Page 10 of The Relationship Clause

Speaking of afar, Mr. TDC is next, and suddenly, he is front and center in my line of sight. I’m vaguely aware of the motion beside me as Pete and Marlee bring everything for his order to the counter, but other than that, a train could roll through the front window and I wouldn’t notice.

“Good morning, Junie,” he says, eyes burning into my soul.

He used my name. Has he ever done that before? No. If he had, I definitely would have ingrained it into my memory forever. My name sounds almost sensual coming from his lips.

He hands over a card and I take it, glancing down, hoping it has his name on the front, but no. It’s a company card, and I lose interest in it quickly because—hello!—he’s still looking at me like I could be the answer to all his problems.

Or maybe I’m projecting a bit.

I break eye contact and run his card through, then hand it and the receipt back. Our fingers brush, and it’s like the sweetest torture.

“Do you, um, need any help with all that?” I ask. Dang, guess I’m feeling brave this morning.

He gives a small smile as he starts gathering boxes in his arms. “Thanks, but I’ve got it. My building isn’t too far from here.”

It’s not???

But before I can say anything else, he’s gone again, like a freaking genie in a bottle.

“Oooh, shoot,” Marlee says behind me.

Both Pete and I turn to her. She’s standing there with a cup of coffee in her hands, a suspicious look on her face. “Did Owen leave already?”

Owen?! Why the heck is she on a first name basis with Owen? How long has she known his name? Why didn’t I ever think to ask her what it was???

“Yeah, he just left. Why?” Pete asks.

“I forgot one of his drinks.” Marlee hits herself comically on the side of her head. “Silly me. Oh well. I guess someone will have to take him this coffee in person.”

Then she looks at me.

And I look at her.

And now she’s staring at me. Hard.

And I’m staring back at her.

Pete sighs super long and loud. “Junie, will you take that man his poor, forgotten coffee?”

OH!

I practically rip my apron and nametag off and invade all of Marlee’s personal space. “You are a mad genius, and I will never forget what you did here today.” Then, forgetting my non-PDA self, I give her a tight, quick hug and pluck the coffee from her hand.

“Hey, you think she’s the mastermind behind this plan?” Pete says, holding his hands out.

I grin and give him a quick one-armed hug as well. “Thank you! But, um, I don’t know where his office is.”

“I’ve already texted you the address,” Marlee says.

I have so many questions, but asking them would be the equivalent of looking a gift horse in the mouth, so I zip my lips shut.

“Also, here.” Marlee hands me something and I take it, realizing too late what it is: a minty stick of gum. “Just in case,” she whispers, winking at me. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks and practically run out the door. Still, I pop the gum in my mouth because…well, I don’t know why, okay? I just do.

Mr. TDC’s—ahem, I mean, Owen’s—office happens to be two blocks down the road. It’s in a building I’ve passed at least a hundred times before. It looks big, expensive, and impressive, though actually not the biggest building in downtown Greenville by comparison.

I enter the building, and my pulse immediately spikes. I find the elevator and press the button for the sixth floor—because, yes, Marlee’s text even included what floor his office is on.

As soon as the shiny doors close, I immediately start to panic.

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