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I race out the door, shoving thoughts of Ben and his mysterious early-morning whereabouts aside.
Two buses and a near miss with a bike messenger later, I coast into GHW to find Fatima, of course, already there. She’s striding down the hallway with one of our junior reps, chasing behind with fingers flying over his tablet as she talks.
She sees me and her chic cake-stand heels come to a stop as her smile spreads wide. “Bill, see where you get with this and then catch me after Pilson’s meeting.”
Bill nods, turning back the way he came.
“Morning, Fatima. Still keeping New York hours?”
She gives me a thick-lashed wink as we fall into step on the way back to her office. “Easier this way.”
“Easier when you move to New York in two months. You’ll already be used to the new time zone.”
She hums, switching gears. “Saw your presentation. Good work.”
She’s already seen it. Of course she has. And, oh my God, good work! I’m going to burst. I want to jump for joy, throw up my hand and high-five myself. I want to call Ben and squeal in his ear, but I rein it in, settling for a professional nod instead.
“Thank you, Fatima. This one really clicked for me. It’s been a pleasure to work on.”
Read: Keep me on the team. Let me take lead, pulllleease!
Lips pursed, she nods.
“It’s clean. It’s tight. It’s got that magical something you bring to every campaign. It makes me feel.” We stop outside her office door, and she goes to her toes, craning her neck to make the most of her five-foot-one stature to see if anyone else is around. “This is exactly the kind of work I knew you’d deliver. I can’t really say more yet, but you’re making something I’m working on quite a bit easier.”
“Thank you?” I say, thrown off by that last cryptic bit.
Fatima spins on her heel with a flourish and then, looking back over her shoulder, adds, “I’ve got a client call in five, but if you’re free this evening, there’s something I’d like to run past you.”
* * *
Lara
I’m still processing what Fatima shared with me over vegetarian spring rolls in her office when I get home. She thinks my proposal is strong enough to argue that she wants to keep me on her team when she moves up. It’s a long shot, but being attached to New York’s team while I’m still in Chicago would be a dream.
No. I can’t get my hopes up.
It’s too soon for that kind of offer. It’s not going to happen. Not yet.
Ack. I close the door and set my bag by it, slipping out of my heels. There’s some noise coming from Ben’s room, and I wonder how much progress he made on his ceiling.
A part of me is hoping it’s not much and he’ll have to sleep with me again tonight.
I’d like to say it’s because I slept so well. But if I’m being honest, that isn’t the only reason.
There’s a part of me that wants to be close to him in a way we aren’t as friends.
A part that doesn’t care about how much it hurts when it’s over.
A part that just wants more, even though I know I shouldn’t. A part that wants to ignore that I’m leaving, that I have a plan, that a relationship isn’t a part of it… even if Ben actually wanted one. Which he doesn’t.
We’re friends. Which is fine. It’s better. I think.
I sigh, walking toward his bedroom ready to smile and act like I’m thrilled with whatever progress will keep him out of my bed tonight. Halfway there I hear another muted thump, different from those of last night, followed by some sort of wheezing that doesn’t sound right.
His door is half open, so I give it a quick knock and push it the rest of the way. There’s a sheet of plastic over his bed, smooth plaster above… and about two dozen boxes, bags, and one?—
That unholy sound comes again, and when I turn toward the source, Ben’s bathroom, a streak of black and white shoots through the room and between my legs.
