Chapter 32
Luke
With Oliver busy between group and then his weekly smoothie excursion with Talia, I decided to hang late at the office. The team had voted for pizza, which was as good an excuse as any to stick around.
We were set up in the break room. Shawn folded an entire slice in half and shoved it into his mouth. “This,” he declared around a mouthful. “Is why I love late nights. Nothing cures a Tuesday like cheese grease and pepperoni.”
“I still don’t understand how you can eat like that and somehow maintain whatever that is,” Brent muttered, waving a hand to indicate Shawn’s body.
Shawn’s eyes lit with a predatory gleam that even a grainy, early-2000s flip-phone camera would’ve picked up. “If you’re going to compliment my physique, at least commit. Half-ass praise is for Yelp reviews, not for the man you’ve been undressing with your eyes for the better part of a year.”
“I wasn’t complimenting you. I was questioning the biological impossibility of you consuming pure cholesterol and saturated fats on the regular and not blowing up like a blimp.”
“It’s okay to admit it you know,” Shawn said, ignoring Brent’s protest. “Everyone appreciates a quality view now and then. I work hard for this body you pretend not to notice. Admiration is natural. Healthy, even.”
Brent set his slice down, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Let’s get something straight. I admire museum exhibits. I watch you the way people watch a car pileup on the freeway, with morbid curiosity but zero enjoyment.”
“If that’s the story you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, I support your delulu era. We all have coping mechanisms.”
“Speaking of delulu,” I cut in. “Did you guys hear about the woman in Florida who claims she’s married to a ghost pirate?”
All heads turned toward me. “I’m sorry, what?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “She says she’s in a long-distance relationship with the spirit of an eighteenth-century pirate.
They ‘met’ on a séance Zoom call during lockdown, fell in love, and held a symbolic ceremony on a charter boat, vows, rings, and a medium officiating.
But the kicker? She tried to enroll him under her employment benefits.
Submitted the paperwork to HR and everything.
They had to issue a formal denial because, shockingly, ghost spouses don’t qualify as legal dependents. ”
“This is a legit story? Not like some fake news nonsense?” Sarah said.
“Two verified outlets ran it,” I confirmed. “Apparently she went viral complaining about workplace discrimination against ‘spiritual unions’ and that she planned to sue.”
“That’s wild,” Dean said.
Brent snorted. “Honestly, sounds on-brand for Florida. Go figure someone down there tried to file benefits for Captain Casper. That’s probably not even cracking their Top Ten Weird News of the Month list.”
“You’ve got to admire the commitment, though,” Shawn said. “Imagine sitting across from HR, full eye contact, and declaring, ‘Yes, Cheryl, my spectral sea-daddy needs comprehensive medical coverage. He deserves a robust afterlife plan just like the rest of us.”
We were all still chuckling as Paul stepped inside, balancing a plate stacked with two slices of pizza.
“Since you’re all conveniently assembled.
I’ve got a quick update from the outreach committee.
They finally landed the pro bono legal partnership we’ve been pushing for over the last three months.
The attorney is already on-site tonight, sitting in on one of the support groups. ”
“That’s great,” Sarah said. “Who’d they get?”
Paul tapped his tablet, scrolling. “Firm’s Garner therefore, I’m driving.
Cosmic law. The universe has spoken through my perfectly moisturized hands.
” He leaned in closer to Brent. “But don’t stress that stoic little heart of yours.
I’ll let you ride shotgun, since we both know you get separation anxiety if I’m out of arm’s reach.
And I’ll even let you front-seat dominate the ride.
We both know how much you love bossing me around. ”
Brent’s jaw tightened so fast you could hear his teeth grind. “That’s not . . . I just don’t trust your driving.”
“Mm-hm,” Shawn hummed, patting his cheek.
The entire walk to the lot, Brent kept up the grumbling—I caught something about reckless drivers, liability, and maturity—but when we got to the SUV he walked straight to the passenger side, opened the door, and slid in without a word.
Shawn didn’t gloat, but the satisfied curve at the corner of his mouth said plenty as he rounded the hood.
I got into the back, knee bouncing, my phone still devoid of a response from Oliver. Each second without those three little dots gnawed at me.
Shawn started the engine. “Alright, team. Buckle up. We’re going in with brains, brawn, and breathtaking beauty. And before anyone asks, yes, I’m all three.” His voice turned full work-mode as his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “We’ll get your man, Luke.”