Page 115 of Off Camera
Stop overthinking it and tell me what you want, Avery. You need to eat.
Me
Thai sounds good.
Reid
Anything in particular?
Me
Surprise me.
Reid
I’ll call when I’m parking.
An hour later, I’m downstairs waiting by the visitor’s entrance when my phone rings.
“Hey,” Reid says, breathless on the other side of the line when I answer.
“Hey. I’m inside. Figured I’d escort you up so you can’t pull a fast one on me and booby trap my office.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Did you only bring food for me?”
“No,” he admits. “I grabbed something for myself, but I figured I’d eat in the car. I don’t want to interrupt your day.”
“Come up. I need a break, and it would be good for me to put my phone down for a minute.”
We end the call and he pulls open the heavy glass door, his hair a little windblown and his cheeks a little red. He makes his way through security screening and spots me, lifting his chin in greeting as he shuffles over with two large plastic bags.
“Are you feeding a small army?” I take the bag from his left hand and head for the elevators. “This looks like one of everything off the menu.”
“It is. If you don’t want to give me detailed instructions, I’m going to interpret it however I see fit.” He fixes his glasses behind his ears. “Whatever we don’t eat, I’ll take around the corner. I saw a guy hanging out with his dog under the overpass, and I figured he might like a hot meal.”
“That’s Larry,” I say. “And his dog’s name is Biscuit.”
“Larry,” Reid repeats with a smile. “You’ve met him before.”
“A few times. He wished me good luck before my interview years ago, and I’ve always tried to check in on him. Biscuit is his best friend, and he loves peanut butter.”
“Does Larry like spicy food?”
“He does. I’m sure he’d be happy with some leftovers.”
“I’ll make sure to visit him after.”
Knowing he has a plan for the extra food makes my skin prickly and warm. It makes my stomach do a summersault and my heart twist in my chest, a dangerous thing.
“That’s nice of you,” I say quietly as we step into the elevator.
“I try to be a nice guy.” Reid shrugs and leans against the wall. He stares at the ceiling before looking at me. “When was the last time you had a real meal?”
“Um.” I pull on the hem of my dress, distracted by his attention. “Dinner last night?”
“That sounds like a question, not an answer.”
