Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
O h my God. What have I done?
I tumbled out of bed the next morning, recalling the impulsive decision I’d made the night before. Why did I let FOMO get the better of me? I should never have booked that flight to London on a whim. I hadn’t done enough research. I hadn’t even sorted out a working visa, and I’d just thrown a huge chunk of my savings at a non-refundable ticket.
Argh!
Oh well. The damage was done. The ticket was booked, and there was no turning back. I had to make it work, somehow.
I went through my usual morning routine on autopilot. Shower, coffee, toast, makeup. The whole time, my mind buzzed with anxieties. Would I be able to pay off my student loan in time? Could I get a job in London? What about a flat? Would Hannah let me flat with her? How would I divide my time between work and travel?
Stop it. You’ll figure it out.
I stepped outside the building, letting the door swing shut behind me. It made a satisfying clunk as it closed.
Wait a second.
That sound was unfamiliar. I turned back and pulled the handle. The door wouldn’t budge. It was locked.
Has it been fixed?
I opened the door with my key card and tried it once more, in case it was a fluke. The door swung shut on its own and locked securely.
There was no other explanation. The door had been repaired. Hooray! No more worrying about packages getting stolen or strangers wandering into the building.
But when had it happened? It wasn’t like this yesterday, and I hadn’t noticed any work being done.
I shrugged. No time to dwell on the mysteries of apartment maintenance. I had a job to get to.
As I prepared Neil’s morning coffee, I wondered whether it would be awkward to mention that I had seen him last night. Just casually. Maybe he’d tell me who that woman was. I was curious about her. That’s all.
The smell of the black coffee wafted from the mug, waking my senses as I walked to Neil’s office. Neil didn’t seem to register my approach. He sat at his desk, working on his computer, the cuffs of his shirt falling back to reveal a glimpse of his strong forearms. Lines of concentration creased his forehead.
The coffee cup made a thunk as I set it in front of him. I cleared my throat.
I’m going to do it. I’m going to say something about last night.
Neil stopped typing and looked at me. The words that were on the tip of my tongue dried up.
“What?” Neil asked.
I couldn’t do it. I was too embarrassed to admit I had seen him.
Neil scrutinised me, unblinking. I had to say something. “The door of my apartment building has been fixed,” I blurted.
“Yes.”
“ Yes? ”
“I know.”
It took me a second to process what his odd reaction meant. “Are you telling me you’re behind it? You got someone to fix it?”
“I don’t like you living in a place with such a lax definition of security.”
“Why are you so concerned about my security?”
“Because you’re associated with me.”
“And being associated with you puts me at risk, does it?”
Neil ground his teeth, the throbbing vein on his forehead a telltale sign I was annoying him. “Just do your job and stop asking questions.”
“But—”
He glowered at me.
Wow. He was in a foul mood today.
“Right,” I mumbled.
I returned to my desk, seething.
Why do I even care who that woman was? I don’t like Neil. She can have him. It’s fine by me. Once I leave the country, Neil will be a distant memory.
Despite what I told myself, bitterness gnawed at me like a persistent ache. I turned my attention to work to take my mind off it.
We didn’t have any meetings that morning, but after a couple of hours in my chair, I needed to get up and stretch, so I walked to reception to chat with James.
“Ah. Just the person I needed to see,” James said.
“What’s up?”
He placed a nondescript white package on the desk. “Were you expecting a package? This got delivered here, but I can’t read the label. It looks like it ends with an S, don’t ya think? It could be the end of Cross.”
I studied the label, trying to decipher it. Some kind of inky smudge had blotted out most of the name. But James was right. The last letter was partially visible, and it resembled an S.
“I wasn’t expecting anything. Does anyone else’s name end in S on this floor?”
“Nope. Only you.”
“Hmm. Maybe if no one else claims it today, I’ll take it.”
“Good plan.”
I racked my brain, trying to recall whether anyone might send me something at work, but I couldn’t think of anything. Maybe it wasn’t an S. Maybe it was for someone else.
It didn’t strike me until a couple of hours later what the package contained, and by then, I prayed it wasn’t too late.