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“Morning, Sophie,” from my right, to which I responded, “Morning, Dallas.”
“Morning, Soph,” from the cubicle in the corner.
“Morning, Betsy,” I murmured, shooting her a big smile.
“Good morning, Sophie,” Izabel said, smiling with her head tilted, like she was surprised by my morning perk.
That’s right, Izzy—I’m a ray of damn sunshine.
“Good morning, Iz,” I replied. “How was your weekend?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Stupendous,” I said, not slowing my stride or lowering my grin.
“Good morning, Sophie,” Stuart said.
“Good morning,” I said loudly, still smiling, then added in a voice so low only he could hear, “you piece of shit.”
“Good morning, Sophie,” I heard from the corner office.
“Good morning, Amy,” I replied, feeling triumphant as I entered the HR area.
I’d made it to my department and could stop pretending to be a damn delight.
I could see that Edie was already in her office and on the phone, so I gave her a hand raise, to which she responded with a subsequent chin nod.
And a big-ass smile of her own.
Yes, yes, yes.
I logged in and got right to work, because I knew I had another meeting-filled day ahead of me. I got lost in the work until about thirty minutes later, when Edie came over and stood beside my desk with her arms crossed.
“So how was the wedding?” she asked, grinning.
I reallywaslucky to have a boss who genuinely had my best interests at heart. Everyone else in our department was at a seminar, so I was able to say without worrying about being overheard, “It was a blast. We didn’t—”
I was interrupted by my phone. I was getting a FaceTime call.
We’d never followed up after I mentioned it while we ran, but Max was FaceTiming me.
It showed up as Maxxie in my contacts, which Edie was definitely staring at.
“Do you need to get that?” she asked.
“Oh, um,” I stammered, not sure what to do because we hadn’t finalized details. “No, I can call him—”
“Just take it while everyone’s gone,” she said, looking like she wanted to laugh. “We can talk later.”
“Okay, but it’ll be quick.” I hit the green button, and Max appeared on-screen.
In a backward baseball hat, which I usually found to be a hot-but-douchey fashion choice. It looked good, but the men who wore it that way tended to be arrogant and incredibly fond of their own opinions.
On him, though, it just looked hot.
“Hello?” I said, then couldn’t remember if you said hello when you answered a FaceTime call or not.
“Soph,” he said, kind of loudly, his eyes twinkling as he looked at me. “Did I leave my wallet at your apartment?”
