Chapter 11 Elijah
ELIJAH
The weekend passes far too fast for my liking, given how I spent most of it on the phone with Buster working out the accounts, so by the time Monday morning rolls around, it’s like I never left.
“Dude.” Buster’s yawning voice drifts up from where I’ve placed my phone on the desk. “It’s way too early for this shit.”
“I know, but if I don’t stay on top of this, then you’ll never let me live it down.”
“I’ll let you live it down. You want to know why? Because you’ll bankrupt me and I won’t even be able to afford a phone to yell at you.”
“Buster.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t even like being comfortable. You know what? I hate it. Take my money. Take all of it. Bury my name in bad investments and just leave me there.”
“You’re so dramatic sometimes. Has anyone ever told you that?” I lean forward and grab my phone, then prop it up against my travel mug so Buster’s no longer staring at the ceiling.
“Hmm. No. Never been mentioned before,” Buster replies with a smirk while rubbing at his eye. “Fine. I’m awake. Take me through it again.”
“Okay. Everything I’ve seen so far is pretty good. You remember the warehouse I was telling you about?”
“The one where you got to play hero?”
“Dude.”
“What?” He leans close to the screen. “I know you loved it.”
“We’re getting off topic.”
“Are we? You snatch up this little company and just happen to waltz back into the life of the woman you could not stop talking about for months after you met her?”
“It was not months.”
“Why did I give my number instead of taking hers?” Buster whines, poorly mimicking me. “Would it be weird if I went through every single I.D to find out who she was?”
“I do not sound like that.”
“Back then, you did.” He laughs heartily, then clears his throat. “But sure. What you sent from the warehouse looks good. Maybe some logistical troubles, but with an injection of money and manpower, what they have running should support a bigger operation.”
“And the website?”
“It’s decent. I mean, it’s a website. It does what it says on the tin. Although…”
“Although?” My heart jumps faintly. Buster’s not far off the mark. Finding Calliope working here has me doubling down to ensure this deal becomes a roaring success for everyone involved, which is proving more difficult than I’d like.
“It’s not hard to find the history, and I’m finding a lot of stock issues. Products added and then removed within the day. It could be because they do a lot of flash sales, so we’ll need to end those.”
“I can look into it. The pipe’s all fixed now, and as far as I’m aware, the offices have dried out. As long as no one finds mold, everything should be back into the swing of things, so I’ll find out about these sales.”
“Sounds good.” Buster ends the call with a list of legal documents I need to get from Jimmy, and silence falls.
Despite burying myself in work all weekend, Calliope was never far from my thoughts. She remembers me but the past should remain in the past is a pretty clear indication of how she feels about what happened between us.
So why do I still feel the urge to keep going? To do something, anything, that will make her take notice of me and give me another chance? A lot’s changed in six years, but what I feel for her surged up the moment I saw her.
Maybe Buster’s right and it is just infatuation linked to one of my only good memories these past years.
Shoving the paperwork aside, I pocket my phone and head to the nearest breakroom in search of coffee.
It’s far too early for anyone else to be here but as I approach the breakroom, the soft bubbling hum of the coffee machine drifts through the door.
I knock once, not wanting to startle whoever is inside, and enter.
“Calliope?”
She stands in front of the coffee machine with both arms crossed, her head tilting to one side as she gazes unseeing at the pot. When I say her name, she jumps slightly and spins around, causing her ponytail to catch on her shoulder.
“Elijah? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I work here,” she points out.
“I’m… doing work here?” I smile softly, and the slight concern in her eyes melts away.
“Right. Of course you are.”
“I didn’t think anyone else would be here so early.”
“Yeah,” Calliope sighs. She picks up the pot once the beeper rings out. “I had to take Nick in early for an orientation thing at kindergarten so I just came straight here. I want to get a jump on catching up the time we lost last week.”
Kindergarten. My brief interactions with Nick left a sweet, warm impression and a dozen questions I have no right to ask. “Do you think it will take long?”
“To catch up?” She pours her coffee and then glances at me. “Depends on Jimmy. Coffee?”
“Yes, please. What does Jimmy have to do with it?”
She pours a second cup of coffee, then picks up the mug and hands it to me. “I don’t think I should talk about my boss to you.”
“It won’t get back to him,” I say as I accept the mug.
“Sure. I’ve heard that before.”
My brows twitch. “From whom?”
She sets the pot down and picks up her cup. “Literally anyone.”
“Okay. I’m not here to rock the boat, y’know.”
“How would you rock the boat?” She lifts her mug to her lips and locks eyes with me over the rim. “You’re just here to check on your stock and stuff, aren’t you?”
The way she asks fuels the suspicion in the back of my mind that Calliope knows more than she’s letting on.
It’s as if she’s trying to bait me into revealing something that she’s searching for, and while it’s tempting because it aligns with my desire to get closer to her, this deal is about more than just me.
My excuse to her is lost, however, the second I take a mouthful of coffee. Terrible, terrible coffee. “Oh, my God.”
“Isn’t it great?” She smirks. “It’s disgusting but it’s all we’ve got.”
“Who chose this stuff?” I gasp after forcing a swallow. “I’ve tasted nicer dirt.”
“Jimmy’s friend owns the brand, so we get it at a discount.”
“Of course you do.” Setting my cup down, I reach for her cup and take it from her hands as her brows raise. “Come on, I passed a coffee place on the way in and on a Monday morning, we deserve something that isn’t trying to kill us.”
