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‘Good.’ Galen said, trying to stop his eyes from crossing with boredom.
‘Any updates on Roula?’
‘Why would I know?’ He knew he was a little defensive. ‘I haven’t even turned on the news this morning.’
Thankfully Dion arrived. He had no questions of personal nature, and didn’t even blink at his slashed face as they went through his schedule for the remainder of the week.
‘Meeting with Hector?’ he said.
Galen frowned. ‘Who arranged that?’
Dion pulled up the information. ‘Dora.’
Galen rolled his eyes—and then recalled what he’d been in the middle of before he’d let the details about Costa slip. ‘Flowers,’ he said. ‘I meant to send Dora flowers—not today, but over the weekend.’
‘Sure. Saying what?’
‘Best wishes for...’ He shrugged. ‘Whatever her dog’s name is—find that out. If it dies send sympathy ones.’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m really behind,’ Galen admitted. ‘It’s been a disaster here of late.’
‘Well, I’ll let you get on.’ Dion stood.
Ah, the efficiency of Dion. Perhaps not quite the absolute control that Kristina kept, and in all honesty Dion was a little bit...well,pouty, as he’d expected to be employed for the full six weeks that Kristina was away, but order was certainly being restored. And the programmers were all safe from Roula’s endless pops of pollen.
Dion just placed down his food and coffee orders and completely understood that he was grateful for them. That when he was lost in work he didn’t even notice they were there until his hand reached for an empty cup, or he found his drink was cold.
His cup was always full when required. Perfect.
Except, without Roula’s little hovering, no matter how full and warm his cup, he felt empty.
And it was back to long silences at meetings, which should be running so much more smoothly now.
At the meeting with Hector he took notes on all the research and feedback that Hector relayed, and all his hopes for the next game.
‘We really would like to make a formal announcement at the ball,’ Hector persisted. ‘There’ll be a lot of press and industry representatives there.’
Silence. It wasn’t as if Galen didn’t know that already.
‘So are we?’
‘What?’ Galen asked. ‘Arewewhat?’
‘Are you close?’
Dion was a consummate professional—so much so that Galen had actually forgotten that he was even in the meeting room—and there was silence...lovely silence. No little prompt from Roula. No feeling his ankle was about to be kicked under the table if he didn’t give a timely response.
Yet, despite her absence, he could hear her voice.
‘Just get it out of the way,’ Roula had said, and had told him about her lists, and how good it felt to add a tick.
The gamewasactually ready—well, for the most part. But a million things had pinged in to distract him, and he really, seriously needed to focus on the work that was vital to him. And he didn’t want to deal with the social side.
Yet, look at what Roula was dealing with right now...
Why did all roads lead there?
