Chapter 10
On Thursday, Scottie walked into the Operations bullpen. She was there to hang a flyer, not to see Willow, but her gaze immediately went to Willow’s desk anyway.
It was empty.
Oh. The hollow feeling in her belly was ridiculous.
“Are you looking for Willow?” Barb called across several desks.
Scottie walked over. “Hey, Barb. No, just swinging by to put up a flyer for trivia night.” She held up the flyer like a piece of evidence proving her nonromantic intentions.
“So if you’re not here to see Willow, that can of antistatic carpet spray is for me?” Barb asked, eyes twinkling.
“Oh, that.” Scottie set it down on Willow’s desk.
“I meant to drop it off all week but kept forgetting.” That wasn’t quite the truth.
She had tried to bribe Mateo to deliver it so she could stay away for a while, but, for once, even the promise of donuts hadn’t been able to sway him.
“Actually, I did bring something for you too.”
Brow furrowed, Barb stared at the small bag of cough candy Scottie handed her.
“You had a really bad cough when I was up here on Monday, fixing the printer,” Scottie said. “I thought these might help.”
A sputtering cough burst from Barb’s chest, sounding suspiciously like suppressed laughter. “Thanks,” she finally wheezed out. “You’re a sweetheart.”
Scottie gave her a nod. “I’ll go hang this up. See you later.” She walked over to the department’s break room, which looked more or less like IT’s break room—just minus the empty energy drink cans and the No trespassing—this means you, Mateo note taped to the fridge.
A long counter with a microwave, a coffee machine, and a small fridge took up the length of one wall.
Two square tables were pushed together in the center, surrounded by a bench and several chairs.
A scarred corkboard on the opposite wall was cluttered with takeout menus from nearby restaurants, internal job postings, and an invitation for Barb’s retirement party.
The faint smell of someone’s lunch hung in the air.
The room wasn’t empty. Willow stood by the counter, making herself a cup of tea.
Scottie paused in the doorway. Even though she had promised herself to keep her distance, Willow radiated a quiet energy and reserved grace that drew her gaze.
Her gray cardigan fell softly over a plain white blouse, and her black slacks emphasized her long legs. Somehow, even the simple act of looping the tea bag’s tag around the mug’s handle looked elegant when she did it.
Finally, Scottie tore her gaze away and entered the break room. “Hi.”
Willow glanced up from her tea. “Scottie? What are you doing here? I didn’t submit a ticket.”
She looked so adorably confused that Scottie couldn’t help laughing.
“Believe it or not, I had work up in Operations before you were hired. Mind you, it wasn’t nearly as interesting.
” She snapped her mouth shut. Ugh. That had sounded way too flirty.
“Actually, I’m here to put this up.” She held up the flyer.
“Trivia night?” Willow read out loud.
Scottie nodded. “Kudos rents out the taproom of a local brewery once a quarter, and the departments take turns hosting. This time, it’s IT’s turn.”
Willow tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, that’s cool.”
“Yeah, it’s fun. Plus we get to eat and drink on the company’s dime.
” Scottie hesitated. She was resolved to stay away from Willow romantically.
But this wasn’t a date; it was practically a work event, right?
It wasn’t as if she was asking her out. She was just being a good colleague who hated seeing Willow spend her breaks by herself, not socializing with anyone.
Maybe Willow was lonely in a new city and too reserved to make friends easily.
“You should come,” she blurted out before she could change her mind.
Willow set down her mug as if afraid it would slip from her grasp. Her gaze darted from a droplet of water on the counter to the microwave, then to the doorway—anywhere but to Scottie’s face. “Uh… Thanks, but…no.”
“No problem,” Scottie said, aiming for a casual tone. She tried to act as if it were no big deal, even as a surprising wave of disappointment washed over her. “Just thought I’d mention it, in case you were interested.”
But Willow clearly wasn’t—not in trivia night and not in Scottie either. It was the second time she’d told her no, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
The rejection landed harder than expected, maybe because Willow hadn’t even added an explanation or an excuse to soften the blow. No Sorry, I’ve got plans that evening. No Trivia really isn’t my thing.
Obviously, it wasn’t about the date or the activity. She simply didn’t want to hang out with Scottie. Like Tanya, Willow didn’t think that Scottie was enough for her either—not as someone to date and not even as someone to spend time with.
The thought twisted her gut. Which was ridiculous, of course, because she and Tanya had been together for ten years, while she barely knew Willow at all.
And now that would never change.
She tacked the flyer to the corkboard, ramming the pin in with more force than necessary.
When she turned back around, Willow was watching her with wide eyes, her long lashes fluttering and her rose-colored lips opening as if she wanted to say something—maybe that she would come to trivia after all. But then she pressed them together and silently reached for her mug.
Scottie pointed her thumb toward the door. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Right.” Willow nodded. “Computers to fix, damsels to rescue and all.”
“Exactly.”
Neither said anything else, so Scottie lifted her hand in a silent goodbye, whirled around, and fled back to the elevator. This must be why self-help experts recommended staying single for a while.