Page 108 of Think Outside the Boss

“Yes, a few hours ago. I can come to the bodega on your street, if you’d like.”

Someone screams beside me in post-work bliss and drink, and I hold my hand to my ear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m heading for the exit.”

“You’re at a bar? Oh. The one close to work.”

“Yes, but I’ll be leaving soon.”

“No need, I’m already out. I’ll meet you there.”

“Tristan, I—”

But he’s already hung up.

I stare at the phone in my hand, blindly, wondering if that just happened. But there’s no denying the effect his voice and words have had on me. Adrenaline floods my system and launches me into action.

He’s coming here.

When I return to our table, I reach for the coat hung over the back of my chair. “I’m sorry, guys, truly, but I have to head out.”

“What? Why?”

“We just got here.”

“I know,” I say, “and I’m sorry. But we’ll have other nights. Congrats again, Quentin.”

He gives me a rare smile. “Thank you.”

“And don’t worry, I’ll keep it to myself until it’s official.”

“Thank you. Both of the things I know.”

Toby winks. “And don’t… oh my God. What is he doing here?”

Their eyes are both locked on a point somewhere over my shoulder, and I still, too scared to turn around.

“Frederica,” he says, drowning out the sounds around us. My hands shake as I tie the waistband of my coat. When I turn… there he is, standing in a suit and a navy overcoat, his thick hair dusted with snowflakes. A tan across his skin.

Seeing him feels like coming home, like something clicks inside of me, and I know I’ve made the right decision to stay in New York.

“You came here,” I say.

“I did,” he confirms, looking past me to Toby and Quentin. He gives a single, professional nod in their direction.

“Gentlemen.”

A glance over my shoulder tells me they’re in a complete and utter state of shock.

“I need to speak to Ms. Bilson for a moment,” he says. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He steps aside and motions to the exit, the length and breadth of him easily giving us space in the crowded bar. I wonder who else in here is from the office. Who might be watching.

But I can’t find it in myself to care.

“See you tomorrow,” I tell Toby and Quentin.

“Um, sure. Have fun?”

Tristan holds the front door open for me and we emerge on the busy sidewalk, the cold New York air a comfort to my fevered senses.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he says.

---