Page 23 of Desk & Deception
By noon, I was already exhausted.
By two, I wanted to crawl under a blanket and sleep for a week.
By four, I was pretty sure my feet were staging a mutiny.
I had never been more relieved than when the director called, “That’s a wrap for the day.”
Somehow, I had made it through what felt like the longest day of my career without completely embarrassing myself.
When I finally headed toward the employee lot, I felt wrung out. I just wanted to go home, shower, and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours. Then hopefully talk myself out of booking a last-minute flight to Toronto to get a hug from Kinsley. It would be fantastic to see my best friend, but I’d only be more exhausted when I went to work on Monday. And probably hungover because we’d gorge ourselves on wine and ice cream, our traditional heartbreak treats.
Then I saw Reid, and my feet slowed automatically. He stood near the edge of the employee lot holding a small cooler. For a moment, I thought I’d finally lost it and was imagining him.
It was barely five o’clock. He should’ve been in his office, buried in work right now. Or sitting in some conference room brokering a deal.
But he was really standing there in a loosened tie with shadows beneath his eyes, looking as exhausted as I felt. Except he didn’t walk toward me. He was waiting…giving me the choice to approach him, even after showing up uninvited.
My pulse started pounding as I moved closer. “What are you doing here?”
A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Not kidnapping you like my Neanderthal side is urging me to do.”
A startled laugh escaped before I could stop it, and his lips curved more.
“Fridays are always awful for you.” He lifted the cooler a little. “My mom made chicken salad.”
“The one with the grapes and pecans?” It had this ridiculous dressing recipe she’d refused to share because apparently she’d “take it to the grave.”
I loved it so much that she’d started setting a container aside for me to take home.
“I remembered it was your favorite,” he continued. “And you have the bad habit of getting too busy and forgetting to eat when you’re on last looks.”
“How did you know?”
My question could’ve been taken a couple of different ways, but he understood what I was asking right away.
“You shared a post one of the actresses made to your stories.”
“Oh. Right.” The day had felt so long, I’d completely forgotten.
Remorse shone from his dark eyes. “And I figured today was probably harder than most since it’s an anniversary I wished didn’t exist.”
One week since we broke up.
My throat tightened as he held out the cooler toward me. I waited for him to press his advantage in some way now that he had my attention. To ask if I’d listened to his messages. If I’d give him a second chance.
But all he said was, “I just wanted to make sure you ate dinner.”
He didn’t crowd my space or reach for me. Just showed up to do something nice for me.
I appreciated that he wasn’t trying to force something I wasn’t ready to give him, so I took the cooler from him, being careful not to brush my fingers against his. “Thank you.”
He dipped his chin. “Have a good night, Lila.”
Then he turned and walked away. And I stood there watching him disappear around the corner, heading toward the visitor’s lot.
I wasn’t ready to examine how seeing him again made me feel, so I turned toward where my car was parked.
“Everything okay?”
