Page 37 of Time Stops With You

Silence stretches between us. True to his word, he doesn’t speak to me, look at me, or even walk that close to me as we make our way to my car. If anything, he seems to forget I’m even there.

I’m in front of my vehicle in no time. “This is it.”

Cullen releases a quiet breath, his lashes fluttering over those moonlight blue eyes. “Thank you.”

“I did absolutely nothing.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it. Stepping back, he gestures awkwardly to the car. I debate whether or not I should say something polite and then I think better of it. We don’t have the kind of relationship that requires small talk and he doesn’t seem like the type who’d appreciate it anyway.

On the drive to work, I get a call from my manager asking for a missing file. I walk him through the process and he, once again, asks when I’ll be there. From the sound of his voice, it’s utter chaos in the office.

I’m proven right when I step into the room filled with tiny cubicles and see everyone running up and down.

“Nardi!Thereyou are.” My supervisor, a frantic woman who always has several pencils and pens stuck in her hair, grabs my hand. “Our company was just featured on a nationally syndicated program and the phones are ringing off the hook. We need all hands on deck. HR is sending all our people downstairs to help with the overflow.”

I hurry behind her to the elevator and spend the next three hours on the phone along with the customer satisfaction team.

By the end of the night, my throat is sore and I’m pretty sure I’m suffering from finger spasms.

Weary and extremely hungry, I return to my desk and call Josiah.

“Have you done your homework?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“And did you warm up the pizza?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly.

I open the drawer where I keep my heels, switch out my slides for the uncomfortable stilettos. “Did anyone call the house or knock on the door?”

“No.”

“Did you get any weird texts?”

“Mr. Cullen isn’t a creep who’s going to kidnap me, Nardi.”

“I never said that,” I mumble guiltily.

Josiah makes an impatient sound. “Can I go now?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m working.”

“Working?” My eyes bug.

“I’m coding an app on my phone.”

“What kind of app?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, but I’d still like to know.” I pause. “Is it for Mr. Cullen?”

Josiah’s long, long silence screams his guilt.

I rub the bridge of my nose. “I don’t want you to do anything with Cullen Tech.”

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