Chapter Eleven
A little workplace stalking never hurt anyone.
Ruby
After putting on my emergency sweater and getting help from Clarise to fix my hair – help which she giggled through, convinced something untoward happened in my office with Will – I return to my desk to find an email from the man himself.
Ah.
It turns out he came to visit me for a work reason – not just to annoy. Will actually doing his job? Color me shocked.
I send off the information he needs – some report from the marketing department – along with a reminder not to come to my office unless he absolutely needs to , which does not include the times when an email would more than suffice.
Idiot.
Checking tomorrow’s Valentine Office Torture list – sorry, Valentine Office Celebration list – I groan. Door decorating.
Perfect.
My specialty.
Not.
I sigh and reach for my phone. Time to call in the experts.
“Ruby! I was just thinking about you!”
“I need your help,” I answer. “Can you come get me?”
? ? ?
Twenty minutes later, Will is stalking me down the hallway, whining about how I didn’t give him “advanced warning” that I’d be getting a different ride home today. On the one hand, I see his point. I’d be annoyed too if someone randomly changed my routine without saying anything.
On the other hand…
“You’re being annoying,” I inform him, jabbing at the elevator call button.
“You’re darn right I am!” he proclaims, annoyingly . “You’re abandoning me, and you won’t even tell me why!”
“Could you be more dramatic?” I ask as the elevator dings its arrival. I step inside, grabbing my dear friend, the safety rail. Will follows, scooting to his corner in the back.
“I just want to know who could possibly be a better ride home than me?”
“Are you pouting?” I ask, incredulous.
“I would never pout,” he answers, totally pouty.
“You are! You’re pouting!” Ew. Ew, ew, ew. “Get it away from me!” I sweep my cane out, whacking him back with it. “Keep your distance. I don’t want your dramatic boy pouty germs.”
“What about my hot man kissy germs? Are those okay?”
Gag.
“Keep all of your germs over there, away from me,” I order.
He huffs.
“You’re harassing me again, you know,” I inform him.
He doesn’t respond. Probably having a nice think in the corner about all his bad deeds.
I snort. Yeah, right.
“Can you at least assure me that you’ll be safe?” he asks into the silence.
If his voice had been anything but sincerely worried, I wouldn’t have answered. As it is, though…
“I’ll be safe,” I reply, begrudgingly gentle. “I’ll be with Elodie.”
The tension in our little death box leaks out, leaving only relief in the air.
“Thank you,” he says softly. Then, hopeful, “Will Sol be with her?”
My eyes roll.
“No, he wasn’t invited.”
Will gasps. “Wasn’t invited? Why wouldn’t you invite him?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe because I’m not in love with him like you are?”
“Ahh,” Will says. “Right. No room for Sol love when you’re all filled up with your love for me instead.”
My eye twitches.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not in love with you. ”
He hums. “You say that, yes, but I know the truth within. You’ll come to accept it someday. Soon, hopefully, but I’m willing to wait as long as you need.”
I sigh.
Ding .
“On that delusional note, Elodie is waiting for me. Are you going to be home tonight, or are you sleeping at your house?” For possibly the first time ever, I think but do not say.
I can hear the grin in his voice when he answers that he’ll be home when I get there.
Great. Wonderful. Joy of all joys.
Barf.
“Ruby!” Elodie’s voice squeals from across the lobby when I step out of the elevator, Will hot on my trail despite the work that I know he has to do upstairs.
Before I can sass him to go back to the job that he is being paid well to actually do, I’m bowled over by my svelte, kind of crazy in the goodest of ways best friend.
“Elodie,” I grunt as Will catches me – and by extension, Elodie – and keeps us upright until we can manage the harrowing feat on our own. I’m embarrassed to acknowledge that it takes us more than a few minutes to get to standing-on-our-own levels of calm, mostly because Elodie is a barely contained tornado, and I am Dorothy’s house blowing in her wake.
“El, we have to go,” I remind her, and she finally lets me go.
“I’m just so excited!” she exclaims. “We haven’t hung out in ages!”
We hung out two weeks ago, but who’s keeping track?
“Where are you girls going?” Will asks.
“Top secret,” I say.
“The craft store!” Elodie proclaims over me.
I groan.
“Are you getting stuff for the door decorating contest?” Will asks, voice high with excitement. “Can I come with? I need to do mine tomorrow too, and I spent so much time tracking down this suit over the weekend, I didn’t get a chance to grab supplies.”
“It’s a rather dapper looking suit,” Elodie tells him. “Very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he replies, smug. “I don’t suppose such a handsome fella could tag along to the store?”
I just bet he’s giving her puppy eyes right now, the stupid idiot.
“I’m giving her puppy eyes right now,” he tells me. “Nonverbal communication. It’s important to make sure everyone has access to the same information when in a social setting.” The last bit I assume is directed at Elodie.
My eyes roll.
“You’re not coming to the store with us,” I tell him. “It’s girls only. Go finish your work. You know, that stuff you’re supposed to do at your job .”
“But-”
“No,” I interrupt. “You’re not invited.”
“Okay,” says the puppy, beaten down. “I’ll just… go back up… and work…”
I nod. “You do that. Goodbye.”
“Bye, Will! Sneeze ya later!” Elodie chirps, linking her arm through mine and dragging me toward the frigid outdoors.
“Tell Sol I love him!” he calls after us.
“Your husband is obsessed with my brother,” Elodie giggles, guiding me through the snow outside to where she’s parked.
“He’s not my husband,” I remind her.
Her car beeps as we get closer, then she’s opening my door for me and pushing me in.
“Not yet!”
I stick my tongue out at her as the door shuts.
“Not ever,” I mutter. “ Never ever.”