Chapter Eight
Eight
Sophie
Sophie rested her forehead against the door of her office and squeezed her eyes shut.
Why did he do that?
She turned, glaring across the crowded office at the offending object sitting on her desk.
The coffee sweated a visible ring on the wooden surface of her desk, the water creeping toward the framed photos of her family and friends.
Maybe buying her coffee was meant as a friendly gesture. Maybe James was waiting for her to pay him back but hadn’t said anything.
Grabbing her phone from her desk, she fired off a text to him, asking how much she owed him for the coffee. Clicking her phone off, she forced herself to sit. She had work to do, after all.
Losing herself in emails, she moved on autopilot, bouncing from one to the next, and categorizing the most important cases into a spreadsheet. None of them were urgent, but she highlighted the first few and forwarded their emails to Marilyn.
Sophie clicked open the calendar to see when she could start slotting in appointments, and her phone lit up in her peripheral vision.
James: Don’t worry about it. It’s on me
She groaned and set her phone down again, resting her head in her hands.
He had to mean that platonically. But judging by the way he looked at her on the street before, she didn’t think it was, and that thought scared her more than anything.
Her phone buzzed again with another text from him.
I can get away for lunch. Is your break also at 1? Can I come over?
She stared at the screen.
What was wrong with him? How could he move on like that? When he didn’t say anything more, she tapped in a response.
I don’t think that’s a good idea
The three bubbles indicating he was typing popped up and lingered.
She set her phone down. A watched pot never boiled, after all. Still, her foot tapped until her phone pulsed with another message from him.
Why? It’s not like we’re going to do anything. If people see us, they see us
She raised her brow. Does he really not care what people will think? Should I not care what people will think?
But no … she had to. She didn’t have the luxury he did of letting things blow over and starting anew down the line.
Maybe if he came over and people saw, they would assume that she and James were friends, eating lunch together.
But if Marilyn saw, there’d be so many more questions.
Did they have a prior history? Why was one of her most prominent clients eating lunch with her assistant?
It’s not going to be like Brian. James isn’t going to spite you if you turn him down.
Sophie’s forehead wrinkled as her mind volleyed back and forth like a ping-pong ball, and she swallowed down her worries. It was fine; it was worth the risk.
Throwing everything to the wind, she typed in her response.
Fine
Great. What do you want?
Anything is good with me. Whatever you’re craving
She clicked off her phone and dove back into work, opening up the virtual calendar on her computer. All too soon, her alarm blasted for her lunch break, and a knock sounded at her door.
She stood from her chair to reach for a stack of files across her desk, knocking over the tiny succulent. “Come in.”
“Hey, I—you are on lunch right now, right?” James carried a large brown takeout bag emitting a heavenly scent. His gaze lingered on the files before settling on her face.
She nodded and sat down in her chair again, taking them with her.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was already one. Make yourself comfortable. What did you bring?” She smoothed her hair and set the files on the floor with a thump, along with some papers to clear some room for him.
He set the bag down and rummaged through it. “I was craving a burger, and I didn’t know what you’d like, so … we have options. What do you want?”
She blinked and craned her neck to try to look in the bag.
Had he ordered every kind of sandwich on the menu?!
See? He’s being thoughtful. Not like Brian at all.
Pointing to a random burger, she accepted it. Nodding her thanks, she unwrapped the food, took a big bite, and stifled a moan.
“Is it that good?” The tips of his lips quirked. “This burger place is great, but damn.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s good,” she said. “But it’s also the first solid food I’ve had all day, so it’s extra good.”
A frown replaced his smile, slotting across his brows. “You haven’t eaten all day?”
She shrugged and took another bite of her burger, talking around the food. “I usually skip breakfast and eat a little something later in the morning. But today threw me off. Thanks to someone, I slept through my alarm.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. If it helps, you seemed very put together for someone who slept through their alarm.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks? But what, you’re telling me you wake up to your alarm every morning?”
He shrugged, biting his burger. “No. But I work with Philip. He takes advantage of living so close and having a fob to my floor. So, he’ll come over and literally sit on me, screaming until I wake up.”
She barked out a laugh and choked on her food. Sputtering, she grabbed her water bottle. “Well, that’s one way to wake up.”
“I really should take that key away,” James murmured.
“Don’t bother.” She waved her burger. “I’ll just get security to give him another.”
