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I remain standing in silence.
Her brows pull together before she wipes away whatever look is on her face. “All right. So why are you thinking of getting rid of our oldest ride?” She drops onto the floor where she has an entire array of Post-its, pieces of paper, markers, and more.
Right. The opinion I wanted.
I follow suit and lean against the back partition of the cubicle.
Zahra laughs to herself as I remove my suit jacket and throw it beside my legs.
“What’s so funny?”
She waves at my body like it solves my question. “You’re sitting on the floor.”
I look down at myself. “And?”
“It’s weird.” She crosses her legs.
I ignore her. “It’s an old ride. I’m not sure if it’s worth keeping.”
She sucks in a breath. “You have to be joking! Is it worth keeping?!”
I nod, knowing this kind of question could stir up an hour-long conversation. And it does just that. While we wait for the delivery, Zahra spends the time explaining the history behind my grandfather’s first ride, as if I wasn’t aware. She goes into great detail, touching upon all the reasons we shouldn’t dare change a single thing. I find myself smiling more than usual because her enthusiasm and passion is contagious.
I’m somewhat disappointed when the food arrives because it cuts her off.
“Did you really need to order the whole menu?”
I shrug. “Wasn’t sure what you liked.”
She looks at me with a pinched expression. “And why didn’t you ask me?” She grabs two carton boxes from the bag and presses them against her chest with a sigh.
I stay silent and pluck a box of fried rice from the bag. Zahra passes me a plastic-wrapped fork and we both dive in.
She lets out the tiniest moan as she takes a bite of her food. I feel the sound straight to my cock, and blood starts rushing to a place it doesn’t belong.
I take a deep breath. “Why were you here so late? Really?”
She points over her shoulder at the mason jar filled with Post-its. “I was working on a new idea.”
“And?”
“And I lost track of time.”
“Does this happen often?”
She shrugs. “I don’t have much else going on.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” The question sounds natural as if I care about other activities besides work. Maybe Ani is rubbing off on me with her personal questions.
Zahra smiles. “I like to read.”
“For fun?”
She ends up throwing her head back and laughing. My whole chest warms at the idea of making her laugh like that, and a little kernel of pride swells within me.
“Yes. Some people read for something other than work.” She speaks breathlessly. “What doyoulike to do when you’re not working?”
Text you.“I run.”
