Page 92 of Night and Day
Mia peered down to the polished granite floor below. She caught sight of the sliding doors closing behind a dark figure who disappeared from view. The picture lasted only a half-second, but it stole the air from her lungs. Izzy. Ignoring, she charged down the stairs, blood pumping in her ears.
He couldn’t be here. She’d only seen someone with dark hair and a guitar case on their back. It could have been anybody.
“What’s up?” Vesa stood behind the reception desk, a baffled look on his face.
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know. He asked for you. I told him you were still out at lunch. When did you get back?”
Mia growled in frustration, running straight out the doors. She’d deal with Vesa later. But as she stepped on the footpath, a tram stopped at the station and opened its doors, spilling a group of commuters from its guts. Mia sprinted down the street, weaving her way through the crowd. By the time she had a clear view of the street, he’d disappeared. It was four thirty p.m. and already getting dark. She couldn’t even see into the shadows between the buildings that curved along the road. He could have stepped into one of the side streets. As if on cue, the first of the street lights flickered on, lighting up more snow-covered footpath and strangers.
With no coat, the winter chill bit her skin and Mia shivered. She had to go back and get dressed. She’d figure out how to contact him, if indeed he was here.
Stepping back into reception, she found Vesa flirting with two young ladies with trendy haircuts. They must have been the focus group. She cut in mid-sentence. “Sorry, but I need to know everything he said.”
“Who?” Visa stared back, fighting to keep whatever relaxed, magnanimous persona he’d been presenting to the girls.
“The guy who was just here. The one who asked for me.”
“Let me see... He had a funny accent, but I understood him since I’ve spent a summer in New York and got used to all those accents... So it was no problem.” He cast a look at the girls, making sure they were listening. “He asked for you. I said you’d gone out to lunch and hadn’t come back. Then he asked if you work here, and I said yes.”
“And then he left?”
Vesa looked up, scratching his jaw. “No. He asked how you got the job.”
“How I got the job?” Mia swallowed, cold spreading underneath her skin. “What did you say?”
Visa pulled a face. “I should have said it’s none of his business, right? It was an odd question. But he was so polite about it... like ‘oh, really? How did she end up working here?’ Like he was just making conversation. So I said you knew Mikko so you’ve been involved from the start. I joked that you’re part of the furniture.”
“Oh, my God!” Mia buried her face in her hands, ignoring the strange looks from the young women. “I’m not part of the furniture! We don’t evenhavefurniture!”
“It’s a saying,” Vesa argued, clearly proud of himself for knowing a colloquial, English phrase.
Mia fought the urge to slap the smug grin off his face. “Whatever.”
She ran upstairs, slipped on her coat and gathered her things.
Mikko reappeared, wearing an angry scowl. “Where did you run off to? I don’t think we’re finished with that conversation. I know we have history, but I can’t have you talking to me like that, especially in the office. I’m the CE, Mia. I know these titles are silly and we all work on the same goals, but I have to keep up certain appearances. I can’t have you undermining the product when you should be selling and promoting it.”
Mia took a breath, the clarity she’d been searching for months finally arriving like a beam of light. “No, you can’t. It’s best for both of us that I quit. This is it.”
His eyes widened with panic. “But Slush is in two days!”
“I’ll email you the pitch. Just follow the script. You can do it.”
“No, I can’t...”
Mia placed her work computer and phone on a nearby desk, then hoisted the lightened satchel on her shoulder and grabbed the canvas bag with Izzy’s phone in it. “I’ll give you a tip though. It’ll make all the difference.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t need tips. I need someone to do the job!” Mikko frowned, his eyes shooting daggers at her.
“Do you want the tip or not?” Mia buttoned her coat, hovering at the edge of the stairs.
Mikko shrugged, huffing out an angry sigh. “What?”
Mia cast him a wide smile. “Relax your butt cheeks. Apparently, constantly clenching them makes you seem like a douche. I heard this from a focus group.”
With that, she skipped down the stairs, her heart glowing so brightly she couldn’t hear the angry words he hurled at her receding back.
