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Carol smiles at us both. “Well, definitely give me a shout if you need anything!”
I half wave as she ducks out and the door clicks shut behind her.
“She’s so nice,” Mark says distantly. “Really helpful.”
Yeah.
Shame she can’t help me much here. I give him a quick smile and turn back to my laptop, tightening up my sentences and adding footnotes almost as long as the main presentation at the end.
The evening crawls by as I work and Mark hangs around like a baby monkey, clingy as ever and making flat jokes, throwing out suggestions I don’t need every hour.
I try not to let my inner bitch out while I politely shoot down his help.
He’s not jealous, is he?
Sometimes, it almost feels like he’s poking, asking without really askingwhyFoster gave me this opportunity like it’s a golden cow and not a Trojan horse meant to drive me bonkers.
When the day winds down and I can’t keep my eyes on the screen for another minute, I wait while Mark packs up his stuff. He hasn’t stayed late yet in the time I’ve been here.
Foster, on the other hand...
Foster must not stumble out of this tower until well past eight o’clock at night. He’s still online in the company chat at least that late, but not open to direct messages.
I check his calendar, which Hannah sent me when I asked when he’d be free. I see his last meetings for the day are all virtual, which means he’ll be in his office.
Nowhere to escape annoying influencers with a burning need to pick his brain.
So I push back from my chair and power down my laptop.
Mark looks up with a bright smile I can’t quite read.
Man, does he ever run out of energy?
He’s twenty-six, like he told me the other day, but he could be nineteen.
“Are you heading out, Dess?” he asks, joining me at the door before I lose myself in the bustle of other tired people heading home. “Want to get a drink?”
Oh, God.
My heart flies up my throat.
...is he hitting on me now?
He doesn’t look like he’s flirting, exactly, but shy, soft boys like him never do. He’s not the kind to wink or make some obscene comment.
“Not yet, I have a few more notes to read through,” I say. “Thanks, though.”
“You’re not leaving?”
I grit my teeth.
It’s none of his business, actually.
“Just heading to the ladies’ room,” I lie, for no particular reason.
He doesn’t need to know how desperate I am to see Foster.
“Oh, well, I can wait for you—”
