Page 54 of Just The Way You Aren't

"Calling Willow Harper cell phone," the automated female voice chirps.

I put the phone to my ear. It only takes two rings for Willow to answer.

"Hi!" she says, sounding surprised. "Are you all right? Is everything okay with your mom?"

"She’s fine. I'm fine," I respond quickly. "Do I not sound fine?"

She laughs. "Yes, it's just… this call isn't on my schedule. Is it on yours? Did I miss it somehow?"

My cheeks heat up at her lighthearted teasing. "No. Not on the schedule. I just… wanted to hear your voice."

Willow is silent for a moment. "Oh. Okay." She'd lost her teasing tone now. "Damien, are you sure you're okay? You sound… stressed."

"Actually, can I see you?" I ask, shocked at my own spontaneity.

She pauses again. "Of course."

"I mean now," I clarify. "I want to see you now. If you’re available, that is."

"Okay. Um, yeah, okay. I'm doing rounds for Chelsea again. Her husband is still sick with the flu, but?—"

"Where are you at? I can come meet you. Finish your rounds with you."

"Wow. Okay. Um, you can meet me at Mrs. Baumgartner's," she suggests. "I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Great. I'll meet you there." I hang up and toss my tabletinto my briefcase. I would leave it here—I would leave it all here—but the Silver Hearts charity event information is on it. As I'm grabbing my suit jacket, Rhonda walks into my office with a stack of papers.

"Mr. Langley, I need—" She stops. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes. Rhonda, please clear my schedule. I'm taking the afternoon off.”

She blinks at me like I just said I was leaving to go rob a bank. "You're… I'm sorry, did you say that you're taking the afternoon off?"

"I did." I button my suit jacket and pick up my briefcase. "Please, no calls. Not even Mr. Walt."

"You're… taking the afternoon off," she repeats, her jaw slack. “The entire afternoon?”

"Yes." I scowl. “Was that not clear?”

Rhonda's shocked expression turns into a wide grin. "Finally! You have a wonderful time, Mr. Langley. Don't come back until at least tomorrow. Maybe the day after."

I chuckle. "Don’t act too excited, or I’ll leave here thinking I must be a terrible boss."

She drops the stack of papers on my desk, but shoos me away from them and toward the door. "This will still be here when you get back. Go on now. Go!"

I make my way to the elevator, people popping their heads over their cubicles like meerkats. Perhaps they've never seen me leaving the office in daylight? It's possible.

Alfred leans over a cubicle, looking down the shirt of one of our customer service agents. She doesn't look comfortable.

I glower at the lech. "Julie, could you go help Rhonda, please? I'm leaving for the day and I'm sure she can use the assistance clearing my schedule."

Looking infinitely relieved, she stands and hurries away.

Alfred frowns at me. "What do you mean, you're leaving for the day?"

"Just what I said." I push past him.

"But the Guardian project!” he splutters. “Your father would never leave in the middle of the day when we’re in the midst of a potential crisis with one of our biggest clients!"

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