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I’ll deal with it later.
Five minutes after Mary and most of the office have cleared out, there’s a soft knock on the door. Juni swings it open, and says, “Heard the big meeting got postponed?”
It’s hard to keep my eyes on hers when I want to run my gaze down her body and take her in. I manage, but it’s a struggle. That’s not something I’ve ever had trouble with prior, especially when it came to the office. “The clients moved it to Monday. They had to fly out of town.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It gives me more time to prepare.”
“Always looking on the bright side.” Why do I detect a note of sarcasm? I’m not a negative person . . . a little irritable when I’m at the office, but I have a lot on my plate. I let the comment slide. She says, “Rumor has it you rarely eat lunch.”
Lowering my gaze to the contract in front of me, I reply, “You heard correct, but how do people know that, much less talk about it?”
“Watercooler small talk and the manual.”
“Ah, the manual.” That’s right. This mysterious manual.
“Also, I’m taking advantage of the sign posted outside your door.”
Not following, I ask, “Which sign is that?”
“That you have an open-door policy. I don’t exactly have anything specific to discuss, but I think it’s good for you to spend time with the commoners like me.” Holding up a bag, she wiggles it in the air. “Anyway, I brought you lunch. Two birds with one stone.”
I set my pen down and look up. “I don’t consider anyone who works for this company a commoner, as you call it. Every person here is talented in their field. And you didn’t have to bring me lunch.”
“I know, but I did it anyway. Do you like tuna?”
“It’s fine in a sandwich.”
“Fine?” she hums, leaving the door wide open. “What an odd answer to a fish question. Most people are less neutral on the topic.”
And just like that, the old Juni is back. “Even though you didn’t ask, I hate it.” When she sits, she pulls two sandwiches from a deli bag that look a lot like tuna. “Don’t worry, it’s chicken salad. I wouldn’t stink up your office with fish.”
“Juni, I appreciate you thinking of me, but I just don’t have time today.”
“I know you’re busy.” She stands. “I can go. Taylor invited me to eat with him in the break room.” Speaking softer, she adds, “He just broke up with his girlfriend and could use a friend.”
“He needs to get his own. You’re mine.” No one moves a muscle—not her, not me. I don’t even think either of us is breathing. Fuck. Dragging my gaze up one millimeter at a time, I finally reach Juni’s eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
She whispers, “I know.”
The awkwardness still surrounds us. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Our words are stilted as discomfort takes hold of me. I grab the sandwich and say, “I love chicken salad.”
Her lips lift into a genuine smile. “Me too.”
Gesturing to the chair, I ask, “Will you have lunch with me?”
A gentle nod is followed by her sitting down again. Before she takes a bite, she notices the ball of paper on the floor just shy of the wastebasket. Reaching down, she picks it up. “You missed.”
“I seem to do that a lot lately.”
“I don’t know about that. I think you’re doing well.” Tantalizing pink fills the apples of her cheeks, making me want to reschedule the rest of my meetings and dedicate my time to discovering what exactly causes her to blush.
I tap my pen to a pad several times. “At least one person doesn’t think I’m failing.”
Her eyes leave mine in a flash, and she takes a staggered breath before slowly exhaling.
It’s not a big reaction, but it’s seen in the slight adjustments, her happiness disappearing in the undertow of thoughts she keeps locked inside. I ask, “Is everything all right?”
She looks up, and a long pause keeps our eyes connected. For a moment, I think I might be able to read her thoughts, or maybe it’s her heart that I’m tuned into. But then she says, “Yes,” breaking the spell. She holds the paper in front of her. “May I?”
“It’s nonsense. Just something frustrating I have to deal with.”
Unwrapping the paper, she then flattens it on top of her thigh. “So says you.” Her voice calming as she begins to read. I just took a bite when her gaze lifts to mine again, and she asks, “What is this?”
I swallow the food down, my stomach begging for more of the delicious sandwich. A little embarrassed, a lot feeling the need to justify, I set the sandwich down. “I’m just going to preface this by telling you that not only will this sound crazy but it’s utterly ridiculous.”
