Page 50 of Ring Me

Chapter 15

Game Night

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THERE WERE ENOUGH FLOWERSon my desk to host an Easter parade. Each of them had some variety of card congratulating me on my upcoming wedding. Ever since the emails had gone out last week, the gifts kept pouring in.

My employees had all made a point to wish me well in person. I'd shaken their hands while enduring their kind, gushing words, hoping I'd spontaneously melt into the floor.

Shifting a huge bouquet of white roses away from my computer so I could set down my coffee, I spotted the card attached to the blue ribbon.

To your happy future filled with lots of love!

From: The Gibraldi Group.

P.S. You really are amazing at what you do!

That last bit was referencing the changes I'd had them make to their event fliers. The new ones were full of legit singers and songwriters, and one of the girls—Cynthia Southerbee—had shared it to her social media, prompting a ton of organic buzz for the upcoming festival.

Aubrey had pointed out the singer's Instagram had over a million followers. That prompted me to check out her SongCloud account. She was very, very good. I'd bought some of her music on impulse and didn't regret it.

I was definitely going to the event so I could show the Gibraldi group I was supportive of them—and to meet Cynthia in person. I'm old school, I still like getting a CD signed when I can.

But... right now, I couldn't think about any of that. I was extremely embarrassed about all the flowers collecting on my desk for my employees to see. Quick as I could, I called for the building janitor to move everything into the warehouse.

“Hey!” Aubrey said as she sidled up to me. “Are you getting rid of all the flowers?”

“I can't work with them piled everywhere. It's distracting.”

“Should I send the rest directly to the warehouse?”

“Sorry, you mean there's more coming?” I balked.

She shrugged, the two of us watching the janitor load up a cart with all the floral gift baskets and roll it towards the elevator. “You did invite a ton of people.”

I slapped my forehead onto my newly cleared off desk and groaned.

“You need something to cheer you up,” she noted. “Lucky you, I've got the perfect idea. Game night!”

I lifted my head so I could peer at her with one eye. “I'm listening.”

“I want to get some quality time with you.” She cocked her hip playfully. “Aaaaaand I want to see what Mister Yellow Mustang is all about.”

“Don't let his car define him.”

“Fine. Mister No Job.”

“Call him Conner.”

“Right, right. Let's see if Mister Conner Whynn deserves his name.”

My face fell. “Touche.”

“Just drag his cute butt to Max's Game Center after work tonight. I'll invite some friends, we'll play laser tag and drink beer. It'll be great.”

I was warily optimistic. Conner did need to meet Aubrey eventually, why not sooner than later? When she left, I texted a message to him.

Me: Are you good at laser tag?

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