He Looked Back

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He Looked Back Page 2

by Hollandaise, Melissa


  "Oh." I nod.

  "Well, have a nice night," he says, smiling at me once again.

  "You, too."

  He turns and walks toward the door across the hall from me.

  "Wait," I say, furrowing my brow.

  George turns and looks at me expectantly.

  "You're friends with Dylan?" I ask.

  George nods. "Yep," he says. "You've met him?"

  "Unfortunately," I say and George laughs.

  "Oh, he gave you a hard time?"

  "No, he was just really, really rude. So yeah, I guess he actually did." I shift the grocery bags in my arms and laugh lightly.

  "That's Dylan," George says, chuckling. He says it so lightly, so easily. I wonder if Dylan was as rude to him when they met as he was (and still is) to me now.

  Suddenly, the door to Dylan's apartment opens, and he steps out. He wears a t-shirt and the same dark jeans and boots.

  "What the hell is the hold up?" He snaps at George and then looks at me. He doesn't say anything to me.

  "Nothing, just helping Katie with her keys," George replies, unaffected by Dylan's rudeness.

  "Well, hurry up," Dylan grumbles. "We have work to do."

  "All right," George says. "It was nice meeting you, Katie," he says to me and smiles again.

  "You, too," I say, eyeing Dylan. Dylan rolls his eyes at our friendly exchange and slams the door as soon as George enters his apartment.

  It continues to baffle me how Dylan is so rude. How could he have a friend like George, who seems so kind and friendly?

  I unload my groceries, still annoyed at Dylan's behavior. What did I ever do to him that made him want to be so vicious?

  Chapter Three

  My alarm blares at seven a.m., scaring the living shit out of me.

  I knock the beeping clock to the floor, a groan escaping my lips. It takes me a good two minutes to realize it's Monday morning, the day I begin my new job.

  I leap out of bed, rushing into the bathroom. I shower quickly and dry my hair, letting it fall in loose chestnut waves past my shoulders. I put eyeliner and mascara on my eyes, trying to make myself look professional and slightly classy.

  I go to my closet and pull on a white blouse and a black skirt along with black pumps. I stare at myself in the mirror and take a few deep breaths.

  "You cannot screw this up," I say to my reflection.

  After a short pep talk, I grab my bag and lock my door behind me.

  On the way out of the building, I pass Dylan's door. I scowl and push him away from my mind. Just because I have a rude neighbor doesn't mean I'll have to interact with him. That is, unless my noise level isn't as low as he pleases.

  I get into my car, the cool Edinburgh air making me shiver a bit. Even though it's mid September, temperatures are already dropping. Not that I mind too much, anyway. I love cold weather.

  The drive is short to Chronicle Publishing, thanks to my apartment only being a few blocks away. I mentally thank James for the thousandth time for helping me pick out such a fantastically located place.

  I park my car accordingly and walk into the sleek glass building. I take the elevator to the sixth floor and walk into a spacious office, stopping at the reception desk.

  A brown haired woman with shocking blue eyes smiles at me from the desk.

  "Good morning, Miss Harris," she says, nodding a bit.

  "Hi," I greet her. The plaque on her desk reads "Caitlin Clarke."

  She smiles at me. "I'll let Mr. Morris know you're here." She picks up her phone and presses a few buttons, speaking my name into the receiver before hanging up. She hands me a manila folder. "Mr. Morris put aside this manuscript the other day for you to start when you arrived." I take the folder into my arms, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face.

  This is it. This is really happening.

  A few moments later, a distinguished man with glasses and dark hair walks up to me, sticking out his hand for me to shake.

  "Katie Harris, nice to see you," he says as I shake his hand. "I'm Dan Morris, COO."

  I nod. I hadn't realized he was ranked so high in the company. To think I'll be working directly for the COO almost makes me dizzy.

  "I'll show you to your workspace," he says. I nod again and follow him across the office to the back corner, facing a wall of windows.

  "Over there is accounting," Mr. Morris says. "Your desk is bordering where accounting works. Next to accounting is HR..."

  He goes on and I nod politely. He finally finishes talking and smiles at me. "You will be expected to read four to five manuscripts a week. I know it sounds like a lot, but judging by your resume, you should be up to the challenge. Your first paycheck will arrive to your residence on Sunday. I look forward to seeing your work in copy editing, Miss Harris," he says as I set my things down on my desk.

