“Do what?”
“Be nice to him!”
“To the man who saved you?”
“… and Gabriel,”
“What now?”
“It was Gabriel who called me yesterday. He wanted me to come get him. I guess Kaine followed me, which is totally creepy and I haven’t called him on that yet, but anyway, he followed me to the West Bronx. When he realized why I was there, he brought Gabriel home to his apartment and had a doctor and nurse come take care of him. He’s still there now.”
“Ohmygod. You’re going to marry mystery man.”
“What? Shut up. He’s just… doing a good deed so he can get a Boy Scouts medal or whatever.”
“Yeah. You’re pretty stupid for someone so smart.”
I stop her before she takes the conversation down a direction I’m not prepared to go, and take a page out of Kaine’s book.
“SHUSH!!!”
HIM
The morning is so busy that for the first time since Jade entered my life I’m forced to concentrate at work. My office is filled to capacity with people at their workstations and divided into task groups, working together to ensure the successful launch of our new product, FireFree. The marketing department walks us through the final mock-ups of the ads in the interior design magazines, and the retail group finalizes the retail store displays, aimed at dominating the fire and security aisles.
Everything looks as it should. New, modern, state of the art, the future.
By lunchtime, it feels like only minutes have passed, but the rumble in my stomach tells me it’s time to take a break.
“Guys, let’s pick it up in hour, okay? You’ve all been great this morning, but we need to work double speed this afternoon to get everything done by the deadline. Go, lunch is on me at Haughton’s. Jemima’s arranged everything. No alcohol though! Let’s save the champagne popping for when this is all done. See you all after lunch.”
It’d be normal to expect the loud sound of everyone dropping their work to go off and enjoy a free lunch, but I look around, and everyone seems reluctant to stop their work. I can’t help but feel a swelling of pride and gratitude. I’m a tough boss and I expect the best, and they give it to me.
“GO, you workaholics! You’re all even worse than me!” I say, waving my arms out, shooing them. One by one they put down their pens and grab their jackets and drag their feet out to the elevator, as if I’ve condemned them to torture.
Jemima’s the last to go, and I remind her to make sure everyone gets enough to eat, and pack up some extra to bring back for snacks for afternoon break. She nods and squeezes into the elevator and my office floor descends into silence.
Ah, glorious silence.
Most of the time my office is quiet; I don’t like music while I’m working, it affects my mood, and as a rule, I only have workshops for brainstorming and prototype building every second day. The rest is time for me to work in silence, mostly thinking and planning instead of wasting time with administrative duties, which I leave to my deputies.
I crave harmony in my life. It’s why my building is designed the way it is. As if it’s just a part of the skyline, part of the air around it, disruption of nature at a minimum.
But Jade, the entry of Jade in my life has been anything but harmonious. She is a disruption at its very core meaning.
A disruption of my time, my thoughts, my routines, my home life, even the way I dress.
This morning, I thought twice about how I wanted her to see me, choosing my favorite pants, my favorite hoodie.
What an idiot.
Like she even cares.
But she does. Or at least she did in her sleep.
How I wanted to remind her of our kiss last night. To see if she had any recollection, or if it was all in her dreams.
It was certainly in mine.
I look at the clock and wonder what she is doing.
I wander over to my desk and open my browser. I flip it over to my personal wallpaper, and a picture of her fills the screen. It’s a photo from one of her newspaper articles. Her eyes are dancing with light as she faces the camera, so alive, so pure.
It is in stark contrast to the dull, lifeless, worried eyes that weighed on my heart yesterday. Her brother being in trouble, following me yelling and kicking her out of the apartment the night before. No wonder I brought her brother home with us, I’d have done anything to relight the flame in her eyes.
“Enough.” I tell myself. Enough swooning and get back to work.
I turn off the monitor and reach for a folder on my desk.
My hand snaps back when I notice a white envelope laying on my desk.
“To Kaine” is sprawled on the front, in the font that makes my heart stop.
I palm the envelope and part of me wants to just screw it up and burn it. But I know I can’t. For the sake of my company, for the sake of the people I hope to save with my product, I need to know what’s going on.
I slide my finger under the envelope and pull out a single white embossed card.
12:30 p. m., it says. Nothing else.
No description, no date, no location.
There doesn’t need to be. I throw the card down and run over to the marketing work station. There’s a stack of invitation being prepped to send out to local construction companies and real estate corporations as well as local politicians. The front read “Ash Industries welcomes you to the launch of FIREFREE.” I flip it over.
There. Under “Time,” it says, “12:30 p. m.” It’s the same. Exactly the same.
I carry Ash Industries’ invitation back to my desk and hold them side by side, my eyes darting from one to the other, over the identical printed time. How could they replicate it? We haven’t even sent it out yet.
The phone on my desk rings and I throw the cards down, startled. I answer the phone, running my hand through my hair; it comes out damp with sweat.
“What?” I growl into the phone.
“Judging by that greeting, I take it you’ve seen it.”
“The card with the date and time?”
“Yeah.”