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“What the hell?” Mila gritted as she continued to take in all the grocery-store purchased foods.

Edison chuckled and put his hands on Mila’s tense shoulders, massaging her fury away. He appreciated what she’d tried to do and he wanted her to know that he wasn’t upset. He’d have a great, home-cooked meal with amazing company in just a few, short hours. He kissed his assistant on her cheek as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Edison. You’re always cooking for us. You do deserve better because you’re the best boss there is.”

“And that’s all I wanted to hear… from you, Mimi,” he whispered back, using her nickname. He took her hand and raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate you all taking the time to… um… go to the store for me.”

“We’re not all chefs,” Jessica said as she stood with her mean-girls clique. “We did the best we could.”

Edison sighed. He wasn’t a chef either, but he could apply himself. This was not what he’d call an appreciation lunch. Next year he was going to insist that Mila didn’t make everyone do this. He was borderline embarrassed now. “I’m sure you did. Like I said, thank you all so much.”

Edison tucked his hands into his pockets when no one moved, meeting some of their eyes. This was crazy. He picked up a paper plate and went around the table trying to choose something appetizing. He didn’t particularly like store-prepared foods because he never knew how long the food had been packaged and if it had been cooked properly. Mila knew this about him, which is why she’d tried to arrange a potluck.

His assistant fell in step beside him while he stood in front of the fruit trays. He put several pieces of cantaloupe and strawberries on his plate before he moved down to the cheese and meats platter from BJs. There was no way he was eating that potato salad from the WaWa gas station or the sushi from Walmart. He made sure to dump a few Doritos on his plate next to his one turkey and cheese pinwheel for Robert since he was still looking dejected in the corner.

He sat at one of the empty chairs and several people filled their plates and joined him. No one engaged him in conversation, choosing to talk with whomever was next to them, but that was perfectly fine with him. Edison had no idea what to talk about with some of them that wasn’t work-related, anyway. Jessica was crowded at the far side of the room with Skylar and his group of guys, who flocked behind him like baby ducks wherever he went.

“Here Edison. I made your favorite… chili.” Mila beamed proudly, placing a bowl next to Edison’s plate. He smiled up at her. Her round cheeks flushed with pride. “I used the recipe you gave me last year. I never lost it.”

Chili was one of his favorite dishes… in the winter. Not when it was ninety-nine in the shade at the end of a Virginia Beach summer. Edison shook his head at her. “You’re amazing, Mimi. This looks delicious.”

Many of their coworkers agreed as they got bowls and began to help themselves. Edison kept checking his watch inconspicuously, wondering when it’d be an appropriate time for the guest of honor to leave. He feared his employees would stay in there—not doing any work—for as long as he allowed it.

Mila turned back to him after she’d been speaking with their receptionist Rosemary, for several minutes. She glanced down at Edison’s leftover food. “You didn’t eat all of your chili. Was it too spicy?”

He leaned in close to her and whispered. “No, it was perfect. I have a date tonight.” He patted his stomach. “I don’t think I should partake of too many beans.”

Mila threw her head back and laughed loud enough to attract everyone’s attention. Edison rolled his eyes at her as he ducked his head and fumbled with his tie to hide his own smile. He was unable to conceal the warm feeling that spread in his chest anytime he thought of Bishop.

“That’s so awesome.” She squeezed his arm. “I have to meet him.”

“Shhh,” he said, giving her a look that said he wasn’t talking about that here.

“Yes, of course. Before we all go…” Mila stood and walked to the other side of the conference room and took a single card from behind the podium. “We all signed this, Edison.”

All he could think was, I’m so glad this is almost over as he got up and met her halfway. All the random conversations had come to a halt when he tore open the envelope. The greeting card was full of so many signatures on the inside that he could hardly find the card’s message.

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