  "Call me Katie," I direct him.

  He nods and smiles. "Of course." He turns slightly. "If you need anything, my office is past accounting, over there." He points to a rather large office off to the side. "My phone extension is 783."

  "Thank you," I say.

  He nods again before walking past accounting and into his office.

  I sit down at my desk and begin arranging my things. I pull my laptop out of my bag and set it on my desk, taking this opportunity to look at the other people at my desk cluster.

  Sitting at a desk across from mine is a boy of about my age, his features slightly dark. His olive skin looks flawless and I see some tattoos peek out from under his blue dress shirt. His dark hair is styled up and his deep brown eyes are cast down, skimming a manuscript.

  I clear my throat slightly and he looks up, his chocolate colored eyes locking with mine. He smiles kindly at me.

  "Hi," he says. "You must be new."

  I nod. "I'm Katie," I tell him.

  "Oliver," he says. "Welcome to our desk cluster."

  I smile. "Thanks."

  He leans forward on his desk. "See that guy over there?" He asks, nodding toward a man with chestnut hair. "That's Phil. He's the comic relief around here."

  "Really."

  "Oh, yeah. He does the best impressions of everyone around the office. Over there," he goes on, gesturing toward a girl with dark blonde hair. "That's Lana. She types ninety a minute."

  "Wow."

  "Yep. If you need anything typed fast, ask her."

  The desks are arranged so to my right is accounting, and across from me is Oliver. I face the wall of windows, with Phil sitting to my side and Lana diagonal from me. There's a small isle between Phil and my desks.

  "Guys," Oliver says. Lana and Phil look up at us. Lana's lips form a friendly smile and Phil nods. "This is Katie."

  "Hi," Lana says. "You new?"

  I nod, smiling. "Hi."

  "Nice to meet you," Phil says.

  "You should begin working on her impression," Oliver says.

  "Will do," Phil says, leaning back in his chair and clicking his pen. "So where are you from?"

  "London," I tell him.

  "So am I," Lana says. "Why'd you move?"

  "Change of scenery," I answer.

  "Ah," she says. "I moved for the proximity to the Pacific. Only an hour and a half away is the coast, you know."

  "Wow," I say.

  "Wow," Phil says, his tone matching mine almost perfectly.

  I stare at him in shock and Lana and Oliver laugh. "That was really good," I compliment him.

  "You should hear his impression of Caitlin," Lana says. "That is true comedy."

  Phil clears his throat and picks up his phone. "Chronicle Publishing, this is Caitlin."

  We all stifle giggles as Caitlin looks up from her desk and sends Phil a glare. Phil only puts down the phone and winks at her. She rolls her eyes and turns back to her computer.

  "Phil's been chasing after Caitlin for two years now," Oliver says to me.

  "Not true," Phil says.

  "It's true," Lana says, nodding.

  Phil rolls h
is eyes. "If you all don't mind, I have a big ass manuscript to edit. Four hundred pages."

  "That's nothing," Lana retorts. "I've got six hundred."

  Oliver leans forward on his desk again. "We border accounting," he tells me as Lana and Phil return to work.

  I laugh. "You talk about the different parts of the company like they're clans."

  Oliver smirks. "Oh, but they are." He clicks a pen in his hand. "Across the way from you is Rachel. She can do mental math faster than Lana types on a computer."

  Lana looks up. "Not true," she says. "I type ninety."

  Oliver ignores her. "Next to Rachel is Arnold. He doesn't talk much."

  I nod as he goes on.

  "Across from Arnold is Mike. He can fit twenty five peanut M&M's in his mouth at once."

  "Really," I say. "That's quite the accomplishment."

  "Yeah," Oliver says. "At lunch, he's going to try to break the record and fit thirty."

  "Wow," I say.

  I notice an empty desk diagonal across the way from me. "Who sits there?" I ask.

  Oliver rolls his eyes, smirking. "Late, as usual. Don't worry about him."

  I nod. "All right."

  "We only have three HR executives. Sarah, Nicole, and Jeff," Oliver says, gesturing to the HR section of the office. Sarah has bright blonde hair pulled into a ponytail that twirls around her finger as she talks on the phone. Nicole has red hair that falls in loose waves around her shoulders while she scribbles onto a form. Jeff spins around in his chair, obviously distracted from his work.

  "Oliver's been chasing after Sarah for six months," Phil says, his voice sounding identical to Oliver's.

