Page 41 of Shades of Grey & Gold

He ends the phone call and slips the phone in his pocket. His eyes are still dark as they search my face, but they soften slightly after a few seconds.

“Sorry, I just…” His fingers are running through his hair lightly and he sighs. “Work calls.”

A laugh escapes my lips as I dramatically look around his office, tilt my whole body to look behind him, and outside of the glass walls to see the whole of the company offices and cubicles. I gesture with my arms all around us.

“Aren’t we at work?”

His arm drops from the doorway, and he closes the space between us. Suddenly, I’m too aware of how stuffy the offices are today, how hot this sweater is and the quiet ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. And even more aware of the clear glass that gives a perfect view of us in this fishbowl to everyone else in the office.

He looks like he has something to say but looks up at the ceiling, then back down at me. The space between us feels charged and my fingers tingle to reach out to him. His expression looks frustrated, but he shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a step backwards out of his office through the doorway.

“I think Peter can handle the Halbrook case,” he says quietly, taking another step backwards.

I frown. This is Callan’s case, we were just strategizing. What changed? Peter can’t take this case because it’s Callan’s case, it’s our case.

“W-what do you mean Peter? This is your case, our case, Cal, why would Peter take the Halbrook case?”

I wipe the frown off my face with my hand and take many quick steps out of his office, brushing past him. Reminding myself that I have no right to ask questions. I have been fine without Callan for years and this shouldn’t make me feel so defeated.

But I do feel defeated. The past few weeks have felt so normal. We fell into step together so easily, so seamlessly two months ago and even more so since the dinners turned into dates. It’s felt right; getting lunch together every day, working to close some of his older cases and just catching up with someone who fit so well in my life before. Who I feel like I fit so well next to now and…

And I really thought he felt the same.

“I’ll let Peter know you didn’t want the case and—”

His hand reaches towards me where I stand at my desk but stops, quickly finding his coat pocket again. His eyes drop to the floor, and he shakes his head, seeming torn.

“No, I just won’t be here to see it through. Max, I do want to work the case, especially with you, please don’t take it any other way.” His voice trails off, and he looks around again. “I just don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“It’s fine, we can keep going on Monday if you need the weekend,” I heave a relieved sigh and smile too widely but when I meet his eyes, they’re not smiling back. “Or… if you’re going on a full week-long vacay we can start Friday? I can start pulling information for…”

My voice trails off when he stiffens and his eyes fill with something like… sympathy. Or sadness?

“I won’t be back in time to take the case. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he repeats it again, sounding as frustrated as he looks.

He looks like he’s cataloging every feature of my face as his eyes bounce from my eyes then down to my mouth, then back up again. Like he’s tracing every line.

I let out a small laugh, feeling confused and self-conscious.

“What do you mean? Were you gone so long I missed the part of your life when you joined the FBI and became a secret agent? Do you go out on a mission every couple months for long periods of time?”

He looks at his watch, lets out a small laugh, or maybe it’s a scoff.

“I have to go, Max. I’m so, so sorry.”

His eyes find mine, and they beg me to accept that apology. Before I can consider what he said, his feet are already moving. I follow after him and he stops to lean into the doorway of Richard’s office. I see Richard look up from his desk.

“I got a call,” Callan says quickly from across the space of the office and then, without even waiting for a response, slaps the doorway and turns to walk out the door.

Richard just looks down at his computer, takes a big enough breath I see his shoulders rise and fall, and shakes his head. Something inside me bubbles. Curiosity. Confusion. But I’m mostly just nosy and want to understand what the fuck is going on.

How does that work? ‘I got a call.’ And he just walks out? Richard doesn’t even ask why or where he’s going and Cal doesn’t even know when he will be back?

I knock on the open door to Richard’s office, and he looks up with a small smile.

“Max, what can I do for you?” He leans back in his chair and pulls his glasses from his nose, setting them gently on the desk.

His office is full of dark greens and tan leather. His desk is black, with a glass top, framed by two enormous sitting chairs in front of it.