It all ends too quickly, however, as we apparently only live a few blocks from one another. She rolls to a stop outside of my townhouse and I look over to her. “Can I text you?” I ask sheepishly.
She grins and nods. “Yeah, as long as you aren’t going to make anymore wild accusations.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “I’ll make sure to get to the bottom of what happened. I promise.”
“You better,” Wren snickers.
Then, I lean across the center console and kiss her sweetly and briefly. With that, we part ways. My heart patters as I go through my own morning routine. The thought of Wren is more of a stimulant than the coffee. By the time I’m showered and dressed, there’s enough time left over for me to stop and get breakfast for everyone. I opt for bagels, assuming Hanna will be more hungover any than anyone else.
Sure enough, I step into the shop to find her laid on the couch with a sweatshirt blanketing her head. Smirking, I shut the door firmly so it lets out a loud chime and smack. Hanna groans, “Why are you early? And so loud?”
“Had things to do this morning. But I did have enough time to pick up breakfast for everyone.”
With that, Hanna perks up and Justine nears. I set the bag of bagels down and pluck out my lox bagel before gesturing for them to help themselves. “You’re a saint,” Hanna sighs as she unwraps her favorite breakfast sandwich: an everything bagel with bacon and cream cheese.
“I know,” I nod and continue to eye her. “How much did you have to drink last night?”
She looks about shyly and shrugs. “A shark bowl.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “That explains why you sent me the wrong number. Whatever customer complained, I didn’t get ahold of them. You gave me Wren Foster’s number.”
Turning to head into my office, I only stop when she chirps, “Oh, I know.”
Pivoting on my heel, I stare her down. “What do you mean you know? She didn’t complain.”
Hanna can hardly conceal her smile, even with her trying to distract from it by taking a massive bite of her sandwich. My glare intensifies and she throws up her arms in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe I made the whole thing up to get the two of you to talk. I know we shouldn’t get involved with customers blah blah blah, but I figured you needed some company last night even if you didn’t know it.”
For a long minute, I can only blink. I should be livid that she interfered with my personal life, used a customer to do so, and all against my wishes to be alone. And yet, no matter how deep I dig within myself to find that anger, I can only find amusement. Before I know it, I’m laughing. Had she not meddled in my life, I would have jacked off on my couch, got drunk, and went to bed sad and alone.
“Alright, well. Thanks.” With that, I head to my office again.
“Wait! What does that mean?! Did you guys talk? Or go out?!”
I ignore the questions and shut the door behind me. The smile on my face doesn’t budge as I sit down at my desk and start eating my breakfast. Things are still crazy, but maybe things are aligning to fall into place. I have such a good feeling about Wren, even if I rationally know it’s only infatuation right now.
My phone buzzes and I look down at it.
WREN: Don’t forget to eat something.
Biting my lip, I way my options before sending a rather risky text.
ME: I would, but I only have an appetite for one thing. And sadly, you’re not here.
Chapter Eleven
Wren
My cheeks flush at the sight of his suggestive text. I squirm in my seat and look up at my open office door. Enough time has passed that people are starting to arrive and even though I have my own office, there’s something embarrassing and invigorating about receiving a text like that in public. Nibbling on my lip, I respond.
ME: I could help with that at lunch.
Putting my phone away, I try to focus on my job. Thankfully, I’ve finished the presentation that my boss needs before anyone else arrived. Still, there’s so much to be done. Not to mention, I’m anxious for the feedback on it. I know it needs to be perfect to make up for it being late. As I pour over spreadsheets, my phone vibrates.
EMANUEL: Oh really? I’ll make sure you leave lunch stuffed too. If you really want to meet up.
I bite my lip and put it to the side to think on my response. My body temperature rises just at thinking about having a lunchtime quickie with him. And of course, I want to meet up with him. As much as my rational mind wanted to dissect the choice to go out for fun instead of talk about things, I'm thankful we did. I feel brand new and free for the first time in a long, long time. It’s been so long since I cut loose and just embraced what I wanted. Funnily enough, it is Emanuel that I want.