Page 24 of Somewhere Along The Line
I press the red END button and linger with my cheek pressed to the cool wood, taking a deep breath as I hear my office door open.
“JAMESSSS, my man, I’d ask how it’s going but I can see it’s not great.” Kyle walks over and gives me a rough slap on the back.
I lift my head slightly before deciding I’d rather melt into the desk.
“Just stopping by to chat about the term sheet but if you want to keep talking about Piper, I’m game for that too,” he says.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I sit up and stretch, shaking out my arms and rolling my neck. “It’s still nothing, by the way—this situation between Piper and I. ‘Cause I’m dead inside and all that.”
“You’re looking dead, alright.”
I push some life back into my legs and stand from my chair, gesturing my head toward the door. Kyle leads the way back to his office where we’ll go through the document together.
I swipe my phone from the desk and type a quick note on my way out, Kyle’s back toward me keeping him oblivious.
Piper gives the message a thumbs up and I slip my phone into my pocket. The rest of the day better be nothing but spreadsheets and emails. I need to pull my head out of my ass before I see her later.
It’s 5:45 p.m. and I can’t remember the last time I left the office this early. I got enough done to head out, though I’ll need to log on this weekend to finish up a few tasks. It’s a beautiful night for a walk, not too cold and not totally dark, the sort of fall evening that makes you nostalgic for high school football games and the way you thought you had the world at your feet.
I haven’t been down to Brandt Park in years, having routinely ignored what the city has to offer in favor of my computer screen. I make a mental note to tell Dad I stopped by, and even if I leave the fake wife out of it, he’ll be glad I touched some grass.
Piper is standing at the back side of the fountain, and the sight of her checking her phone and looking around occasionally to take in her surroundings lifts a smile to my cheeks.
Is she texting Sami, the roommate who seemedveryinterested in our situation when I ran into the two of them the other night at the bar? I add Sami to the running list of questions I’ve been collecting for tonight. I wonder if she’s been collecting questions too.
“Pipes!” I bellow and watch her jump at the sound before she catches my figure heading toward her. I’m surprised she’s here early. Frankly, I’m surprised I’m here early.
She starts walking my way and I take in the sight of her, appreciating that the distance means I can let my eyes hang on her frame a bit longer than usual.
She’s wearing a skirt—this one hits her mid-shin—and she has boots underneath with fuzzy socks curled over the top. Her printed T-shirt looks vintage and comfortably worn, resting under a thick sweater that hangs loosely over her shoulders; she pulls it across her chest as she walks. Her hair is different than I’ve seen it, gathered to one side of her neck, maybe in a braid.
A figment of desire flashes behind my eyes and I watch myself grab it gently, tugging her hair to pull her close to me, to tilt her chin up to mine for a kiss.
Stop.I shake my head, attempting to cage in the image and replace it with the email that’s still open on my laptop, also begging for my attention.
“How’s it going?” I ask. I want to seem friendly but not overeager. Not like I just pictured her mouth on my mine, the thought briefly setting my skin on fire.
“It’s going!” Piper responds, and we stand there for a beat, looking at each other and waiting for someone to take the lead. It should probably be me, so I start walking.
“I figured we could walk around and get to know each other,” I say. “Share some facts about ourselves and then make a plan for our visit to the station. Officer Knowles called me today and said we can stop by whenever so I told him we’d try for Monday; we can compare schedules and decide on a time. Does that work for you?”
“Sounds great,” she agrees before stepping in front of me and turning so we’re facing each other. She keeps the pace purposely slow now that she’s walking backward. “You want to go first? Tell me, what makes Mr. James Newhouse tick?”
Piper smiles, a sneaky bend to her lips like she’s spotted something shiny after weeks of looking for gold.
“Well, I told you I’m an only child. That’s a big one. I’m pretty sure that’s why I have such stunted social skills.”
She gives me a look that says my self-deprecation isn’t landing. I won’t do it again.
“I grew up in the suburbs, about forty minutes from here if you’re driving and using the express lane, and my dad still lives there. He’s retired now.” I’m not sure if this is useful information, but Piper listens attentively as she strolls, glancing over her shoulder sometimes to make sure the path is still clear.
“That’s a good start,” she says, her brown eyes filled with curiosity and her expression encouraging. She wants me to keep talking. I’ll do whatever she wants.
“Um, I’ve been working at Trion, the investment bank, for about seven years now. Mostly mergers and acquisitions. I’m very fast with a spreadsheet.”
My stunted social skills are fully on display, and I have no idea what I’m saying, much less why. I push through my sudden queasiness to share more.
“I live near Carmack and Lafayette, so one stop ahead of you on the B Line. No roommates, which seems relevant, since I already know you have one.” I give her a grin and watch as she replays the memory of our chance meeting a few days back.
