Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Although there was a brief debate about leaving the plant alone since it had a corner office full of natural sunlight, I knew I needed to take care of it. I retrieved my watering can and let it drink up. Like me, it doesn’t take much to make it happy.
Though lately, I haven’t felt like myself. I stood in the middle of Drew—Andrew’s office and let the memories wash over me. I didn’t know then, but I think I fell for him the night I saw him drunk. He was just so cute and at ease in his own skin. Charming and a little goofy. It took a few whiskeys to get him to loosen up. That changed when he was with me. It took catching him off guard. Shrugging even though no one can see me, I try to justify it to myself.
There wasn’t a smirk, but a smile that came from seeing me. He’d probably fib and tell people he doesn’t remember that night. But I do. It’s when I decided I’d judged him all wrong. I mean, sure, I totally nailed his personality, but I didn’t expect to see the change in him. My affection only bloomed after that.
Where did that leave me?
In his office with him gone, now nursing the plant he left behind. Another thing I seem to have in common with the ivy.
I decide this is the best place for it to live and grow. Maybe visiting and watering it in here, being present in this space without Drew, will do the same for me.
When I walk out, Mary glances up from her desk. She says nothing and doesn’t ask anything of me. She just lets me return to my desk in peace.
She’s a good person, and he’s lucky to have her. Even though her duties have lightened due to him having an assistant in Seattle, she keeps busy but not so stuck to her desk. I’ve seen more of her lately—in the break room or passing through reception at lunch—and sometimes, when I work late to organize the different stations around the office, she checks on me before she leaves.
She pops into reception around two, and asks, “Want to grab a coffee downstairs?”
Pointing at the headset on my head, I reply, “I’m not sure I can leave.”
Laurie comes in behind her and punches the elevator button. “Ready to go?” She’s looking at me. This is different and exciting to leave the office. “Send it to the service,” she adds. “We’ll only be gone fifteen minutes.”
Remembering my calculations from before, fifteen is usually forty-five, but who’s counting. I’ve been invited to join the cool kids for coffee. I grab my purse and send the calls to the answering service. “Ready.”
We score an elevator ride by ourselves. Only a few seconds tick by before I’m rethinking my decision to come along. Mary asks, “How are you doing, Juni?”
“I’m good. I’m fine.”
She laughs with a kind smile. “Andrew always says that.”
I hate that my own smile falls from the mere mention of him, but my heart currently feels a little battered. “It’s cliché.”
Laurie nods, not like she’s judging my word choice, but more sympathetic to my plight. What that plight is exactly, I’m not sure. In the softest voice, she says, “It’s not against company policy.”
And this was clearly an opportunity taken advantage of. Why did I choose to stand in the middle of them?
I eye the open doors button wondering how far I’d be willing to plummet to avoid this conversation. The elevator is on ten. That’s death level. I’m probably wanting more broken leg or mild concussion outcomes from the second or third floors. “You don’t have to whisper,” I say, not whispering at all. “It was a terribly kept secret. Everyone knew—”
“I didn’t,” replies Laurie. “I actually don’t think many people did know until that weasel Justin tried to get fifteen minutes of fame by leaking it to the press.”
Deciding it’s best if I don’t try to escape, I’m resolved to the fact that I’m currently the hot story for office gossip. I’ve been down this road before with my parents. It will pass in time when something else more exciting or tragic happens.
The doors open, and we stand in a line that weaves a fair distance through the lobby. That means more time to talk about me and Drew. Yay! Not . . .
Rocking back on my heels, I point out the art I’d never seen in the lobby before. I’m usually rushing to get to the car. I miss the car rides with him. We gave up dropping me off, and now I just ran like the wind and ducked in the back. Pent-up sexual tension soon fogged the windows, and steamy make-out sessions behind the privacy glass became a regular thing.