I half expect Calliope to turn me down but to my surprise, she accepts. Five minutes later, we’re standing in line in the coffee shop watching two baristas dart back and forth between the counter and the machines.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” Calliope says, her hands stuffed into her coat pockets as she fights off the lingering cold that followed us in here.
“It’s nice. Don’t really have places like this back in New York.”
“Do you miss it?” She looks up at me and stares at me with such intensity that I’m unable to look away. “New York, I mean.”
“Not even a little.”
“Sucks that you have to go back, then, right? Unless you’re planning on moving out here.”
“It’s tempting.”
“Seriously?” Her lips part. “You’re a big, fancy CEO, right? Don’t you have to be near your company?”
“I’m big enough and fancy enough that I can be anywhere,” I reply with a soft laugh.
“But my company only has its head office in New York. We actually have offices all over the States and all over the world. It’s hard to keep on top of ethical stone mining and creation from a stuffy office a thousand miles away, so I take the chance to travel when I can. ”
“That’s pretty cool.” Calliope tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, smoothing them back into her ponytail.
“We get a lot of emails about that, so I’ve done a lot of research about how the gemstones reach the brands we sell, how safe the precious metals are, and how much of the money goes back to the miners. ”
“It’s a tough line to follow, but it’s worth it.” Too often, I find myself chasing leads that are nothing more than a cover-up for slave labor. Those people fuel a terrible reputation for all gemstone suppliers.
“Harder these days, too,” Calliope agrees as we move up the line. “With how people can 3D print stuff that looks so real at a glance but turns up just a mess. All it takes is one scammer to slap our branding on it and then I’m fielding a hundred calls about our fake jewelry.”
“Combine that with AI creations showing people gemstones that don’t exist and opening up another market for scammers… It’s why it’s so important to me that I know every step. From the crystal mined overseas to where my gems end up.”
“Even in small businesses all the way over here in San Francisco?”
Our eyes meet and my smile warms. “Exactly.”
We reach the counter, and I order us two brown roasted coffees with extra creamer for me, something that makes Calliope chuckle. She keeps it to herself until we’ve acquired our coffees and stepped back out into the bitter January cold.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just didn’t have you pegged as the kind of guy who liked his coffee to be basically syrup.”
“Oh, the creamer?” I bury my smile in a drink that’s equally hot and satisfying. “I actually hate the taste of coffee. I like what it does, don’t get me wrong. But the taste?” I scrunch my nose. “Disgusting.”
“So you’re not a hard ass who drinks it black straight from the pot?”
“Not on your life.”
“Wow, I had you pegged all wrong.” Calliope laughs softly and sips her drink. The moment she groans, my chest lifts with satisfaction. “Oh, that tastes amazing.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Yes, thank you.” She shoots me a glance and smiles, then glances both ways up and down the street before we cross. “If this is a hint to how today is going to go, then I’m in for a good day.”
“Do you get nervous about Nick?” I ask, immediately taking the plunge to find out something about her that isn’t work-related.
“Because of kindergarten?”
I nod.
“Kind of. It was really hard the first time he went, and then it got easier. But…” Her brows dips and her head lowers until I can’t see her face anymore.
She’s studying the top of her coffee cup as we walk, so I use my shoulder to gently guide her steps around some approaching people.
“After my father passed, it got harder. Being away from him is… It’s weird. I don’t know how to explain it. It feels like a part of me is missing, and every call I get when he’s not here just scares me.” She laughs suddenly, an abrupt, hollow sound. “I suppose all parents feel the same.”
“Maybe.” I nod. “Loss can trigger that sort of thing. How does his dad feel about it?”
Calliope’s steps stumble slightly and her head snaps up. “There is no dad,” she says after a moment. “It’s just me and Nick.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Her smile widens, but it doesn’t reach her eyes like before. “What about you? No kids with your wife?”
My brow pinches together. “No kids. And I’m not married.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed since you’re a fancy business owner and all,” she says.
“It’s fine. But no, I don’t have kids. Closest I’ve had was the family dog, and he passed away a couple of years ago, so… just me.”
“I’d love a dog.” Calliope grins, warmth finally returning to her eyes as we turn into the work parking lot. “But I don’t think I could cope with one right now on top of Nick. That’s a bit too much chaos.”
“I can imagine. They say it takes a village to raise a child, don’t they?”
“That they do,” she replies.
Talking to her is easy. Sure, most of her replies can be written off as polite responses to my questions or light efforts to keep the conversation going outside of awkwardness, but every tidbit she gives me is like a drop of water to a parched man.
I want to know everything. Buster was right. I spent months lamenting over her and kicking myself for never getting her number in turn. Now she’s here, and I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
“Calliope,” I say as we enter the building, enveloping ourselves in a comfortable warmth. “I—”
“Calliope!” A woman screeches her name as soon as the elevator doors behind us open and she sprints toward us, her hair flying. “Oh, thank God you’re here, I— Oh. Hello.” She stops dead in front of us, her eyes wide as she gazes up at me, then her attention darts to Calliope. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Calliope replies immediately.
The woman, Victoria, if I remember correctly, glances between our matching coffee cups and then clutches at Calliope’s arm. “Good, because I need your help now!”
I swallow down everything I wanted to say and smile. “Is it something I can help with?”
Victoria gazes at me in alarm and her hands tighten on Calliope’s arm. “Nope! Just Calliope, sorry!” she gasps out, then swiftly drags Calliope into the elevator.