Page 42 of Grump and Grumpier

I’m not expecting an answer, so I really feel like an idiot when Jackie says, “It’s the new blonde roast. Everyone’s on a caffeine high.”

Ahh.Suddenly, it all makes sense. The energy, the activity … the arguments. But … “But isn’t everyone herealwayshyped up on caffeine? Aren’t you all used to it?”

“I think everyone’s had an extra cup or two today,” Jackie explains. “And blonde roasts typically have a higher caffeine content. Even those of us with high tolerances are feeling it. A few minutes ago, my heart was skipping around like a kid with a new jump rope.”

All I can do is shake my head and laugh, though as I go back to my office, I’m left wondering if Derekand Jansen’s personalities would be any different if I substituted decaf for their usual high-octane drinks.

Later in the afternoon, I go to the break room to refill my water bottle one last time—notto get another latte—and Owen comes in.

“How’s your day been?” I ask. “Are you as highly caffeinated as everyone else?”

He grins. “Not quite. I used some restraint. How was your time off last week?”

“It was good. Very relaxing.”

“That’s good,” he says. “We missed you, though. Things weren’t quite the same here without you.”

“No?”

He leans back against the counter, assessing me. “You really brighten the place up.” The way he’s smiling at me makes me realize I shouldn’t have encouraged this conversation. His eyes even drop down to my lips once or twice.

“How were your holidays?” I ask.

“They were good. I got to spend time with my family.”

“That must have been nice.”

“It was, except my mom’s always asking when I’m going to bring a girlfriend home with me.”

The fact that he’s flirting couldn’t be more cleareven if a neon sign was flashing the word above his head. On impulse, I decide to ask about the mystery gifts I’ve been receiving.

My water bottle is full, so I straighten the coffee cups and syrups on the shelves to keep busy. “Maybe you can help me with a problem.”

Owen nods, looking eager. “Sure.”

“It’s more of a mystery than a problem. Someone’s been anonymously leaving gifts on my desk every other week or so, and I wish I could figure out who, so I could thank the person.”

He appears genuinely surprised by this information, and so convincingly so, that I’d bet money he’s not the sender of the gifts. Maybe there’s someone I haven't considered?

“Have you asked around the office about the gifts?”

Just as Owen asks the question, and before I have a chance to answer, Derek comes in. “Is something wrong?”

“No, we’re just talking,” Owen says.

Derek doesn’t say anything, but he very pointedly checks his watch before looking back at Owen, making his message clear: you should be working and not standing around talking.

Owen either misses this obvious message or chooses to ignore it. “You’ve got a winner with the new blonde roast,” he tells Derek. “Everyone loves it.”

Derek completely ignores him, turning his back on both of us as he pivots to the coffee machine.

Owen smiles at me and shrugs in a “what can you do” sort of way. He’s so easygoing; the contrast between him and the other man in the room is like night and day. “See you later, Ana.” He gives me a little wave. “If there's some way I can help you with your problem, just let me know.”

As soon as Owen’s out of the room, Derek’s deep voice cuts through the silence. “What problem?”

If he thought my helping Evelyn with a stolen lunch was trivial, there’s no way he’ll want to hear about me spending time trying to track down the source of mystery gifts. “No problem,” I say brightly, and he turns, narrowing his eyes on me, as if trying to figure out what I’m not saying.

He looks like he might press the issue, so before he can say more, I ask, “Any chance you and Jansen might have a few minutes to talk around five? I’d like to go over my goals for the month with you both.”

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