“And where do you get that clearance?” James grinned. “Unless this is your way of saying you want to be my girlfriend and move in.”
Some water went down the wrong pipe and she pounded her chest. “Who said anything about that? I was going to lie and say I was your cousin or something.”
“Please don’t.”
She snickered. “Alright, alright. Anyway, tell me more about you. There’s only so much you can learn from Wikipedia.”
“Dinner wasn’t enough for you?”
“Tell me more.”
He pulled a water bottle from the bag and took a sip. “Okay. But for every answer I give you, you have to give me one back.”
She stuck her hand out. “Deal. I hope I’m not signing away too much, Mr. Tian.”
He grinned devilishly, and a shiver ran through her body. He took her hand and shook it, his fingers branding their touch into her skin. “Never, Ms. Huang.”
Sophie’s daily routine consisted of her working while she ate, her keyboard cover falling victim to spilled food more than once.
But that day, she boasted no desire to pick up a pen as she learned more about James.
“Give me three things you haven’t told me before,” she said.
“Three things I haven’t told you?” He blew out a breath. “I’m allergic to cats. I took piano lessons until I was seventeen, and I know ten—No, eleven—languages.”
“Eleven?!” she squawked.
“Yes. Most of those were taught to me when I was a kid, and then I picked up the rest later,” he admitted.
“When I was seven, my dad became business associates with Philip’s dad, and my brother and I spent summers in Spain with Philip’s family.
That’s where we perfected our Spanish, but everything else was a combination of trips and tutors. ”
“E-Eleven,” Sophie stammered. “That’s insane.”
“If it helps, my brother knows twelve.”
“In what world would that help?” She waved her crumpled burger wrapper. “Sorry to disappoint you, Duolingo. But the best I can offer you is my knowledge in English, Mandarin, and a little Spanish.”
He snorted. “I um … I also used learning languages as a distraction.”
“For?”
“Mainly my family being assholes, but also because of uh …” he looked at the ceiling, then back down, “Arranged dates.”
The search results she’d rustled up came screeching back, and a visceral gnawing started up in Sophie’s stomach. “I see … I’m assuming nothing came of those arrangements.”
“No,” he admitted. “And once I turned eighteen, my dad realized I wouldn’t listen to him about that anymore.”
She hummed. “I see.”
“What about you?” He drained his water and lifted an eyebrow. “You owe me answers.”
She tapped her foot under the desk. Her gaze slipped to the clock on her computer. It was nearly twenty minutes past, but when she opened her mouth, her answers to his questions slid out.
She was allergic to bananas, she had taken violin lessons until her freshman year of college, and her favorite flower was a violet.
He cleared his throat. “Any romantic history?”
She frowned. “That’s a little forward, isn’t it?”
“I gave you mine.”
“Fine.” She pressed her lips tight. “There were two guys. The first one, we started talking at a party freshman year of college and … things escalated. I dated him for a brief time and I shouldn’t have.”
“I see.” Something flared in James’s eyes.
“It is what it is.” She cleared her throat and shook her head. “It was a long time ago.”
Never mind that the moment she spilled her guts to Chloe ten years ago was still crystal clear in Sophie’s mind.
“Ugh, you know that guy I’ve been seeing?” She had flopped on Chloe’s bed a few weeks after the start of the semester.
“Brian Ngyuen?” Chloe had tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she finished applying a second coat of nail polish.
“Yup.” Sophie confirmed. “I never told you but… he’s my TA.”
Chloe gasped, flapping her hands to dry her nail polish faster. “Girl!”
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Sophie mimed pinching a mouth shut with her fingers. “This is why I didn’t tell you. Anyway, the point is it’s over between us.”
Chloe’s eyes flared and she twisted. “He broke it off?”
“I did. I mean, it’s just not a good idea to keep this up, you know? I don’t need him swaying my grades, and then that getting out.”
“Okay, but what if it doesn’t?” she reasoned.
“Yeah, but it’s always a possibility.” Sophie huffed a breath and shoved her hand through her hair. “Anyway, you know how that dick reacted? He got upset about it.”
Chloe gasped. “Is he going to go to someone higher up with proof?”
“I don’t think so. He knows he’s going to get in as much trouble as me if he does, and he definitely cares about covering his ass.” Sophie had shrugged.