Her omen echoed through me for the next few days and on the first day of my internship, I told myself over and over that Jax hadn’t called. We weren’t together. We worked in different departments. He wouldn’t seek me out. He wouldn’t come looking for me.
I took my first two-hour train ride into the city and walked the rest of the way to the Stonewood Enterprises building. The height of it humbled me as I looked up before walking in.
When I stepped through the doors, there Jax stood, just as tall in my mind as the building. Dressed in a dark navy suit with his hair slicked back, he was just as foreboding and awe-inspiring too.
He stood in the lobby with two coffee cups, looking at me expectantly. Like I should go to him, like we were meeting here. I took him in and saw circles under his eyes. Those blue eyes didn’t hold much sparkle and he didn't smile. He just looked me up and down as if he were measuring me up.
I didn't move, my stilettos had frozen to the ground. I congratulated myself on wearing the white dress that fit so well, that he swore he'd destroy. I knew, at the very least, I looked good standing there like an idiot, holding on to my briefcase as if it would save me from having to talk to him.
On the phone, yelling at him, I could do. Seeing him and knowing what he’d done for me, for us, I didn’t know if my knees would give out or I would end up crying on the floor on my first day.
He walked to me, and I tried to ready myself for a conversation.
When I opened my mouth, he shook his head and shoved the cup in my hand. "It's a chai latte."
"I don't drink—"
"Humor me, okay?"
My eyes started to water at those words. "Jax."
He shook his head again. "Not today, Whitfield. Enjoy your first day. White looks phenomenal on you."
He walked away, and I whispered that blue looked phenomenal on him too.
My first four days flew by. Every morning, he met me in the lobby, offering a chai latte and a compliment on my attire. My work day then consisted of fretting over our minute-long encounter and trying to absorb every little lesson Jett had to offer. When we dove into different portfolios, I remembered I could do all of it, that I enjoyed doing it.
By the end of the work week, I’d found a rhythm. I got ready by dressing in a simple black pencil skirt and flowy black top. I wondered if Jax would have something to say about it as I entered the lobby and waited for my chai latte.
When I stopped to look around for him, I was surprised to find he wasn’t there.
I tried to shake it off, but his absence weighed on me throughout the day. When Jett asked me what to do about a particularly tricky portfolio, Jax’s words from so long ago popped into my head. “Let yourself fly a little.”
I thought I saw him in the halls and around the corners or smelled him in the conference rooms. He was nowhere to be found. At lunch, I got in the elevator to go find something quick to eat when he appeared.
No one followed him on and when I saw his face, I knew why. He looked ready to cut down anyone who got in his way.
“Whitfield,” he nodded as the doors closed.
“Jax,” I nodded back and glanced around, wondering if anyone could see us enclosed in the elevator by ourselves.
“You look good,” he grunted.
“Thanks,” I whispered because it was all I could manage. We were alone, and I smelled the mint I missed, felt the presence I longed for, and saw the man I couldn’t quite figure out but knew I loved.
“We need to talk.”
I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea,” I blurted.
He just looked down at me and mouthed inevitable. Then he stepped forward and swiped his key FOB.
“Jax! I have work to do.”
“You’re on your lunch.”
“Well, I’m working during lunch.” I crossed my arms.
He smiled a little. “Now who works too much?”