Page 7 of Wild Return
No. Not tonight. I chuck the letters back into the backpack. I’ve wasted enough time thinking about Viking today. I will not let him invade my peace any more than he has already.
I take a seat at my craft table and click on the desk lamp.
A half-finished figurine awaits on my painting station. She’s a warrior with a wild red braid and gleaming armor. I select a fine-tipped paintbrush and a teal color for the outline of her shield.
As my brush moves, my breathing steadies. But thoughts of Viking invade my mind. The way he pulled my hair like we were kids, the tingle I felt down my spine when his fingers brushed against my back, the way my skin prickled when he called me cupcake.
I squint at the figurine, focusing harder as I switch colors and apply the paint to another highlight.
After an hour of crafting, my mind is clear, and my head aches from concentrating so hard.
I set the warrior down to dry.
Tomorrow I’ll ignore the letters, ignorehim, and get on with work and the inventory audit. I’ve crafted my own peace, and I won’t let a man disrupt it.
4
VIKING
It’s just before three when I push open the glass door to the communal office, holding a steaming mug of coffee.
Sydney’s in the meeting with Barrels and the rest of the team for their daily check-in. I know because I hacked her work calendar, so I’d know when she wasn’t at her desk.
I leave the steaming mug on her desk and slip out of the office door.
I’ve set up a security hub in the room next door. It’s taken me a week to install new security cameras and a bank of monitors. I checked back on all the security footage we have, but it’s patchy and there was no trace of our keg thief.
It’s kept me busy, and I’ve given Sydney her space. But now it’s time to win her over.
A glass wall separates our offices, and I take a seat in front of my wall of monitors just as the door to the meeting room opens. I resist the urge to smile to myself at the perfect timing. The coffee will still be warm at her desk.
Davis gave me shit over at the bar when I ordered a double with oat milk and half a shot of vanilla. When I explained it was for Sydney, he gave me a knowing look and informed me shetakes it with a full shot of vanilla now. He mumbled something about all the women turning the bar into a gourmet coffee place and how he has to keep three different kinds of milk stocked.
I keep my gaze on the monitors, but my whole body is focused on Sydney. She reaches her desk and takes a seat. In my peripheral vision, I see her freeze when she notices the coffee.
I imagine her brow pulled together in a frown as she half gets out of her seat to look around.
“Who put this here?” I hear her say through the glass wall.
It’s only Isla and Charlie in the office, and they both just came out of the meeting.
Sydney’s gaze rests on me, and I keep my expression neutral and my eyes on the screens. I’m glad there’s a glass wall between us, or she’d notice how tense I am.
She huffs and then sits down. I wait for her to drink the coffee, but it stays stubbornly on her desk.
I get up from my post, and without glancing her way, head along the walkway to do my rounds.
When I come back an hour later, Sydney is nowhere to be seen. I walk past her desk, and the coffee is sitting in its mug, untouched. At least she didn’t throw it at me, so that’s a small victory.
The next day I do the same thing. Sydney’s stubborn, but I’m persistent.
This time when I get the coffee from Davis, I also beg a cookie from Maggie. She’s just baked a batch of chocolate chip for the afternoon crowd, and I snag one and put it on a plate for Sydney. She works so hard I never see her eat, and from what I’ve observed, she skips lunch more often than not.
When she comes out of her daily meeting, the coffee and cookie are waiting on her desk. I keep my eyes on the screens, but I feel her gaze sweep over me.
She sits down again, and I get up to do my rounds. When I stroll past the office an hour later, there are lipstick marks on the mug and half the cookie is missing.
I hum to myself as I head to the security room.
