Page 8 of Found By Him

I glance at the wall clock, noting I have a meeting in thirty minutes. “No, but it’s fine. I can grab some peanut butter crackers or something.” Mark provides the staff with a snack basket that’s refilled nightly. It’s a nice perk on days like today. “Sorry, you didn’t call to listen to me whine about lunch. I knew about some of the issues before the accident, so just let your mechanic know not to worry about it. I will get everything fixed, eventually.”

“But it isn’t safe,” Jack argues.

“I mean, it’s safe-ish,” I counter with a shrug he can’t see. “It’s a lot to fix, and I was trying to do it one thing at a time because it’s expensive. If you want to have your mechanic provide me with a list, I’ll make sure I start getting those repairs once I have my car back.”

Jack sighs again as muffled voices filter through my phone. “Look, I have to go. We can talk about this later.”

He hangs up, and I pull the phone away from my ear. With a pinched brow, I stare down at it as if it can answer all my questions about what he meant when he said we would talk about it later.

A smile pulls at my lips at his bossiness.

6

Ella

Forty minutes after I get off the phone with Jack, I’m rubbing my forehead in frustration. Craig sent me the wrong report for an important meeting with Mark and the rest of the finance department, and I’m desperately trying to locate where the correct one was saved. Craig left for an unplanned appointment when I returned to my office with my makeshift lunch of peanut butter crackers. Part of me is relieved he’s gone, but another part is concerned about why he would unexpectedly head out after what he saw on my desk earlier today.

“Gisella Easton?”

I look up from my computer to find a delivery man with a uniform shirt indicating he’s from a nearby local deli. Maggie, the office manager, follows close behind as she points in my direction. “Uh, yes?”

“I have a lunch delivery for you,” the man announces.

“But I didn’t order lunch…” I tell him, head tilting as I take in the situation.

“Ella, I told him he could leave it with me, but he insisted,” Maggie says, then throws the man an annoyed look.

“Look, I was told if I delivered this personally, I would get a huge tip. So here I am, delivering this personally.” He steps into my office and hands me the bag and a bottle of water.

I smile at the man. “Okay, well, thank you so much for delivering this.”

He nods and starts walking away before turning back to me. “The guy who ordered put a note inside.” A big, knowing smile stretches across his face.

Maggie winks at me as I fight the blush burning my cheeks, before leaving me with, “We should get drinks so you can tell me all about this lunch man.”

I laugh as I watch them walk back toward the front of the office. Once they’re out of sight, I open the bag. Curiosity is getting the best of me, and I want to find the note. Inside the bag is a wrapped sandwich, a little container of pasta salad, a pickle, and a cookie. Bewilderment floods me. The only person who knew about my lunch was Jack.

But he wouldn’t have sent me lunch, would he?

“Ella.” Mark’s stern voice from my doorway makes me jump. “Do you have that report?”

I quickly put the bag aside. “Sorry, Mark. I’m still looking for where Craig has those saved.”

Mark gives me a terse nod and returns to the conference room.

I turn back to my computer monitor. A noise of celebration escapes me when I open a folder and find the report. I quickly jot down the file path so this doesn’t happen againwhile printing off enough copies for everyone in the meeting.

I’m relieved when the rest of the meeting goes off without any further complications. Generally, this meeting is led by Craig, but this isn’t the first time he’s been unavailable and I had to step in for him.

Returning to my office following the meeting, I grab the bag from under my desk. The crackers were definitely not enough, so now I’m starving. As I pull out each item, my stomach growls in response. It all looks delicious. Lastly, I take out a fork and a napkin. But I don’t see the note. Looking into the bag once more, I spot a folded-up receipt caught in the bottom of the bag. Thick, bold writing lines the small piece of paper.

Gisella,

I didn’t know what you liked so I hope this is okay.

Jack

Chalkingit up to my stressful day, I’m overcome with gratitude at the thoughtfulness. Those butterflies are back again. Pulling out my phone, I’m surprised not to have a text from Jack.

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