Page 43 of The Long Game

The next day, a huge delivery of orange and pink tulips were delivered to my office.

I grab the card off the desk and read it:

Sorry I came barging in unannounced yesterday. Hope these flowers make your day a little better than yesterday.

Also, sorry I made your dad think you were pregnant. I’m an idiot!

-Sebastian

I look out my window to his office, but he’s not there. I leave the flowers in the spot I think will have the best viewing effect when he returns to his desk.

Since I’m leaving my office for lunch, I tape a sign to the window for him to read when he returns.

Thank you.

Also, You’re Forgiven.

I head down to the cafe a little early to reserve a table for our large group. The restaurant host takes down my name and says it won’t be a problem. She’ll have a couple tables moved together for us.

Today is a beautiful day so I sit out on a park bench in the courtyard between the two office buildings. A newly familiar voice wakes me from my trance.

"I was hoping I’d run into you today. How are you?"

I look up to find Sebastian standing in front of me. The man knows how to wear a pair of slacks, and he has the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, baring his bulging forearms. The clothes fit his body like they’re tailored, but I suspect that’s because the fabric is dying to touch him just as badly as all the women in this courtyard who are currently making eyes at him.

I feel honored to be the one getting his attention.

"Sebastian! I’m good, how are you?"

"Just dealing with tight timelines and a few hundred clients who all think they’re my number one. Somehow, it feels like they all call the same day. It’s job security."

He sits down on the other side of the bench.

"Hey, I hope I didn’t freak you out yesterday. You seemed really upset, and I wasn’t sure how to make you feel better from all the way across the courtyard.. I couldn’t get any work done until I knew you were okay. I kept reading the same damn line over and over on my patent submission. I hope I didn’t overstep."

He seems a little self-conscious as he lays it all out there.

"You didn’t overstep. Us ninth floor, left side corner office people have to stick together," I tease him.

"You know… you’re the only person I wave to across the way. No one else seems to even look out the windows at all. Well, except the guy two floors up from your office. One morning hethought I was waving at him instead of you. He shut his blinds and hasn’t opened them since."

I break out in laughter that I wasn’t expecting.

"And you put in more hours than anyone else I’ve noticed. Beautiful, smart, work-a-holic… you’re quite the catch, Lexi."

My cheeks warm at his compliment.

"Well, I don’t seem to be able to outwork you. Seems no matter how early I get to the office or how late I stay, you’re always beating me to it."

"I’m pleased I’ve been holding your attention enough for you to notice. I was hoping I could convince you to come to an art show this evening. It’s not a formal thing. My client is a little eccentric and paints as a hobby. He holds these pop-up galleries around town in odd locations, parks and street corners. One time he held a showing down an alley by the dumpsters. But collectors are starting to get into his unconforming stance on where art should be enjoyed."

"Oh, is this the show you were telling Sonia about?"

"Yeah, same one. I think she’d really enjoy the artist and his take on unconventional background and lighting for showcasing."

"Seems like you take an interest in learning about what makes people tick."

"That’s what I do for a living. People bring me their vision of how things should be… not how they are now. They offer up their hopes and dreams, and then they ask me to safeguard it for them. I take their trust in me with the utmost seriousness." His intensity has my stomach fluttering. "What makes you tick, Lexi?"

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