Chapter 11
Eleven
AUGUST CURRENT DAY (THURSDAY)
I rush to work after spending too long talking to Ali at Kallia. I didn’t have to say anything, but she knew what I was waiting for. My eyes kept flashing to the door, and I’d find ways to draw out the conversation and stay just a bit longer—hoping to see him, hoping he’d show up.
But he didn’t.
I know I pulled away and brought on some uncomfortable moments last night, but that connection between us has been rebuilding one string at a time, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist its pull.
I almost wore his blazer today just because I knew his eyes would be on me all day if I did, but it’s obviously many sizes too large on me and would likely raise questions, so it’s hanging at the front of my closet and I’m in one of my typical pantsuits.
When I get to the office, I do a quick lap, looking for him everywhere, before sulking to my office to unpack when I don’t find him. Damn , why am I so worked up that he’s not here ? He was gone for six years— six —and now he’s back for three days and I’m going out of my mind that he’s late for work. I need to calm down. We have a group meeting in thirty minutes; I’ll see him then. I take a few deep breaths.
I can survive thirty minutes?—
Just kidding.
I can’t.
I try to get some work done but my gaze keeps drifting back to the clock, counting down the minutes until our meeting. And even then, I gather my stuff and head to the meeting room extremely early. I just need to see him, to make sure this hasn’t all been some elaborate dream I concocted.
Finally, people start filing into the room. Clara, then Serge, Ben, then Jason, and lastly, Peter and Mac. I’m still watching the door when Peter starts the meeting and my head whips around to look at him. My eyes are wild, untamed, worried.
I take a deep breath so no panic or surprise creeps into my voice. “Will Warren be joining us?”
Others look around like they hadn’t even realized he wasn’t here, but to me, this room is empty without him.
The corner of Peter’s lips twitch up into the beginnings of a smile that seems to know more than it should. “He’s going to be late today. Some sort of personal issue he had to take care of.”
I nod and smile, but my mind runs through every terrible thing that could’ve happened to him. Is he hurt? Did something happen to one of his parents? Is he okay?
That’s all I care about. I just need him to be okay.
The meeting passes in a blur of voices that I can’t clearly make out because I’m too busy worrying about Warren. I practically run out of the room when we finish and pull out my phone the second I get back to my office.
Me
A personal issue? Everything okay?
It’s as casual a message as I can make it, but I know he’ll see right through it. Right now, I don’t even care. Every emotion that’s been kept deep down in my heart, locked away, is written on my face.
Warren
Aw, you’re worried about me.
I breathe out a sigh of relief and smile. He’s okay. I don’t need to hear anything else to know it.
Me
Wipe that cocky grin off your face.
Warren
I have no such grin on my face.
Me
Liar. I know you better than that.
Warren
And I know you well enough to know you’d do dirty things for this cocky smile.
My mouth pops open. He’s too cocky for his own good . . . but damn him because he’s also right. I love that cocky smile, his confidence, and the way he knows me so well. I can’t even lie and say I wouldn’t do dirty things for that smile. I have done dirty things for that smile and it’s all I can think about right now.
I don’t bother answering the message, but he comes marching into my office later that day with a smirk on his face and I want to lock the fucking door. He doesn’t stop at the door though, he walks right over to me and leans down to whisper in my ear. My eyes close when his breath skates across my skin with the words, “If you keep worrying about me like that, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing dirty things to you.”
My breath stutters. I’m not going to be able to stop myself for much longer either.
He doesn’t stick around. He turns to go, but at the door looks back and gives me one of his sunshine smiles. “I’ll make sure to let you know if I’m going to be late again. Wouldn’t want you to worry.” Then he walks out of the office, and it takes me a long time before I start working again.
* * *
“I heard we have quite a few basketball fans,” I say to everyone at dinner once conversation starts to die down.
Warren looks over at me with interest. Last night he told the friend group about how Peter had box seats to the Washington Wizard’s and they go to games often. It gave me an idea, and after spending a few days with this group, I think they’ll be up for it.
