up, we were bombarded with more work than we knew how to handle that week at Monroe Designs. Gemma had taken over Makoa’s condo project after I’d begged her to, explaining what happened between us at the end of our date. She wasn’t happy about it, but with my hands tied up in the three floors of office space that I hadn’t even started designs for, there really was no other option.
In a weird way, I was saved by the last-minute dump of work.
I didn’t even mind being in the office or at the construction site from sun up to sundown. I lost myself in working with the architects and the engineers, in walking through each floorplan with the construction crew, in designing and re-designing every inch of every floor, from the cubicle areas to the conference rooms to the offices and the break rooms and everything in-between. Coffee & Cubicles was a shared workplace company, where small businesses and freelancers could rent office space. What set them apart from the other workspace companies I’d worked with was that they were high-end, with an emphasis on design, office view, and quality of the workspace they offered. This wasn’t just throwing together some desks and thin walls. This was designing a workspace that felt like a penthouse.
So, yes, it was easy to get caught up in the brain power it took to create something like that.
And when I threw myself into work, I could ignore how much my chest felt like a giant hole had been kicked into it.
I’d taken today off only after Gemma had forced me to, locking me out of the work system until tomorrow at the earliest, but Monday if she could help it. It’s Saturday, she’d argued, as if that was a reason to stop distracting myself from reality.
She’d dragged me to brunch this morning, toted me around on her arm while she shopped for lingerie for her wedding night and a swimsuit to wear on her honeymoon, and then convinced me to get in a yoga flow with her before we ordered dinner for the night.
She was in full-force, best-friend mode, and as much as I wanted to burrito up in my sadness all alone, I was thankful she wouldn’t let me.
My phone finally stopped ringing after what felt like forever, and I blew out an audible sigh, following Gemma’s lead as she transitioned into triangle pose. We left one hand on the ground by our foot, extending the other one in the air to get a good spinal twist, and I felt that detox goodness that only yoga can provide slowly filling me up.
And then, my damn phone rang again.
I growled, standing upright, but before I could take a step, Gemma’s hand shot out to smack my thigh.
“Leave it.”
“I’m just going to turn the ringer off so it doesn’t bother us.”
“It’s fine. Get your ass back on your mat and inhale, exhale, bitch.”
I made a noise in my throat, rolling my eyes with an exaggerated temper tantrum before I got back in position. Once again, my phone stopped ringing, and we started to slip into peace, flowing with the soft, new-age music.
Less than a minute later, my phone rang again.
“That’s it,” I said, and I scrambled out of Gemma’s reach when she tried to stop me this time. In the process, she tumbled out of her fallen triangle and landed on her ass, cursing me and crawling to try to grab my ankles, but I skittered away from her.
I was in such a rush to get to my phone before Gemma could stop me that I didn’t even think twice once it was in my hand. I saw Makoa’s name, and I hit the ignore button once, silencing the tone without ending the call completely.
“Who is it?”
“No one,” I said, but my stomach shriveled up at the sight of the letters that made up his name.
Gemma popped up, stealing my phone before I could register that it was her intention.
“Gemma, stop!”
“It’s Makoa,” she said, holding the phone away from me while I swatted around her to try to get it. “Belle, you still haven’t talked to him?”
“There’s nothing to say,” I said, still trying to knock the phone out of her hands.
“I beg to differ,” she said.
And then, the traitorous bitch answered the phone.
“Makoa! Hey, it’s Gemma. What’s up?” Her smile disappeared quickly, and she cocked a brow at me. “No, this isn’t the office phone. This is Belle’s cell.” He said something, and