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Just before I turned the corner, I noticed I’d left the marketing conference room light on. With a grumbling sigh, I whipped around to turn it off. Cursing at the world, I slammed open the door, reaching automatically for the switch, when I stopped, frozen in place.
The room wasn’t empty. Inside, Peter Thatcher, Cici’s coordinator, was reclining in one of the conference room chairs. Across his lap, looking more than a little shocked, was Peyton Sprawling.
I stared.
They stared.
And suddenly we were all talking at once.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve knocked,” I bit out.
“This isn't what it looks like.”
“We were just wrapping up.”
When we finally quieted, I shifted on my feet, wondering if this day could go any more wrong. Even now, my skin was flushed hot from a combination of my fury at myself and now the embarrassment of catching my employee draped around Grove Communication’s contact.
“I’ll go,” I said finally, ending the conversation for all of us. I raised an awkward hand in goodbye and slipped back out into the hall. Marching out through the front foyer, I’d almost made it to my car when Peyton caught up with me.
“Brady! Brady, wait!”
I didn’t want this. I wanted to go find a dark corner of the gym, where I could pretend that I hadn’t thrown away my future in one fell swoop. I had no advice or soothing words for this situation.
“Peyton, it’s fine. I need to go.”
“Brady, please, don’t leave. I can explain.”
“You don’t have to. It’s after hours; you're an adult.” I gestured back to the building. “Knock yourself out.”
“Um. Okay.” Peyton crossed her arms, her carefully lined eyes clouded with confusion. “You alright? You seem…different.”
“Everyone needs to stop asking me that.”
“Okay. I just… I was hoping I could tell you something.”
“Not a good time, Peyton.”
“There’s never a good time. But I just wanted to tell you that you were right.”
“What?” My voice rose as I threw my duffel across the front seat of my car. “What could you possibly need to tell me right now?”
Peyton cocked her head at me, the pretty, youthful face confused. “It’s about Peter—”
“Well, congrats.”
“No, hold on. I don’t know what’s going on with you. But I feel like you need to hear this. You told me that if it’s worth it, then you work at it. I really took that to heart.”
“I think I meant that about work.”
“Well, it applies to extracurricular Peter too.”
I swiveled my hips down into the front seat, staring up at Peyton through the door. “I’m glad it worked out for you.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve just got to go. Your date is probably missing you.”
Peyton nodded, her cerulean-blue bangs sweeping forward to hide her face, but I didn't miss the twang of surprise and irritation as I brushed her off. “Night, Brady.”