  I stifle a laugh as Oliver's cheeks turn pink. He doesn't deny anything.

  "And the rest of the editors," Oliver goes on, ignoring the comment, turning to point past Lana and Phil. "Ryan, Jade, Jon and Maria."

  Ryan throws a rubber band ball into the air and catches it, chewing a wad of gum in his mouth. Jade has dark blue hair that is twisted into a bun on her head as she flips through a manuscript. Jon clicks and surfs on his computer, neglecting the manuscript on his desk. Finally, Maria writes lazily on a piece of paper, her eyes flicking back and forth to a manuscript.

  "And that's all you really need to know, newbie," Oliver says, winking.

  "Thanks," I say. "I appreciate it."

  "No problem. Lunch break's at one, if you want to watch Mike stuff an unhealthy amount of M&M's into his mouth."

  I laugh. "Sounds great."

  Oliver smiles at me again before we both focus on our work. I open the manila folder with my first manuscript in it, excitement bubbling up inside of me. I begin to read, clicking open my editing pen.

  About an hour later, I hear rustling and commotion happening by my desk. I look up and freeze.

  Chapter Four

  None other than my irritable neighbor Dylan drops his things onto his desk that is immediately diagonal from mine. He sets a coffee cup down and runs a hand through his hair, sighing. He doesn't seem to notice me.

  Mr. Morris steps out of his office, a stern look on his face.

  "Wilson," he says as he walks up to Dylan. "You're late. Again."

  "So?" Dylan asks, plopping into his seat.

  "So, that's the fourth time this month. You'd better shape up or we'll be shopping for a new accountant soon," Mr. Morris snaps.

  Dylan rolls his eyes. "You can say all you want, but we both know I'm the best accountant here."

  "I can still fire you," Mr. Morris warns.

  "Alright, well when you get the balls to actually let me go, give me a call," Dylan says. He smirks and Rachel covers her mouth with her hand.

  "Oooh," Arnold says.

  Everyone seems to stifle a laugh as Dylan leans back in his seat triumphantly.

  Mr. Morris crosses his arms over his chest. "Watch it, Wilson," he says through gritted teeth before turning on his heel and stalking back to his office.

  "Good one," Oliver says to Dylan, chuckling. Dylan smirks. His eyes land on me and his face quickly shifts to an annoyed expression.

  "Hi," I say, trying to sound friendly.

  Dylan locks his jaw. "Newbie, huh?" He asks Oliver, his eyes still on me.

  Oliver nods. "This is Katie."

  "I know," Dylan says coldly. "We've met."

  Oliver shifts his vision from Dylan to me and back. He finally shrugs and turns in his chair to look at Sarah.

  I nod, quickly returning my attention to my manuscript. Why, of all places, must we work at the same one?

  I hear him spinning in his chair and clicking his pen. Shouldn't he be working, at least? If he's so good at his job, why isn't he working?

  I have trouble concentrating on my work after that. How can Dylan be so rude to everyone? His boss, who also happens to be the COO, threatened to fire him and he responded by insulting him. How much nerve does he honestly have?

  Lunch rolls around and I follow Oliver to the break room.

  He introduces me to everyone and goes to stand by Sarah. She smiles at us.

  "Nice to meet you," she says. "Welcome to Crane."

  "Thanks," I say. We chat for awhile longer as we eat lunch. I catch the lingering looks Oliver gives Sarah, trying to hide a smile.

  About fifteen minutes into lunch hour, Dylan slides into the seat across from me, next to Oliver.

  I shoot him a glare. I'm done trying to be nice to him when all I get in return is rudeness. He doesn't notice my death look as he begins chatting with Oliver.

  Lana sits by Sarah and I, joining the conversation.

  "I hear Phil's going to ask out Caitlin," Sarah says.

  "No way," Lana gasps.

  "Yes way. Rachel told me."

  I eat my salad quietly as the two trade office gossip. I've never been one for trading gossip myself, but I can't lie and say I don't like listening to it.

  Towards the middle of lunch, everyone watches intently as Jon pushes a jar of M&M's toward Mike. My jaw drops as he pops in one after another.

  "Twenty six...twenty seven..." Ryan counts. Mike suddenly starts shaking his head and puts up his hands. Everyone laughs and claps.

  "I cahn't," he says through the mouthful of candy. A few M&M's fall out of his mouth as he attempts to talk.

 

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