Page 13 of True Sight
A small yip comes from my feet, causing me to jump and look towards the sound only to find Annie and her plush alligator toy staring back at me.
“Yeah, I know it looks like I have a stick up my ass. I’m working on it. That’s why you’re here, remember?”Hanna’s gonna love this.
Stuffing my backpack with my laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, I throw it over my shoulder and start to head for the door. Annie, always quick under my feet, sticks close and tries to follow me out when I open the door. Not having time for a game of chase, I grab her by the collar and gently push her back inside.
“No, it’s not time for a walk. You stay here, I’ll be back later. Go lay down or something.” She looks up at me with wide eyes and I try to ignore how cute she looks. I take a step out of my front door quickly and close it behind me, mentally crossing my fingers that everything will be okay when I return.
As I walk down the street and the sun hits my eyes, my head starts to throb the tiniest bit. Bringing my hand up as a shield, the spot where my head collided with the guy who wasn’t paying attention yesterday aches. I can’t believe someone can be so self-centered and so into themselves that they just run into another person like that. And then to tell me that I need to stand up straight or I’ll get a hunch? I mean, who the hell says that to another person? My neck starts to get warm as I remember the interaction and theway his green eyes scanned my body after we ran into one another.Fucking prick.
Having reached the coffee shop, I pull my phone out and open my email. Henry had sent me a message this morning letting me know he would be sitting in the back corner table and to come find him when I got there. Quickly ordering a large black coffee, I take my drink and head towards where I assume I’ll find him. As I approach the table, I see someone familiar already sitting there.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He sees me coming and looks up, taking his headphones off his head and slowly sets them on the bench beside him. He squints at me, nearly glaring, and blinks a few times.
“I see you haven’t taken my advice about your posture,” he quips, his British accent coming out thick. “Look, I don’t have time for another verbal sparring match, I’m meeting someone, maybe another time though.”
“Are you Henry?” My voice drones.
“Yes, why are you—oh.” When the realization hits him, his face falls and his voice becomes small. His eyes flick towards his computer and he pushes his lips out, making himself look like a duck suffering from constipation. My lips pull into a line as an uncomfortable energy settles between us. Quickly standing from the table, he shimmies his shoulders and takes a deep breath before plastering a smile on his face and extending his hand towards me.
I glance at it, then back at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m starting over,” he says confidently, still smiling at me like a maniac. Who the hell smiles this much? And why are his teeth so annoyingly straight?
“Starting over?” I asked indignantly.
“Yes, starting over. It’s something I do. Whenever something is hard or challenging, or in our case incrediblyawkward, I start over. It’s like a fresh start to try again when things didn’t work out the first time.”
Glaring at his hand again, I realize the kind of person I’m going to be working with. He’s the kind of person who’s favorite motto is probably ‘look on the bright side’ and more than likely has motivational posters hung on his wall. The kind of person who is always happy and acts like they have an entire rainbow shoved up their ass. The way he’s looking at me reminds me of Bailey on a frighteningly high level. Knowing that we will be working together over the next several months, I decide to play along.
“Fine, we can start over,” I agree and take his hand in mine to shake. When I do, my fingers react as if I just touched a hot stove and I pull my hand back immediately.
“You okay?” he asks, raising a brow at me.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get started.”
Over the next three hours, Henry and I walk through every part of his project and what he’s looking for. What he wants isn’t necessarily complicated but it will be time intensive. It’ll take me the next three months to get everything he’s looking for up and running which is perfect timing as he’s predicting the studio will open in January. We talk about timeline, budget, features, soft launch dates, and everything in between before finally wrapping up just after lunch.
“Do you want some lunch? On me, please,” he offers, sliding his computer into his bag. When he smiles, his jaw flexes, making the sharp edges of it more defined.
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to get home and let my dog out.” The words feel foreign as I say them but what feels stranger is knowing that someone is at home waiting for me. Sure it might be my dog, but I haven’t had anyone waiting up for me in almost ten years. It feels odd, butcomforting, knowing I’m not going home to an empty house.
“You have a dog? That’s nice, I’ve always wanted a dog,” he exclaims as we stand from the table. He runs a hand through his warm brown hair and slings his backpack over his shoulder.
“That’s funny, I never wanted one,” I scoff.
“Then why’d you get one?”
I look at him for a beat before answering. “It was kind of a last minute decision,” I lie.
“Maybe I could meet them one day?” It’s a question, as if he’s asking me instead of making a suggestion. I hope he doesn’t think we’re friends because we are definitelynotfriends. I have all the friends I need.
“Uhh, sure. Maybe,” I reply, not wanting to be rude. We make our way out of the coffee shop and are standing in almost the exact same spot we had run into one another yesterday. Unsure of what to say, I simply wave and start towards my apartment.
“Hey, Conrad?” I turn and find him rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.
“Yeah?”
