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Maxine’s head whipped up from her screen, her eyes so bloodshot they made my own eyes water. “I will love you forever if you bring me back some chocolate.”
“I wouldn’t hate a Three Musketeers,” Jin added, rotating his right wrist around in the air then stretching his fingers.
Maxine and I both curled our lips in disgust at his candy choice.
“What are you, ninety?” Maxine asked, voicing the question for both of us. “Who eats a Three Musketeers bar when Snickers exists?”
Jin shot Maxine a murderous glare, reaching for one of his many stress balls. “First of all, I like them. That nougaty center just hits the spot. Second of all, I’m watching my figure. Third of all, mind your business.”
I made a hasty exit before there was bloodshed. I didn’t have time to be interviewed by the police. The walk to the vending machine helped calm me down and gave me a much-needed energy boost. I returned to our corner with an armful of snacks and a better attitude.
Maxine and Jin descended on the pile of snacks like a pair of vultures. I quickly withdrew my hand out of genuine fear of losing a few fingers. Stress-eating was another thing we all had in common — but I was prepared to fight Maxine for the peanut M&Ms. She must have sensed my feral energy, because her hand quickly darted away from the yellow bag.
I checked my phone — I was a deeply flawed human; sue me — and instantly regretted it. Instead of a reply from Holden, I had a series of texts from Sissy.
Sissy: I still haven’t gotten a picture of your dress for the gala. I’d really appreciate it if you could send me a picture so I can approve it.
Sissy: I don’t think you understand how much stress I am under right now. It’s very selfish of you to ignore my very reasonable request to see your gown. Based on your outfit choices the other week, you should be thanking me for being willing to help you despite how overwhelmed I am. It’s imperative that you send me a picture today, Sutton. If your dress isn’t going to work, you’ll need time to get an acceptable dress.
Sissy: Also, I hope you know that it would be completely unacceptable for you to hire a date. An escort is not a good look. I’d be happy to see if there’s anyone in my contact book who would be willing to go as your date. I’m sure I could find someone who wouldn’t mind spending a few hours with you considering what a great networking opportunity it would be.
I promptly dropped my phone into the empty trash can next to my desk and poured half the bag of M&Ms into my mouth, followed by a handful of antacids. A gross but necessary combination.
I looked up to find both teammates staring at me questioningly. “Not aword,” I warned around a mouthful of candy.
I spent the next hour or so trying to ignore my phone and the unpleasant noises coming from my stomach that were either the result of hunger or the constant stream of acid and sugar that comprised my diet lately while trying to concentrate on work. I may also have perused some pictures of hairstyle ideas for the gala.
The phone on my desk rang, startling me. I pressed one hand to my chest and used the other to stab at all the buttons until I finally hit the right one. These phones were so complicated. “Hello?”
“Sutton, this is Harold down at reception. You have a delivery. Can you come down and grab it? If not, I can have Carl bring it up, but it might be awhile. I don’t want to leave the desk unattended.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll be down in a minute.” I placed the phone back on the receiver, trying to think who would be sending me something at work. Oh God, if this was a dress from Sissy I was going to have an actual stroke.
I mumbled something about a delivery and downstairs, ignoring both their surprised looks. We never got deliveries, unless Maxine happened to be dating someone on her birthday or Valentine’s Day.
I pushed through the door to the small reception area on the first floor. “Hi, Harold.”
“Hey, Sutton!” He reached behind his desk and grabbed a cardboard box filled with bags and foil containers. “I’m going to be honest — I thought about not calling you and saving this one for myself.”
I felt my brows scrunch in confusion as I reached across his desk to take the box. Then the smells hit me, and my mouth started to water.
“Huh. I didn’t order any...” I paused, glancing at the various containers filling the box. “Whatever this is.”
“The delivery guy said it was from someone named Holden,” Harold stated, giving me a knowing smile. “You are one lucky woman.”
“Yep, that’s me, lucky lucky me. All the luck,” I replied, still trying to comprehend that Holden had lunch delivered for me. Had I stepped through some time-space continuum when I’d gone back to Beacon Hill?
I backed away toward the elevator, using my elbow to hit the call button. Fortunately, the doors slid right open, saving my poor frazzled brain from any more conversation. Using the same elbow, I jabbed the button for the second floor.
“Have a good day!” I called out as the doors closed. I spent the short trip up alternating between staring blankly at the food and staring equally blankly at the metal doors. I could have sworn I felt every single pair of eyes on the floor watching me make the short walk from the elevator to our corner.
“Whoa, what is that?” Jin half-stood, peering over his monitor with his nose stuck up in the air like a bloodhound.
I tried to look very busy unloading the various items and reading the labels written in black marker on each container.
“Oh, this?” I stalled, suddenly and inexplicably not wanting to share that Holden was the one who had ordered lunch for us. “It’s lunch from Belagrio’s.”
I said the words so calmly, like it was no big deal that I was unpacking lunch from one of the most popular, most exclusive restaurants in Savannah.
