Page 128 of Not In The Contract
Devon
ItwasweirdforTamera to suggest we do lunch at work, but we’d been missing each other every other time we tried to make plans. It was like both our schedules suddenly blew up, making it virtually impossible to see each other. A blonde with horn-rimmed glasses, barely out of her teens, bounded over to me in reception. She wore a sun-kissed tan and the smile of someone who’s never known heartbreak.
“Tamera says to grab a coffee and wait in her office.” Her easy smile brightened. “The meeting’s almost over.”
I tried my best to neatly tuck away the seams of my sorrow and return her buoyant glee. “Tell Tamera she should wear a name tag, because I might not recognize her when she walks in.”
The bubbly blonde laughed, her beach curls gyrating under the weight of it. “It’s been a while, huh?”
“FaceTime’s been apocalyptic level silent.” I shrugged, grabbing my purse as I followed her through to the coffee bar.
The sweet aroma of hazelnut wafted out to greet me while my assigned hostess reloaded the machine.
“I wouldn’t take it personally.” She deftly navigated her way through a simple latte. “We’ve barely caught sight of her this week. Hence the catch-up meeting.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”
I’d assumed Tamera’s radio silence was because of work overload, as usual.
A light tapping on glass got both our attention, and we turned in the direction of the boardroom to find Tamera standing there. She used the Sharpie in her hand to tap at the glass again, then motioned with her head for the blonde to get back inside. I was given a knowing wink before she turned back to her staff to continue with the meeting.
“It’ll yell at you once it’s finished.” The blonde waved at the coffee machine, already making her way to the boardroom. Then, calling over her shoulder, she added, “I’m Bijou, by the way.”
Bijou. Jewel. That was somehow fitting, given the constant glint in her impossibly green eyes.
“Thanks, I’m Devon,” I called after her.
“Yeah, I know.” There was something different about the smile she gave me that time. But she’d slipped back inside the boardroom before I could figure it out.
Tamera glanced at me with a knowing look, then pointed—with the Sharpie—in the direction of her office. I gave her a nod of acknowledgment just as the coffee machine beeped, signaling the completion of my hazelnut latte. I took my coffee and obediently moved across the floor to the only room without glass walls.
Tamera’s office was like a honeysuckle-scented sanctuary amidst the general buzz of the place, and I made myself comfortable on the sofa next to the large floor-to-ceiling window. Water trickled lazily in the rock feature on the coffee table, beside which stood a freshly lined table-top zen garden. I sank back into the plush cushions and took a sip of my steaming latte, eyes scanning the row of clocks on the wall opposite me. London, Paris, Tokyo…
It still astounded me to think there were people around the world, right then, as I was making my way to the bottom of one of the best coffees of my life, in various states of being. Fast asleep, in the middle of the work day, having dinner with their families.
My gaze locked on the date in block numbers beneath the clock face, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Jamie’s party had come and gone. I wondered how it went. Whether all that planning panned out. More importantly, I wondered how Alex held up through the ordeal of it.
I shook my head slightly, physically trying to rid myself of the thought as soon as it occurred to me. I’d been wondering several things about Alex over the past few days, and knew it wasn’t in my best interest to dwell. It was my decision, this distance, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.
There was a jarring knock on the door with absolutely no pause before a scrawny delivery guy barged in, arms laden with take-out bags.
“Oh, hey.” He nearly tripped on his way over to the coffee table, desperately clutching the brown paper bags as he sailed over.
“Uh… hi.” I forced a smile and watched him set down the food. The distinct smell of egg foo young crept up my nostrils, making my stomach grumble audibly.
The delivery guy flashed a half-smile on his way out. “They’re pretty much finished in there. Saw them getting up as I came in.”
My cheeks grew warm and I rubbed my belly self-consciously. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“Right on time, as always.” Tamera swept into the office, slipping the guy a twenty before closing the door behind him.
“Me or him?” I asked, immediately unpacking the mystery spread in front of me.
“Both.” Tamera flopped down on the sofa next to me, then kicked off her shoes and pulled up to sit on her knees. “What’s with the face?”
I blinked, realizing that I’d been staring, and went back to searching the boxes for that egg foo young. “Not a face. I just missed you, that’s all.”
“Awww, how sweet. And also, I call bullshit.” Tamera quirked a brow. “Spill it. It’s the least you can do since I’m feeding you.”
