by Elara Skye
“Thanks,” Angela murmured, handing it back to her. Amelia pressed her lips into a thin smile, walking away as the woman pressed a button to open the gates.
The elevator was just as pristine; the waiting area on the forty-second floor no less impressive. There were leather couches everywhere, and the entire story had more glass windows than it did walls. A meeting was being held directly across from the entryway as Amelia strode in—an important-looking one, with twenty occupants—and the entire middle section of the floor was cut up and converted into a glass staircase that led to the lower level.
Not bad, she thought to herself as she approached another front desk.
“Hi,” she said to the young girl seated in front of the computer. “I’m here to see Finn Regis, can you point me in his direction?”
The girl looked up, sucking her cheeks in as her bright, blue eyes rolled over Amelia’s figure. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, we’re just having lunch.”
“Oh. Okay, one sec.” The girl turned back to the computer, looking dissatisfied. Amelia furrowed a brow quizzically at the reaction. “Sorry, he doesn’t have any guests listed for today.”
Now she was getting annoyed. “I think he might’ve forgotten. Can you call him out here?”
Since he’s not answering his stupid phone?
The girl forced a fake, sympathetic smile, covering the modicum of bitterness in her voice. “Sorry, he’s got some meetings in a bit. You really have to make an appointment with h—”
“Amelia?”
Her gaze jutted toward the familiar voice. “Alaric?”
“Hey,” he said, sauntering over to the desk—dressed casually in comparison to the people in the conference room. He looked a bit tired as well, like he hadn’t been sleeping. “Good to see you, what’re you doing here?”
She eyed him curiously, wondering if she’d actually gotten the date wrong. “I’m here to see Finn.” Amelia held up the bag. “For lunch.”
“Finn? Now?”
Dread sank in her chest. “I thought I was supposed to meet him today, isn’t he going on that trip tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’re both flying out tonight.”
“Okay, so I did get the date right. He asked me to stop by for lunch, but he’s not answering his phone.” Amelia threw Heather a pointed look. “And this young lady doesn’t want to call him out here for me.”
The girl rolled her eyes—no doubt thinking the gesture was subtle—and looked back at the computer screen.
A smirk crept into Alaric’s expression. “Of course, he’s not answering,” he nodded over his shoulder, “Right down the hall and to the left, his door’s the last one.”
Amelia eyed him suspiciously as she came around the counter. “What’s that grin for?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. Just...” His voice lowered. “Close the door if you don’t want any interruptions.”
The bag suddenly grew heavy as she slowed, her cheeks flushing as she threw him a look over her shoulder. Alaric chuckled in turn, patting the front desk and telling the receptionist to add Amelia as a guest.
Her steps grew tentative as she passed by a smaller conference room, seeing only two people inside. One was spinning around in his chair, looking notably disheveled and inordinately amused. The other was a woman at the far end of the table, glaring up at the television. A single glance at the screen revealed the subject of her discontent. It was a federal report projecting interest rate hikes—a sizable shudder to company investments.
Yikes, Amelia thought as she passed by.
Strange that Finn wouldn’t attend a meeting like this if he’s working on site. The company’s investments were undoubtedly something he should have a say in—perhaps he was too familiar with the golden rule of delegation.
Amelia slowed as she approached his door, which was propped open at the end of the hall. Even from here, she could see how exceptionally decorated the room was. At a glance, it appeared much smaller than she anticipated. Or perhaps the furniture was simply large, all in all striking an attractive balance between rustic and modern. And at the far end of the room, draped over his office chair, was the man himself.
Amelia snorted. Feet kicked up on his desk, ankles crossed, Finn was sound asleep in his chair. As she strolled further into the room, it became clear that he hadn’t dressed for the occasion—for work—beyond a blazer that covered up the casual tee-shirt thrown on in the morning.
It was unsurprising—without knowing who Finn was, Amelia would have picked him out as the CEO, and Alaric would have been the runner-up.
And apparently, the CEO was also a heavy sleeper. Or so she gathered as she set the bag down, without getting a single stir out of the man. Even the clicks of her shoes around his desk did nothing, nor did the gentle whispers of his name. At that point, it was getting difficult to suppress the chuckle that rose. The endeavor to get to this office was so challenging—it took a real effort to get past all his thresholds. And this was the endgame?
Perhaps poking him would suffice. Or saying his name until he woke up. Blowing in his face might work as well—Amelia smirked at every thought. “Finn?”
No answer.
The longer she stared, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t moving.
At all.
Nor was there a visible rise or fall to his chest.
Disconcertion crept through her, and she raised a finger to his nose—no sign of breathing. “Uh,” Amelia mumbled as she poked him with her phone. “Finn?”
Still nothing. With a jolt of panic, Amelia dropped the device, her hand clamping down on his shoulder instead.
“Finn!?”
His eyes shot open the moment she touched him, and Amelia jumped back. Finn stared up at her, chest heaving a bit from being startled. “Wh—Amelia?
In the smallest instant, she could have sworn she saw a flash of light—silver, maybe?—expand from his pupils to the rims of his green irises. Her mouth grew dry as she stared at him, mouth agape. Not a word was registering as thoughts zipped through her head; there was the cocktail, the museum, and the not-getting-sick. One by one, they filed through her mind as she considered how many improbable events could be tagged to a single person.
“Y-You’re here?” Finn eyed her concernedly as he leaned forward a bit. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”
No, she shook her head. Amelia couldn’t have seen what she thought she did just now.
