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I’m caught up in the smell of him and the feel of him, unaware that the world around has faded to black.
“Are you going to tell me what you just said?” I ask, running my nose along his jaw, feeling his hands tighten in my hair.
“No.”
“I’ll just look it up later,” I tease him, pulling away so I can look into his eyes.
“I hope you do.”
22
ANNUAL POTLUCK
Immortale (feat. Vegas Jones) by Måneskin
“Don’t be mad,” Miles says, falling in step with me and handing over a cup of coffee while balancing his tablet in the other hand.
“That’s not how you should start a conversation if you don’t want me to be mad,” I explain to Miles as we make our way towards my office.
“I booked a cruise!” Miles squeals.
“Why would I be mad about that?” I ask, confused.
“I got it at a great price,” he gushes, “and Edmund and I have never been to the Caribbean. I think it was a good deal because it’s right at the end of hurricane season, but I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he laughs nervously.
“Again, why would I be mad?” I ask more sternly.
Miles interlaces his fingers nervously. “It leaves next week.” He scrunches up his face which makes me laugh.
“It’s fine, Miles. God, you make me sound like the Wicked Witch of the West.” I continue towards my office.
“Last year when I didn’t give at least two weeks’ notice before I flew back East to spend Thanksgiving with Edmunds family, you nearly had a conniption.” Miles follows me into my office where I place my bag on the table next to my desk.
“First of all, I did not have a conniption or whatever that means, and the only reason I was slightly,” I look at him pointedly, “upset, is because you left me to host the annual company potluck.”
Miles purses his lips and then gives me a toothy smile. Looking at my calendar, I ask, “When exactly are you leaving?”
Miles starts to back out of my office when he says through a nervous smile, “The eighteenth.”
I look back at the calendar and realize that is the day before this year’s potluck. When I look back up, Miles is standing outside of my door and Wyatt crashes into him.
“Sorry, sorry.” She apologizes, and stops Miles from hitting the doorframe.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” he tells Wyatt while backing away, leaving her staring after him in confusion.
“Lake?” Wyatt enters my office, a grave look on her face.
“What did I tell you about barging…” I pull the glasses from my face.
“I found something you’re going to want to see,” she interrupts.
“Pleasedon’t tell me something that’s going to put me in abadmood.” I pinch my forehead, looking at her expectantly. I had every intention of coming into work today ready to save the world, but alas, the universe just wants to strike me down.
“Well, that depends on your perspective.” Wyatt widens her eyes, and there is a hint of malice which piques my interest.
Motioning for her to join me on my side of the desk, I grumble, “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than hosting the company potluck by myself.”
Momentarily, Wyatt looks at me clearly confused, but then she sets her laptop in front of me, opening a file. “I requested a sample of invoices from Waterman’s and checked them against orders. Everything was fine, but then there was one where the date didn’t match, and I thought it must have been a flubbed number, so I started looking at the incoming payment.”
