Page 5 of About That One Night
MaxMcAnnoying: Are. You. Okay?
Zoe: Umm . . . yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?
MaxMcAnnoying: I heard over the weekend that you broke up with Tommy Boy. I wanted to make sure you’re indeed okay.
Zoe: I’m fine?
MaxMcAnnoying: You sure?
Zoe: What do you need, McCallister? I’m in the middle of a meeting.
MaxMcAnnoying: As I said, I’m checking on you. After a three-year relationship, a breakup can be pretty jarring. Your sister and BIL are concerned.
Zoe: I’m busy. No time to wonder about my feelings. Can we do this another day?
MaxMcAnnoying: Lunch?
Zoe: I. Am. Busy.
MaxMcAnnoying: Sure, but you need to eat.
Zoe: Probably, I’ll figure that out later.
MaxMcAnnoying: Or . . . and just listen to my brilliant idea. What if I drop by your office with food?
Zoe: I don’t have time to entertain your nonsense, talk to anyone else—or text. Bye.
MaxMcAnnoying: Why are you lying, Zoe Isabella Harper?
Zoe: What?
MaxMcAnnoying: You said you’re in a meeting, but you’re not in any of the conference rooms.
Zoe: I’m at a client’s office.
MaxMcAnnoying: Nope, your car is still in the garage and according to the database, your badge is still on the premises.
Zoe: Are you hacking the firm’s security server and CCTV again? Ugh . . . You are so intrusive. I should sue you.
MaxMcAnnoying: It’s not hacking when I own the system. You can’t sue me, when my job is making sure that the firm is safe. Obviously, I’m trying to find you before I go in. So, let me guess, you’re working through lunch in your office.
Zoe: Does your client know you use the system for personal purposes?
MaxMcAnnoying: I’m looking after their employees—still taking care of their interests. They’d probably appreciate me for that, and I might even get to charge more for this new service. Now, take a break and have lunch with me.
Zoe: I have work to do. Not everyone has a job . . . what is it that you do again? I feel like you pretend to play with those screens in your office and have people running around while you bark nonsense.
MaxMcAnnoying: I see, we’re hangry.
Zoe: Don’t be condescending. I need to go. My bossis at the door.
MaxMcAnnoying: Yeah, go open the door for your boss. (wink emoji)
“Come on in, it’s open,” Zoe’s voice comes from the other side of the door.
Slowly, I open it, grinning as if I just won something but also showing the bag with food. Zoe’s green eyes widen. Her light brown hair is tied up in a bun held by two pens. Her jacket is on the couch, and her blouse is open enough to show a little cleavage. Her pouty lips are slightly parted and even when I shouldn’t, I want to kiss them. She’s just too cute and tempting.
“McCallister.” Her voice is a little severe. I’m pretty sure she’s about to kick me out—pretending she’s waiting for something or another. Her excuses worked when we first met, but after the second week I learned her tells and figured out when she’s avoiding me or just burying herself in work.
