Page 7 of Love From the Ashes

“Why?”

Mr. Morgan stared at me with the most incredulous look on his face. I silently chuckled. It seemed he wasn’t used to people turning him down.

“Is it solely me you find so disagreeable, or are you always this cynical?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply trying to enjoy a quiet lunch by myself. Is that a problem?”

“Of course not, Ms. Fletcher.” Mr. Morgan opened his mouth to say something else and then closed it, apparently changing his mind.

One of the café employees came to the table, effectively ending our awkward moment. She placed a tray in front of me containing my sandwich and picked up my numbered stand. She turned to walk away, her eyes blatantly raking Mr. Morgan from head to foot, an appreciative smile spreading across her face.

He ignored her and turned back to face me, interrupted for a second time when Krista called out his name.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” Krista said, reaching the table. She smiled at Mr. Morgan and ignored me as if I didn’t exist. “I had a couple of ideas I wanted to bounce off you. Could we discuss it during lunch since we’re both here?”

“Sure,” Mr. Morgan said. He turned and looked at me. “Maybe we can try this another time Ms. Fletcher.”

“Or not.” I gave Mr. Morgan an exaggeratedly sweet smile.

An amused grin lit up his face, and he shook his head. “You certainly are blunt and one of a kind. Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Fletcher.” He turned to walk away and nearly ran over the café employee standing there with his lunch tray in her hand. He took the tray and handed her his stand. Then he walked away, Krista following him toward a table against the wall.

The café employee stood there for a second, gazing hungrily at Mr. Morgan’s backside.

I frowned, her ogling bothering me for some odd reason. Shrugging it off, I got up to fill my cup. I had just set it under the ice dispenser when Mr. Morgan walked up next to me. I pushed the button for the ice, and the chunks launched from the machine like a rocket, knocking my cup over. Mr. Morgan and I both reached for my cup, his hand landing on mine. I nervously looked up, meeting his gray-blue gaze.

“Let me help you with that,” Mr. Morgan said, pulling his hand away.

“I’ve got it, thank you.” I silently filled my cup with water and walked back to my table, sensing a pair of eyes on my back. I stared out the window as I ate my lunch, mindlessly watching the scores of people in the courtyard. A string of fragmented thoughts came and went as I sat there, shifting from wondering what they’d have for dinner at the shelter tonight and when I’d get a new roommate to visualizing the work sitting on my desk and analyzing how long it would take for me to get back on my feet. Through it all, I was more than aware of my mythical Norse god sitting at the table against the wall. At one point, I even wondered if I should have let him join me. Then I scoffed at my ridiculousness at entertaining the thought.

Finished with my lunch, I headed back to the office. I hadn’t been at my desk long when I heard a sound and looked up. Della was standing at my counter, looking puzzled.

“Adam and I looked for you at lunch. Where did you go?” Della said.

“I went to the café and bakery next to the courtyard. I needed a change of pace from my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“I don’t blame you. I couldn’t eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day. But that’s me. Anyway, Adam and I are going to see a movie tonight, and you’re welcome to join us. It’ll be fun. We’re going to seePrey. It’s an action thriller that’s supposed to be a prequel to that old moviePredator.”

“I’ll pass, but thanks for the invitation. I need to take care of a couple of things after work.” I felt terrible fibbing like that, but I didn’t want to hang out with them after work. Their presence during the day was more than enough, and I preferred to keep any socializing with my coworkers to a minimum. There were fewer issues that way.

“No problem. Next time, then.” Della seemed to skip away, her demeanor easygoing as usual.

I returned to my project, which entailed reorganizing the files in the cabinet behind my desk. After Chad and I had spent a solid hour trying to find a document he was looking for yesterday, we realized the label on its folder made no sense. Although she had meticulously created the SOP binder, Trudy’s filing system was sorely lacking. I wanted to change it so staff could easily find the documents they needed.

Glancing at the clock a while later, I was surprised to see the time, the afternoon flying by. I’d spent the last several hours laboring on my project, but it was only partially complete. I’d have to finish it on Monday since it was five o’clock and time for me to go home. I shut down my computer and grabbed my belongings, heading out the office door a minute later.

I was watching the traffic go by while I waited for my bus at the stop across the street when I noticed a black Mercedes drive past. The man in the back seat made eye contact with me. It was Mr. Morgan.

The car made a sudden and seemingly unplanned left turn and disappeared around the corner. Surprised by the driver’s careless maneuver, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. I shrugged and turned my attention to the bus, which had stopped at the light. The signal turned green, and the bus came through the intersection and pulled up to the curb. Then I saw the black Mercedes behind it, the driver circling the block and now pulling over.

Was Mr. Morgan looking for me? If so, why? I couldn’t imagine any reason he’d have to talk to me. Unwilling to find out if I was his target, I dashed to the door of the bus and hurriedly climbed the steps. Taking a seat in the back, I looked out the window as the bus pulled away from the curb. Mr. Morgan had exited the car and was standing on the sidewalk, staring at the departing bus. I leaned back, feeling confused and relieved, his curious action far too close for comfort.

CHAPTER 4

Moving Forward

Itook anotherbite of my oatmeal, enjoying the early-morning quiet of the dining room at the women’s shelter. I usually came here before everyone else, wanting to have my breakfast and leave before most residents came downstairs. I needed to catch my bus in a half hour, preferring to get to work a little early. The next scheduled bus would get me to work right on time but leave no room for mishaps. And getting to work late wasn’t an option, especially since Krista seemed to be keeping her eye on me. Hearing the click-clack of heels on the tile floor, I looked up and spotted Ms. Walker in the doorway.

“Good morning, Sofie. Could you please see me in my office after you finish your breakfast?” Ms. Walker said.

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