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Chapter 11

WAYLON

Ms Fischer knocks on my door. I wave her in with my free hand while I flip through a file with the other. As she walks in, she throws a look in my direction. It makes me sit up straight and take notice of her face.

Did she hear all that went down with Andie over the phone?

Why wouldn't she?

I literally sent Ms Fischer into a madman's cave to retrieve something I could have easily replaced if not for how I wanted this to play out. At least, with this extra effort, Andie got the hint, and her psychotic episodes are doomed now if she still tries to pursue me.

Here's hoping she'll leave me alone.

"Did you get my card?" I question her as soon as she stands opposite my desk. Then I follow up with another burning question in my mind. "Did Andie give you any trouble?"

Ms Fischer runs a hand through her forehead, wiping some sweat off her brow. Then she brushes her hand on her skirt then reaches in her purse to produce the black card for me. She gazes at me as she swipes the card against the wooden surface of the work desk towards me.

"Here you go." Her words are dry and devoid of any emotion. "This is a personal favour that I'm returning to you. Can I go back to my work now?"

I nod, then play with my pen, hitting the tip of it repeatedly against the rigid surface of the table. 

"You didn't answer my question, though."

"What do you mean by that?" She puts her gaze on the red platform heels she's wearing. "I didn't hear you."

"I asked you this. Did Andie give you any trouble while you were there?" I tilt my face to get a closer look at hers. "You look different."

You look different?

What do I even mean by that?

Couldn't you have come up with something better, Waylon?

"No." She shakes her head and then smiles gently. "It went down amicably. She gave me this card once she talked to you. Then I came back to the office for work. That is all."

"Ah!" I play with my fingers as I run them on the edge of the file in my hand. "All right, you can go back to your work now."

"Thank you."

As she pivots on her feet, I clear my throat.

"Ms Fischer?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

I see her body get stiff at my words, and she doesn't even move a muscle. After a long moment, she nods her head.

"It's all good."

***

EVERETT

Kyra knocks at my office door, which is a first for her, before she steps in, peering at me. Her hand is on her waist as she gazes at the document I'm editing on my computer as she stands behind me.

"Are you going to be here for a while?" Her voice almost startles me because the room is pin-drop silent. But then, I see her coming in through the room, so I tilt my chin up from the screen. "I'm just asking you because I'll be here for a while."

"Uhh." My brain is still stuck on the report I was making, but I try my best to form a coherent sentence. "That sounds nice." I sigh. "What time is it?" I ask without looking it up on the laptop or my phone. Then I check my phone screen. "What the fuckity fuckity fuck?"

Fuck me. 

I'm so late.

What will Nathan of me?

To think I'm more than an hour late for our anniversary date?

"What happened?" Kyra chuckles at my word usage. "Is something wrong?"

I close the document on my computer not before sending a copy of it to her, quickly typing her email as if I have a fire set under my fingers.

"It's my freaking third year anniversary with my boyfriend. He's preparing something for me tonight. Maybe he's cooking dinner for me." I push back the ergonomic chair as I straighten my back, collecting my things from the desk. "Oh! He's going to be so mad and disappointed. And he'll probably give me the silent treatment. That's even worse." My palms are on my face, running my fingers through my cheeks. "What if he hates me? He'll surely hate me. Oh, I'm so late."

Kyra folds her arms over her chest.

"Just go," she pipes in. "Tell the dude you were working on an extremely time-sensitive and significant project for the company, and if your guy doesn't believe you, call me, and we can talk it through on the phone. It'll work out, anyway." She shrugs. "Get a cab right now. Don't cheap out and use the subway. You'll probably get there later that way."

I nod as I get a hold of my purse and make a run for the door.

"Wish me luck!" I yell before closing the door behind me. "It looks like I'm going to need it."

***

The subway is nothing but crowded, and there's a sea of people crammed into tiny tight spaces leaning over each other. It figures that my luck is running poorly today. By the time I got downstairs, the cab I had called was taken by none other than the freaking CEO's secretary as he slid into the car, talking on his phone. I couldn't even run fast enough to tell him that this cab was my taxicab because of my high platform heels that got in the way. It's a good thing I didn't slip, fall down, break a leg or something in my body, given how clumsy I really am. I'm sure Nathan would have loved getting a call from the hospital telling him to pick up his broken girlfriend and take her home because she needs some sleep since I would have taken too many painkillers to numb the pain.

I take an open seat on the right as soon as someone gets off at the upcoming station, and I sit my ass down. Then, I pull my phone out of my pocket and go through my contacts to find Nathan's number. I press dial at the green button and wait for the call to be connected.

This desperation to prove I'm not doing this on purpose sets off some delicate nerves in my body. I wait and wait, and the call rings and rings, but Nathan doesn't pick up.

Where is he?

Why is he not picking up?

Isn't he worried that I might be dead or something since I didn't show up at his place around the time he told me to come?

My fingers shuffle through our texts on the online chat messenger, and I see I'm right. He asked me to show up more than an hour ago, but he failed to text me at all when I didn't.

Not only that, he didn't even call me.

That's so unlike him.

I stare at my phone's screen for a long minute before placing a call to him again that goes straight to his voicemail.

Did he turn off his phone because I was calling him?

How mad is he at me right now?

I start to furiously type a long paragraph on my phone conveying my feelings about his aloofness, but I hold myself back, knowing that I'm the one who's in the wrong right now. It was me who got caught up in work and forgot to send him a text updating him I'll be late for our date. Again, it was me who didn't call him once to check up on him today, considering how important today is for the both of us. It's not like him to ignore me. Maybe he's just hurt that I didn't call first, so he had to hold himself back to see if I remembered our special day in the first place before he could wish me with his kind and loving words.

We had made plans about today weeks ago without acknowledging what today is, so maybe he wants to see if I remember them?

Now that I think about it, it all makes sense. I have hurt his heart without wanting to, so I should make it all better.

I wonder maybe getting him the new game console set to launch in the market this week would serve the goal. For the past four months, he has been talking endlessly about it to me and gosh, he would be so happy if I showed up with that. He would be mad at first, but then it'd be all right, and my small mistake won't matter as much as his new gaming console. He has been looking forward to playing it for a while, and maybe I can play on the console with him tonight if I get it for him. I can glimpse through the windows of the retail tech store on the way to his apartment if it is still open when I get there. 

He would be so happy to receive it as a gift.

The thought itself fills me with happiness. I wonder if maybe this could be a reason for me to get lucky tonight?

Finally, the station where I need to get off comes into view, and I get up and stand near the door, waiting for it to open. When the doors slide open, I get off the train with a million other people catching cabs and rushing to only the universe knows where they need to get tonight.

I walk in the direction of my boyfriend's apartment, crossing my fingers and hoping to do a quick tour of the gaming store to pick up his secret anniversary gift.

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