Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Harrison
I’m two hours late getting to the office. Okay, I’m technically not late for anything except that I desperately wanted to get back in time to talk to Delaney.
I wrack my brain trying to figure that woman out. It was clear I pissed her off when I acted like a caveman at the building department last week. I thought she had forgiven me, though.
It seemed like it, but maybe I really don’t know how to read women anymore. I scour my memory trying to pinpoint what I misunderstood.
I can’t stand knowing she’s angry at me. I’ve walked by her desk twice since we’ve been back from the building department, and she’s completely ignored me. If I needed more proof, the untouched pink smoothie sitting exactly where I left it on her desk speaks volumes.
Now I have to pull out all the stops. It could backfire, but I’m going to try. I grab my kale smoothie and march out to her desk. She pretends I’m not there, but I’m all in, so I wait. It pays off when she sighs, looks up at me with an expressionless face, and crosses her arms.
Here goes.
“Never have I ever acted like an asshole and embarrassed my colleague at the Aron Falls Building Department.”
I lift the straw to my mouth and take a sip of the smoothie, never moving my eyes from her face. That’s how I notice the hint of a smile forming at the corner of her mouth.
“You’re playing it wrong,” she says in a quiet voice. Still, she lifts her smoothie, takes a small sip, and places it back on the desk. “You’re supposed to say something you haven’t done. Not what you just did an hour ago.”
I fight a smirk.
“Can I try again, then?”
She nods.
“Never have I ever forgiven my exceptionally handsome boss for acting like an asshole and embarrassing me at the Aron Falls Building Department.”
She tries so damn hard not to grin that she’s biting her lower lip. When she can’t fight it any longer, she rolls her eyes, smiles, and takes a long swig of her smoothie. Then she pulls it away from her mouth and fixes her eyes on me.
“Don’t do it again.”
“Scout’s honor.”
Then things were fine. I thought so, at least. But an hour later, after I came back from seeing how Ellie’s treatment went that day, things were different again. She didn’t seem mad, but she was definitely distant, and I couldn’t get her to make eye contact with me to save my life.
That’s where we left things that day, and I’ve been out of town since. So, even though I got back after the workday ended, I still popped into the office to make sure she was gone. She is. Everyone is.
Deflated, I walk to my office, grab a water bottle from my mini-fridge, and plop down on the small couch in the sitting area. I crack the lid on the water, tip the bottle back, and drain half before I recap it.
That’s when I notice something is off. I scan the office area three times before it strikes me: someone screwed up my filing system.
I rise and walk to the empty, stark white table that held months’ worth of files when I left two days ago.
There’s a piece of paper on the cleared surface. I pick it up.
If you get back in the office before me and see a clean room, don’t freak out.
It needed it. Badly. If it’s driving you crazy with worry, you can peek in the file cabinet to your right.
Everything is in there, organized by year, with each file sorted into sections by dividers.
I know that it’s not nearly as neat as your “throw it all in one file and hope for the best if it’s ever needed again” system, but I think you’ll get used to it.
Oh, and I scanned each file as well to have a backup copy.
If you decide to fire me for this egregious indiscretion, please notify me before I bother walking to work on Monday.
Sincerely,
Your most capable Administrative Assistant
I stare at the table for a while, picturing her writing the letter, then realize I’m smiling.
I’m back in the car and pulling into my garage at home before I realize I never even bothered to check the file cabinet. My mind was elsewhere. On her: My beautiful distraction.