Page 30 of I Hope This Finds You Well

I quickly add the passwords to the Post-it note, while glancing from side to side to make sure no one sees. Not all spies get the glamour of one Jean Adler heavy breathing outside Gregory’s office while wiping dandruff from his glasses.

“Hello again, everyone.”

I nearly vault out of my seat from shock, half shoving the Post-itunder my keyboard. Cliff is striding around the corner with a familiar yellow box in his hands. He’s wearing a blue plaid shirt that looks really soft. His smile is not quite bright enough to counter the furrowed brows and frowns he’s getting in return. “I brought some mini donuts from my favorite place,” he proclaims.

Crickets in response.

Cliff’s smile is hesitant and small. “Just wanted to say hi again. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all.”

A message flashes on my screen, from Caitlin to Garret:

Please lord, let me hold my cringe.

“I’ll just leave them over here.” Cliff’s voice loses its spark with each word. His shoulders round as he places the box on the communal table near the pods.

Finally, Caitlin breaks the silence. “You got us little donuts, aww! You’re so sweet.”

Cliff looks up sharply, clearly delighted. Too bad. I thought he might be beyond falling for Caitlin’s fake bullshit.

“I hope you enjoy them.” He tilts his chin toward the name plaque on her cubicle. “Caitlin, is it? Glad to meet you.” Then he raises his voice a little and turns in a half circle so he’s not got his back to anyone. “I’m going to be booking meetings with each of you over the next week. I just want to get to know more about you and your roles here. It’s really an open mic for you to share anything.” At the blank stares, he clears his throat. “So, just wanted to come by again, so you know the meeting request isn’t spam or anything bad.” He points to himself. “I’m a real guy on the fourth floor and my door is always open.”

Expressionless sets of eyeballs, including my own, peer at him like emojis.

“And these donuts are real too,” he adds. His chuckle mixes with the sound of keyboards frantically typing—and so the gossip mill begins. I feel pain in an unknown part of my body on his behalf. But then Cliff locks eyes with me and his expression brightens. “Jolene, hey!”

All my pity for him vanishes in an instant.

I catch Caitlin smirking, and she shifts her gaze from Cliff to me. My skin tightens as more eyes tilt in my direction.

I give Cliff a small, curt nod. I can’t even muster a smile. He doesn’t seem to register the vibes I’m giving off, because he makes his way to my desk and leans an arm against my cubicle wall. The sweet scent that permeated his office has followed him here, and everything in me seems to liquefy.

“Can you meet me by my office after work? We can take the parkade elevator from there.”

A nod is all I can muster as I sink farther in my chair, willing it to absorb me like another random mucus stain. Cliff should know that you don’t give the fucking vultures anything while you’re in the ring. At best, he’s reminded everyone that we know each other because of my mandatory training. But atworst...The last thing I need is my fellow professionals picturing me having sex, which is a thing people do when they think two people are dating.

Then he leans over a touch more into my cube’s space and points a finger toward my desk. “Hey, can I have that Post-it?”

My stomach nearly drops onto the carpet. My head whips toward my keyboard, where the incriminating yellow paper I’d shoved under it is poking out.

Then I realize Cliff’s finger is actually pointing at the block of unused notes. I shove the whole thing toward him, too relieved to trust myself to speak. He takes a piece from the top as well as the pen that had nearly rolled off the corner of my desk and holds them up to my cube wall so he can scribble a quick note.

“Well, it was nice to see you all,” he announces to the room. “I’ll go back to my cave now.” He holds his head high, but his shoulders have a slump to them as he walks over to the donut box and presses the note on top of it.

More crickets as he disappears down the hallway, the blue jeans schedule sheet on the bulletin board flapping in his wake.

A split second after he’s cleared the room, it’s like someone’s hit the on button. Chairs push back, footsteps descend upon the box. Rhonda,Armin, and Caitlin are the first to arrive on the scene, pulling the lid back and tearing into the little gourmet treats.

Heat burns through my stomach as I watch them pick the box clean like hyenas. Jean Adler scrunches his face so close to the box that I’m sure there’s a powdered dandruff flavor being made before our eyes.

“These are from that new place,” Armin says as he pops one in his mouth. “I’m not saying they’re good, but I’ve just found the will to live.”

Caitlin places a hand on his shoulder. “You have to stop pulling all-nighters. You’re too old to be gaming like that.”

He blinks through his puffed eyes. “I wasn’t online last night.”

“Has he booked a meeting with you yet?” Marla asks Caitlin.

Caitlin huffs. “Not yet, but I’ve got plenty to say.” The insistent way Caitlin glances at Armin makes acid burn in my stomach. But both their gazes draw to me too quick. I drop my eyes, but not in time.