free of wires that might cause you to trip. Among other things. Chance, what is that on your head?”
“An Ostrichpillow,” he answers, sounding like his mouth is full of cotton.
“Do you mind taking it off for the meeting?”
“Only if Drew takes off his blinkers.”
Drew’s eyes scan left and right. Once again, he forgot he was wearing them.
“Drew,” Christopher says, sounding uncharacteristically grumpy, “You’re not pulling a carriage down Anson Street. You can take off the eye panel thingies.”
“I would not have to wear them if our cubicles had walls.”
“I wouldn’t have to stop my meeting if you two weren’t causing disruptions.”
The mood in the room drops. We’re not familiar with irritable Christopher. He’s usually harping about our next team-building event. Something is off.
Chance removes the Ostrichpillow. His hair looks like it’s been slept on, crammed into a toilet, and styled in a blender. Juanita and Violet snicker. I hide my laugh behind my hand. Chance doesn’t bother to smooth his flyaways.
Drew also complies with Christopher’s request, folding his blinkers and chucking them onto the table. Morgan grabs them and hides them in her lap.
“What’s up, boss. You seem grumpy.” Bruce says. The man has no fear. Why would he? He’s the biggest guy in the room.
“I do have one other announcement. It’s…” His voice quivers. He pushes his laptop away. “I’m quitting.”
Again, the room is a chorus of gasps, but these aren’t happy inhalations. After the moment of shock passes, layered chatter fills the room. Christopher gestures for us to quiet down. “I put my two weeks in this morning.”
“You’re leaving, as in goodbye?” Violet asks.
“Yes,” Christopher answers.
“I thought you were leveling up to corporate,” Abeer says.
“I was.” Christopher’s face is somber. “And now I’m not. But I’ll be here for two more weeks, so… Class dismissed.”
Nobody moves.
“You can go now,” he tries again.
We all stare at him.
“We like you, Christopher,” Juanita says. “You’re the best boss.”
Others voice their agreement.
“I’m sure your next boss will be even better,” he says. He stands, gestures for us to rise. A few do, reluctantly. “No sad faces. It’s the circle of life. Run along ducklings.”
His humor bolsters us. We stand and shuffle. I head straight to my desk to finish my PowerPoint slides.
Morgan, Kayla, and I chat briefly on Teams about what days we want to work in the office. Kayla wants Monday and Tuesday. I tell her I want to sleep in and work in my pajamas on Monday. Morgan suggests Thursday and Friday, but Kayla is staunchly against coming in on Fridays. We’ll agree on something eventually. Until then, I gotta work. Thanks to Chai World, I’m behind on my coding.
I work through lunch despite Morgan’s protesting. At twelve thirty, I warm up a pot pie and eat it at my desk. I’m shoveling it in my face when Chance’s Ostrichpillow peeks around the desk divider.
I can’t suppress my laughter. “How do you breathe in that thing?”
“Like an ostrich.”
“Ostriches have beaks.”
“I’m working on one. I’m going to have Drew 3D print it.”
“That’s weird.”
“Need a break?”
I give Chance’s padded head a light punch.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“You’re wearing a padded helmet. Absorbing punches is what it’s for.”
“It’s for drowning out the noise on top of the noise. And it’s not doing very well. Which is why I need a break. Wanna come?”
“Only if you take that thing off.”
He pulls the pillow off his head. His upper lip is sweaty and his hair is even wilder now. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it. No one here knows Chance and I kissed except for Morgan and Kayla. The last thing I need is for my coworkers to start spreading rumors. Are Chance and I a thing? I have no idea.
“I suppose I could stand a break.”
He wipes his lip, takes a long swig of Coke, and then we’re off. In the lobby, he asks me where I want to go.
“We could walk by the harbor.” It’s not too hot today. I think we might survive. After an hour in that Ostrichpillow, eighty degrees probably feels great to Chance.
We head to Murray Boulevard, passing the edge of White Point Garden along the way before turning onto the sidewalk overlooking the harbor. White Point Garden’s harbor frontage stretches to the left while the murky waters of Charleston Harbor glisten on the right. The waves are small today, fueled by the gentle breeze and industrial shipping traffic.
“What days do you think you’ll be in the office?” Chance asks.
“Morgan, Kayla, and I were discussing it on Teams. We’re not sure. They don’t want to do Monday or Friday, so that leaves midweek. What about you?”
He glances down at me. “I was going to wait to see when you were coming in. If you don’t mind.”
I bump him with my shoulder.
“Does that mean you don’t mind?”
I bump him again.
“Hey.” He grabs my arm.
“Of course, I don’t mind.”
“Because I thought…” He shrugs slightly and then lets go. “Never mind.”
We continue walking. Rather than stuffing his hand back into his pocket, he trails his fingers along the inside of my arm. I thread my fingers through his. My coworkers aren’t here to see it. No harm done.
We breathe in the salty air that carries hints of decomposing fish and blooming algae. After rounding the corner of Murray and Battery, Chance speaks up again.
“Do you think Morgan and Drew are going to last?”
I rest my head against Chance’s shoulder as we stroll along the water’s edge. “I don’t know. Morgan is lively and outgoing, and Drew doesn’t use contractions.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“It’s a little strange.”
“That’s just Drew.”
“Yeah, it is. And he’s not going to change. And Morgan isn’t going to change. They might be too different.”
“They both like to code.”
“Morgan secretly hates it.”
“Oh.”
Two seagulls fly overhead, one in pursuit of the other. The trees of White Point Garden give way to historic houses that are way out of my budget, but wow, they have a nice view.
Chance stops and leans against the metal railing. He tugs me closer. “What about us?”
The breeze bathes me in his cologne. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face against his chest. “I don’t know, what about us?” I ask coyly. Whatever is on his mind, he has to say it. I’m not finishing his thought.
“Are we too different?”
I look up at his messy hair, his dark irises that are almost black, his deep complexion, and his pink lips.
“We’re not that different,” I say.
He relaxes a little and smiles, and then he pulls me in and presses his lips against my forehead. This might be the end of me. This simple kiss. But I still have work to do. And we still haven’t established what it is we’re doing here.
“We better get back to work,” I say.
Chance releases me. He trades my right hand for my left and we quietly retrace our steps.
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asks when we’re near Citizen’s Tower.
“I’m giving myself an advance on my overtime and buying two cans of paint.”
“What do you plan to do with them?”
“Well, first I’m going to open them. Then, I’m going to pour the paint into those tray thingies, and then I’m going to smear it on my wall and my bookshelf.”
“Spoken like a true professional. You went to school for this. You’ll be done in no time.”
I look up at him sheepishly. “We both know there was no trade schooling involved in my computer science degree.”
He chuckles. “I’m just messing with you.”
“I’ve never painted anything but my nails.”
He stops walking but I continue. Our joined hands keep us connected, pulling our arms taut. “Really?”
“It’s okay. That’s what YouTube is for.”
“I’ve painted a few walls since I came back to the States. I could help if you want.”
“You’ve never seen my apartment.”
“Is it bad?”
“It’s full of Hello Kitty paraphernalia.”
He pulls me closer. I tense up, the fear of spying coworkers crushing my mojo.
“I think I can handle it,” he says. “So?”
I release his hand and resume walking. “See you then, crybaby. Leave your Ostrichpillow at home.”