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“Yep.” I nodded, trying to resist the urge to squeeze my plastic cup so beer exploded into the air, just so something interesting would happen for once. “Makes sense. Logistically speaking.”
“Great.” She beamed at me, so my answer must have been at least somewhat intelligible. “Let’s circle back to this in the morning. I’ll loop you two in when the team have our group-think first thing.”
“Sounds good.” I reflexively took a step back, my body wanting to escape. “Sorry, have to use the restroom. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Want me to hold your cake, bud?” Lance had already finished his slice.
“It’s okay. I’ll just…” I trailed off into indistinct mumbling as I powerwalked out of the room still clutching my cup and paper plate.
The moment I was hidden from view of the break room’s windows, I stopped. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, but I couldn’t go back in there. I would just start shouting, ‘How about this for synergy?’ and flip the table.
Spotting a couple of spare cases of beer on a nearby desk, I found myself tipping back what remained in my cup as I walked over to snag a six-pack. Then I turned and beelined straight for the back staircase, which was mainly used by the maintenance and janitorial staff for the building.
There was a cinderblock already by the door when I reached the roof. I shoved it into place with my foot to keep the door propped open, then wandered over to two camping chairs that were already set up several feet back from the roof lip. I had no idea whose they were—this building housed several different companies—but they weren’t up here right now, so I was claiming one.
Sitting back with a sigh, I cracked open a fresh lukewarm beer and took a deep slug, then I lifted the paper plate directly up to my face and licked up a big scoop of frosting.
I almost groaned out loud. It didn’t even matter that it tasted like fake lemon. It was butter. And sugar. I wanted to smash my face into it.
Scraping half the slice into my mouth with my teeth, I chased it with another gulp of beer—which was a bad idea, because it tasted like shit—then leaned my head back and stared up at the dark sky.
Some of the tension eased from my shoulders. This was better. I wasn’t actually going to drink the whole six-pack, because then I wouldn’t be able to drive home and I’d have to—I shuddered—get a ride from a co-worker. But I could stay up here for ten minutes, drink this beer and eat my shitty cake, then go back downstairs a touch more relaxed and less likely to dropkick the rest of Sharon’s cake all over the break room.
The air was pleasantly cool—not enough to make me shiver and wish I had my suit jacket, which was still draped over the back of my desk chair. It felt like I could properly breathe for the first time in over eight hours. I ate the rest of the cake directly off the plate like an animal, then sipped my beer and closed my eyes.
Chapter Three
The Misunderstanding
I must’ve dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again, the beer can was no longer in my hand and my shirt felt cold and slightly damp against my skin.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and blearily looked around. The can was on the ground, spilled beer turning the concrete dark. The moon was definitely higher than it had been. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly nine p.m. Shit.
Scrambling up, I jogged for the door, promising to come back up in the morning and clear up my mess. When I reached HutSec’s floor, the door to the office was locked.
Fuck. This was what I got for breaking my dairy fast with shitty lemon cake. The universe was punishing me.
My keys were in my suit pocket. My backpack was still at my desk too. Scrubbing wearily at my face, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I reached Lance.
He picked up after a few rings, sounding surprised that I was calling him. “Hey, bud. Wondered where you got to. You left your suit jacket at your desk.”
“Yeah, I know. I, um, took a really long phone call in the stairwell.”
“Oh.” He sounded concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, my… sister is going through a messy break-up.” I didn’t even have a sister. Why had I said that?
Luckily, Lance knew very little about me, despite us having worked together for over a decade, so he just tutted and said, “Ah, that sucks.”
“Yeah. Um, so, the door to the office from the stairwell is locked.” I winced. “You wouldn’t happen to still be here, would you?”
He laughed. “No, bud. The party ended at, like, seven.”
I deflated. “Shit. My keys are at my desk.”
“I’m sure security will let you in to get ’em. Just go down to the front desk.”
“Okay.” I sighed, turning to face the stairs. “Thanks anyway.”
