Page 41 of Implode

Even though Nic and Tara seem very much done from what I witnessed earlier, I know that there is more to their breakup that I do not know. I can’t blame Nic for keeping his personal life hidden. I also am carrying around the burden of a secret that will end things between us for good. Maybe I’m scared to lose the one man who seems to accept me for me. Maybe I want to preserve the last fraying thread holding him to me before my entire life implodes.

I have perfected the coping strategy of avoidance since I was a teen, so I bury myself in my daily tasks. I pop in my earbuds and take a break in the meditation room—which is easily my favorite place in the whole building. The air still smells of greasy bacon, and while I savored that scent just an hour ago, right now it makes me hold my nose and exit as fast as I can. Ugh. My hypersensitive sense of smell is what really spikes my nausea. Even smells that most people would agree smell good can make me double over with disgust.

* * *

If I was at any other job, I would look like a slacker relaxing on a sofa with a laptop propped up on my legs. However, this is not a normal job. I am thrilled over the work climate that Angie and I have created here. Taking breaks is encouraged. Socializing between departments is almost mandatory. I’ve never felt this safe in a career to be exactly who I am.

I am enough.

I can think freely, brain dump ideas, and never fear that I’m beingtoo much.

Maybe all of my struggles growing up have helped me to appreciate the joys that I have in my life now. You can’t get a rainbow without any rain. I’m excited to see where Angie and I take this adventure. We have some future team-building activities and outings planned to nurture the inclusive environment that we strive to maintain. Happy workers almost always breed organic success.

Around lunchtime, Brenna stops over and drops off a mystery take-out bag on my desk. Without a word of confirmation from her mouth, I know who sent her. Can he be any more transparent?

“What’s this?” I ask, eyeing the paper bag.

“Just thought you would like this,” she says sweetly.

Guilt flows through me that maybe I misjudged her when we first ran into each other on her first day. She may not be so bad. I walk Brenna out of Plus None and am about to head for the restroom when I catch movement from the side hallway.

“Hi Claire,” Dan greets with a huge smile.

“Hey Dan."

Brenna rocks on her heels while twisting her fingers in front of her. “Hi Dan.”

“Hey.” He turns his attention back to me, and I see Brenna deflate. “I was just about to take my lunch break and wanted to know if you wanted to join me. We can try out the new restaurant in the parallel tower that just opened or go somewhere outside. Whichever you prefer.”

My eyes float down to my toes that are peeking through the straps of my sandals.

“I’ll see you both later,” Brenna says quietly. Her voice is shaky and agitated.

I wave at her and then look into Dan’s hopeful eyes. He has sandy-brown hair and dark brown eyes. To most women, he would be considered hot. It’s not that I am immune to his good looks, because I’m not. He’s attractive. It’s just that I know that there is zero point even trying to have a relationship with anyone when I’m toting around a fatherless child. Being a single mom is going to consume my life. I’m not going to have free time, and in my current state, I’m not looking for anything that even resembles a relationship.

He'd have better luck trying to get to know Brenna more. It already appears that she has some natural interest anyway.

“C’mon, Claire. It’s just lunch,” he coaxes. “I won’t even try to hold your hand.”

Just the way he says the last sentence makes me inwardly cringe. Dan chuckles and puts both of his hands in his suit pockets, while leaning against the wall. My stomach growls. I am hungry. However, I don’t need to string someone along just to fulfill a physical need for food. Plus, Brenna just dropped off some type of takeout bag that I assume is from Nic.

“Give me a second,” I mutter, walking back into the office. I open up the paper bag and find a cookie inside that is shaped like lady bits. The pink frosting with the candy pearl embellishment is a detail I would never have thought of if my job was to replicate a vagina using edible ingredients. “Damn.” I guess I deserve this surprise from all the edible cocks I sent him last week. I place the cookie back inside the bag and decide that I will eat the pussy for my dessert. It will be a first. My eyes catch notice of a note at the bottom, and I pull it out to read—“Without doubt, yours tastes better.”

I feel my cheeks heat over the five simple words. Even floors apart, Nic can still make me blush. I get up from my desk and look around the office space. Outside in the hall, I no longer see Dan and figure he got bored waiting for me and left. At least I can avoid some awkwardness of sharing a meal with someone who seems borderline too forward. My stomach growls demanding food, so I have learned to not ignore those signals.

I grab my purse from my desk drawer and exit Plus None. When the elevator arrives, I hop on and make my descent.

The main lobby of HH is full of the hustle and bustle of employees exiting for their lunch break. It is a beautiful spring day in the city. The fresh air is warm and smelling of—

Ugh. Flowers. As soon as the smell hits my nostrils, I instantly feel like the pollen and scent are permanently stuck inside my nose, becoming stronger with each inhale. My stomach churns from the potency of the scent. I walk faster to get away from the bushes that are blooming, and when I finally clear them, I see Dan smiling brightly on the sidewalk just a couple of yards in front of me. Shit.

“Perfect timing,” he says, hope evident in his tone.

His persistence went from being charming to being annoying. I don’t have time to tiptoe around my rejection speech. For someone older than me, he doesn’t really catch on to social etiquette or even cues. I’m either oblivious to my own body language or his special talent is being pushy. I don’t know how to get out of sharing a meal with him without it turning awkward. By the way he is looking at me, I know this is going to feel weird no matter what the outcome.

“Oh hi,” I say, glancing at my phone to appear busy. I inwardly groan when I realize it is upside down. “I was just going to grab a smoothie and then get back to work.”

“I’ll join you.” He follows me into the shop, leaving me no time to protest. He leans in closer to my body and whispers into my ear, “What’s good here?”

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