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Zahra:Oh. I didn’t know this!
Me:That’s because you live inside of a warehouse. Go home.
Zahra:I will. I will. Maybe in an hour.
I shake my head and pocket my phone. While I’m pleased that some Creators are taking their jobs seriously like Zahra, it doesn’t make me happy to know she’s up this late on an empty stomach.
The walk to the Catacombs entrance isn’t far from my office. As I walk through the tunnel, I find myself slowing down near the Creators’ warehouse entrance.
You could go in and force Zahra to go home and come back tomorrow with a full stomach and a good night’s rest.
I walk up the steps and open the door without giving anything a second thought. The path to Zahra’s cubicle is one I’ve memorized, and I find myself stopping at the entrance to watch her work. It’s my kind of entertainment, with her working her bottom lip as she grabs a Post-it and folds it into a neat little square. She turns and attempts to throw it in a mason jar. Her shot is too short, and the paper falls to the ground.
“Nice shot.”
Zahra jumps in place. “You scared me!” She turns on her heel and looks me up and down. “What are you even doing here?”
I’m struck speechless.What am I doing here?
“I wanted to check in and see if anyone was still working.” That much is true.
“Why?” She raises a brow.
“I wanted someone’s opinion on something.”For fuck’s sake.Go home while you still stand a chance.
“Okay. Hit me.” She smiles as she leans against her desk.
What in the world could I ask her opinion on?
“Rowan, what is it?”
“I wasn’t sure if our oldest ride is worth keeping.”
Her entire face brightens. “Oh no! Don’t get rid of it. I love the—” Her grumbling stomach cuts her off, morphing the shade of her face from brown to bright red.
I scowl. “You skipped dinner.”
“Umm…how did you know that?” The color of her cheeks somehow intensifies.
Yeah, Rowan. How did you know?Fuck. I keep messing up tonight. Who knew keeping up two personalities would be this difficult?
“You’re still here working.”
“Right. I’m about to wrap up soon so I’ll just—” Her stomach grumbles even louder, and my blood turns into lava, pumping furiously at the pace of my heart.
I pull out my phone. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”
Her mouth gapes apart. “Umm…it’s good?”
I dial a local place I have saved after too many late nights working. I’m not sure what Zahra likes, so I order one of everything. It’s probably overkill, but I’d rather have her eat something she likes.
I hang up to find Zahra still gawking at me. “What?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t expect you to buy me dinner.”
“I’m hungry. You can have the leftovers,” I respond as if that solves everything.
“But I’m pretty sure you ordered the entire restaurant.”
