feet, but it’s only a few steps. I convince myself that it’s my best option.
“Come in before my food gets cold,” Mr. Baxter says from inside his office. He’s as chipper as always. I smile as I walk in, hoping it might rub off on him. I’d even take a smirk from his angular face at this point.
“I was going to knock.”
“Now you want to knock?” His tone is mocking.
“Knock knock.” I smile bigger at him, trying to lighten his mood. He doesn’t look the least bit amused.
“Don’t bother with the sunny disposition,” he half growls at me. My smile falters for a moment, but I quickly recover. He’ll have to do a lot more than this to break my spirit.
“Is there anything else I can get you before I head to lunch?” I ask as I place the tray on his desk.
“You’re leaving?” He looks up at me for the first time since I entered his office. I almost think he was trying to avoid looking at me.
“My lunch is at noon according to my schedule.” I’m almost positive that I read that part right. I triple checked.
“Most eat at their desk.” His eyes flick to his tray. I have no idea how the other employees do lunch around here. This is my first day, and Kristen asked me to go to lunch with her. Since I’m new, I thought it’d be a great way to fit in. There was nothing in Mr. Baxter’s detailed manual about having to eat lunch at my desk. Maybe he’s not as thorough as he thinks.
“I’m going to lunch with Janet, Kristen, and Jim.” I’m not sure where we’re going, but I’m guessing they’d know the good places around here. “Sam the delivery guy can’t make it. Guess he has more deliveries to make.”
“Who?” He grabs his tray, sliding it in front of him. It’s a steak with a side of vegetables. He didn't even get himself a dessert. I’ll have to add him to my cookie list. He definitely needs some sugar in his life.
“Janet from the reception desk, Kristen from Accounting, and Jim from the mailroom.” How does he not know who I’m talking about? “I’m kind of hoping Kristen is going to let me help her with her baby shower. She was talking about all these ideas, and then I started thinking of my own. I make the best cake pops and I--”
“Stop.” He cuts me off. “We eat at our desk. Not with Jim who works in the mailroom.”
My shoulders drop at the same time my smile does.
“I can’t go?” I swallow. I was making friends here. I was never great at that in college or high school. I wasn’t in with the cool crowd or any of the cliques, but here everyone seems to like me. I was finally feeling as though I was fitting in.
He doesn't answer me as he looks down at his food. I turn to leave. I guess I can eat at my desk and watch Mr. Grumpy Pants on my computer.
“Go to your lunch,” he grits out.
I jerk around to face him.
“Really?” I smile so big it almost hurts.
“Yes.”
I turn and bolt from the room, then grab my purse before he can change his mind. I’m in such a hurry that I don’t realize I forgot to forward my phone calls.
Oops.
5
Liam
Eating my lunch alone doesn’t bother me. Not at all. Never has. I slice my rare steak with a sure stroke of the knife, fork the tender piece, and put it in my mouth. My office is silent, and Georgia’s sweet, sunshine scent barely lingers in the sterile air. Good. I don’t need her perfume ruining my food.
I chew another piece and glance at the press release she drafted up concerning our recent acquisition of an up-and-coming telecom out of California. She’s done a good job, though she needs to add some parts about federal regulations. But she can write. That’s more than I can say for several of her empty-headed predecessors. Even so, Georgia isn’t who I would’ve chosen for this position. She’s too … Too. I wave my knife at the air, slashing through whatever word is on the tip of my tongue.
The vegetables are cold. I eat them anyway. Chewing mechanically, my thoughts wander to her again. She’s eating lunch with that pipsqueak, Jim, from the mailroom. Jim. I stab my steak and cut another chunk off. Who the fuck is that guy and why does he think he gets