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“D-d-did you need something?” I stammer. Lauren and Sophie may have taken me under their wing months ago, but when we’re at the office, Theodore Sutton still triggers every instinct I have to run away. That stern face trips every alarm bell in my brain when Sophie isn’t around to run interference.
Mr. Sutton waits until Derek is out the door before speaking. “Did Sophie tell you it’s Emma’s birthday this Thursday?”
I nod. Her gift is tucked away in my closet, picked out with the help of my younger sisters.
“She’s having all her friends over at my house on Friday night for a party. Sophie asked me to extend an invitation to you to join us grownups guarding the liquor cabinet on the other end of the house.” He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “And by guarding it, I unfortunately don’t mean drinking it. Sophie says we’re not allowed more than one drink each.”
He chuckles at his own joke, but I stay silent, unsure if I’m supposed to join in or not.
“Uh…Friday?” I clear my throat and try again. “Yeah, sure, I can be there.” There’s an awkward pause when neither of us speaks. I pinch the hem of my shirt between my fingers, running the edge beneath my fingernail to distract me from the discomfort of this conversation.
Mr. Sutton clears his throat again. “Right. Well. That’s it. Sophie will text you the details later. See you Friday, if not before.”
I pick at my nails while he walks away. The anxious cloud building in my head holds my body in place, eyes glued to the carpet. I hate when this happens. There’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about. Mr. Sutton did nothing but invite me to a social gathering at his house. A gathering of people I know and love and usually am comfortable with. But something triggered my stupid brain into thinking that I was in trouble, and now an impending panic attack hovers, taunting me, reminding me I’ll never really feel at ease, even in the safest of spaces.
Closing my eyes, I count to twenty while my heart pounds, breathing in and out. I concentrate on the sensation of air entering my lungs, the sound of the air conditioner blowing over my head and the way my feet press into the floor. By the time I get to eighteen, the muscles in my arms have softened enough to drop to my sides. At twenty, my stomach rumbles audibly and hunger hits me.
I head back to my office to grab my bag—if I hurry, Raj and Manesh might still be waiting for me.
Two
Frankie
“Frankie, I need your help.” I haven’t even gotten to my office door when Lauren’s voice floats toward me.
“What do you need my help with?”
The tall, statuesque bombshell who adopted me last summer stands in my office, coat in hand. The bright red, long-sleeved jumpsuit she’s wearing only makes her look taller. The matching red pumps definitely help. So does her razor-sharp chin-length bob and perfectly even, winged eyeliner.
God, Lauren is so cool.
“I need to finish shopping for Emma’s birthday present. Are you going to lunch right now?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer, just loops her arm through mine and starts walking. I guess I’ll have lunch with Raj and Manesh tomorrow. Just as well, Manesh won’t stop making me help with their baby registry. I’m not a baby person—my little sister Megan was enough for me to swear off having children at nineteen. “So I was thinking—”
“Hold on.” I slip away to grab my coat and bag, swinging the strap up and over my head as I follow her down the hall to the elevator. “Sorry.” I jog to catch up to her, walking twice as fast to match Lauren’s long stride.
She waves me off. “Didn’t I tell you to stop apologizing for everything? Anyway”—she loops her arm through mine again—“I already got her a few things. I just need to get some little fun stuff to go with it. Sweet sixteen requires sixteen presents.”
“You’re getting her sixteen gifts?” The elevator doors open, and I follow Lauren inside, pushing the button to take us down to the lobby.
Lauren laughs, sliding an arm into her black puffy coat. “They’re small, Frankie. Don’t have a panic attack. Jesus, Soph would kill me. Her big gift is that fancy Dyson hair dryer/curler thing, so she’ll stop trying to steal mine. I just want some small things to round it out.”
I follow her through the lobby once the elevator doors open. Goose bumps prickle the back of my neck as I pass Julian, his blue-gray eyes watching me. He watches everyone because it’s his job, but sometimes I wonder if he watches me more than other people. And I don’t know if I want the answer to be yes or no.
And that’s the problem.
The reason I’ve been avoiding him.
When I first started here, Sophie went out of her way to introduce us, because she’s Sophie, and she’s just that nice. What started as friendly greetings each morning turned into casual conversation and a tentative acquaintanceship. I’m used to people looking at me and seeing someone helpless. All my life, people have gone out of their way to look out for me, but with Julian it didn’t frustrate or annoy me like usual. He makes me feel safe in a way I’ve never experienced before, man bun notwithstanding.
Until the company holiday party a month ago.
Last summer, in my first weeks at Mailbox, I’d made the mistake of going out to lunch with Derek once or twice, and then I’d made the bigger mistake of thinking his interest in me was genuine and not an act. When Mr. Sutton laid into the developer team for a prank they’d pulled on me in my first month, Derek had realized that looking good as my manager would get him farther than “bagging” the only female developer on our team.
Somehow, in Derek’s mind, looking out for me morphed into a possessiveness of my time and space. No matter who I’m working with, Derek hovers in the background. Always nearby, waiting to jump in and make his presence known.
At the holiday party, Derek had been taking advantage of the open bar, and I discovered that he’s a handsy drunk. He’d caught me in the hallway outside the hotel ballroom just as I was leaving the bathroom. Of course I’d made the rookie mistake of going alone.
Drunk Derek had done more than hover. He’d backed me into a corner, talking non-stop about how he’d saved me from the other guys on the team hazing me further. That I should be grateful, that I should put in a good word for him with Mr. Sutton or Sophie. He’d been mid-tirade, rambling about how he was spending all this time with me and deserved something in return, when Julian had hauled him away from me. Eyes flashing, he’d slammed Derek up against the wall and gotten in his face.