“We try to do half-day Fridays during the summer,” I start, “and I thought we could play some basketball after lunch if people are interested?”
Peter’s face breaks into a smile. “You had me at basketball.”
“That sounds fun,” Mac adds. She smiles when she sees the joy on Peter’s face but quickly looks away.
Clara and Serge are quiet as expected. Neither are sports enthusiasts and I didn’t count on them participating.
“Okay, so that’s four,” I say and start to turn toward Jason and Ben when I notice many confused looks and one sly smile. I smile sheepishly, a flush creeping onto my cheeks that I hope isn’t too noticeable. I didn’t even need to look at Warren to know he was in, but he didn’t give an answer out loud. We definitely played down how well we knew each other the other night, so maybe they didn’t expect it, or maybe it’s still weird that I know him at all. “I already know Warren won’t turn down a game. Jas?—”
I turn to ask Jason if he wants to play but he’s glaring at Warren as he cuts me off and says, “I’m in.”
My lips press into a flat line as I look between them. Jason keeps glaring, but Warren acts like he doesn’t notice—it only causes tension to build in Jason’s face. He’s getting really angry. Yikes. Throwing them into a competitive situation will be . . . interesting to say the least.
Ben agrees and we have six. Three-on-three it is.
I’m trying to figure out what the best team split might be when Peter asks if Warren and I have made any headway on finding out how to keep the consulting side of the business intact. Clara perks up immediately and leans in to listen. She came to find me as soon as the meeting was over on Tuesday in a panic, which is why I was so worried when she told me she accepted this offer prior to my review.
I hate the disappointment on her face when we report that even though we’ve been searching for a solution whenever we have time, we haven’t found anything yet. The hardest part is figuring out what to search for. I would bet my life on there being a solution to this, but we just don’t know how to word the question to make the answer obvious.
I promised her then that I wouldn’t stop until I figured out a way around this, and I assure her again now. “We will keep looking.”
When I look over at Warren, he’s watching the exchange with a small frown, but he nods in agreement with my words.
The exchange seems to sour the mood, and everyone stands to head back. The restaurant tonight was walking distance from the office and hotel, so our group splits up and heads in different directions. Clara and Serge wave and head towards the office to get their cars while Peter and Mac want to check out the town at night. They ask if anyone else wants to join but we all decline. Ben, the quietest of everyone, heads off with a short “Night,” and Jason hangs by my side like a shadow, waiting for me to say what I’m doing first.
I want to walk back with Warren, but Jason won’t let that happen, unless I can come up with an excuse as to why Warren and I are leaving together. I step away from Jason and say, “We’re heading to a friend’s place.”
Perfect—a non-public place so he can’t insist on joining us.
He frowns. “Together?”
Warren steps forward and joins the scene like an actor stepping into a role they were born to play. He doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s someone we both knew from Triniti. When they heard I was in town they invited the old group over.”
Jason glares between us, not yet moving.
“Well, we’re headed this way.” I point in a direction that isn’t towards the office or the hotel, just so I know he has no excuse to try to walk with us. To seal the deal, I let the edge of annoyance into my voice as I add, “Have a good night.”
He grumbles something I can’t make out—and don’t care enough to ask about—and sulks away. Once he turns the corner and is out of sight, I let out a quiet laugh. Warren’s smile is full of amusement.
“I didn’t think he was ever going to leave,” he says.
“That’s Jason for you.” I roll my eyes. “It was easier with you backing up my story. We make a good team.”
“We always have.” His smile is gone, but there’s a different kind of joy present in his features.
I smile and start walking toward the hotel and he falls into step beside me. It’s quiet on the walk there, but it’s a calm, contemplative quiet. It’s the quiet of two people who don’t need words to speak—to communicate—to understand each other. It’s a happy quiet.
A wave of disappointment rolls through me when we get to the hotel. I’m not ready to leave him, but I don’t have a good excuse to stay. I try to hide my excitement when he solves that dilemma for me.
“Stay for a drink at the bar with me?” he offers, and the way he smiles makes it impossible for me to leave.
“Just one.” I smile.
And we both know it’s a lie.