She moved without thinking. Her hand found its way back to his shoulder, and she closed the space between them quickly, stopping a foot away from his face—close enough to observe him keenly. Finn moved in tandem, leaning back against his chair with little resistance. He both looked and sounded stunned as he stared wide-eyed at her.
“Uh...” he breathed out, while Amelia searched his features for something—anything—out of the ordinary. But there was nothing there.
It only happened a moment ago; she was sure of it as she kept looking. There had to be some sign of what she just saw. Meanwhile, Finn made no move to push her away. She only noticed his hand on her arm when he squeezed it a bit. Retaining his look of shock, Finn let loose a breath as she finally pulled back, collecting herself.
“I—” Amelia stuttered, her eyes fluttering down to his lips inadvertently. “I’m so sorry—that was so weird of me.”
“It’s alright,” his voice was soft, hardly more than a whisper. “Were you looking for something?”
Amelia took a step back, not knowing what to say. “No, nothing,” she murmured. Maybe it really was her imagination. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry about it, it was nothing.
Finn looked like he was considering whether to press her further. To dispel the air, Amelia turned around the corner of his desk and approached the couches. She had left the lunch bag on one of the end tables when she came in, and she swept it back up quickly.
His voice came from behind her, “You brought food? From work?”
Agitation jolte
d through her, and the bag swung in her hand as she faced him with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression we were having lunch today. But you weren’t answering your phone, and everyone’s been asking why I’m here, so I think I should probably go.”
“No,” he insisted immediately, rising from his chair. “No, please don’t. This week’s been chaotic, and I dozed off for a while. Please stay.”
Judging by the way Finn pleaded, the way his tone disarmed her, Amelia realized at that moment that they were well past the point of friendship. They affected each other too much for that. Tension didn’t manifest between friends the way it did here.
She felt a headache coming on, and she rubbed her brow.
“Amelia?”
His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh?”
“Do you still want to have lunch?”
Amelia’s stomach had been growling all morning, but she felt nothing as she looked down at the packed-up food. Two sandwiches and two sides: fries and a salad.
She considered it and sighed. “Yeah, sure,” she muttered, slowly coming back around the couch. “If you want to.”
“Absolutely. You must be hungry by now.”
“Starving,” she lied, trying to pull her mood back out of the gutter. “Jumping through hoops to get here worked up quite an appetite.”
Finn paused in his approach, looking concerned. “Hoops? What do you mean?”
“Well,” she plopped down on the couch, handing him the bag, “first Amelia Varis wasn’t on your list of company guests, so I had to try Var Hart. Then, your lovestruck receptionist didn’t want to let me in to see you, and she wouldn’t even call you out to confirm. If not for Alaric, I’d probably still be standing out there.”
Well, no, she would have gone home.
“Wait,” he murmured, looking a bit flustered as she handed him the container. “Sorry—you said ‘lovestruck?’”
“Sick as a puppy.”
Finn seemed incredulous. “You are talking about Heather, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t see a name tag. If that’s the girl manning your front desk, then yes.”
“No, that can’t be,” he disagreed, opening the container.
“Why not?”
Finn looked at her and shrugged. “It just can’t. I would’ve noticed.”
Amelia arched a brow at him. “Is she an intern?”
“Yes. She’s in her final year of college, I think.”
“Figures.” She shot him a wry look. “She sized me up the second I walked in. But if she wants to work here permanently, I doubt she’d pull a move on the hot boss.”
Finn choked mid-bite, and Amelia shrank where she sat, realizing what she just said. Her insides shriveled with embarrassment. “Wow,” he crooned, smiling, while the coughing fit settled. “Is that what you think of me?”
Her face turned red and hot as she continued to unravel her lunch, tearing open the plastic utensil bag. “I mean, I’m not blind,” Amelia laughed nervously, picking up a shovel and digging deeper. “She’s probably not blind either—or anyone else working here.”
Amelia raised her wrist to her cheeks, hoping the chill of her hand would cool them as well. Finn’s sandwich rested on his lap, and in the corner of her eye, Amelia could see the amused grin frozen in his expression. She pretended not to notice as she took a bite of her salad, wishing he’d look away.
There was a breathy chuckle before he finally moved on. “Well, anyway, how was your day?”
“Good. Pete got a little snippy with me, but that’s it.”
“Any reason for it?”
“Not really. He just gets like that sometimes, when he’s stressed.”
“I’ve heard that if a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you.”
“Know what I did to boys that were mean to me in kindergarten? I punched them.” She looked at him—momentarily stunned by his smile. “Can’t do that now, since I’d be tried as an adult.”
Finn looked back down at his food and shrugged. “Suppose we’ll have to be nice to you, then.”
Did he just—
“In most situations…” the words flew out of her mouth, and her hand shot up to cover it. Damn it.
Amelia shut her eyes tightly, while Finn laughed. “Someone’s in a mood today.”
What the hell was wrong with her?
“No mood,” she ground out the words and moved on quickly. There was no point hiding the redness in her face, but she refused to entertain it longer than necessary. “How was your day?”
“Changing the subject?”
“Yes.”
“Then my day was alright,” he said teasingly, as though talking her down from a fit. “Tiring, as you’ve already discovered.”
“Everything okay?” she asked, starting to regain control. The color in her face was slowly normalizing, slowed by the persistent smile on Finn’s face.
“It’s as good as it’s going to get. But I’ll figure things out, I always do.”
“Anything to be worried about?”
“Not on your end. It’s business as usual, nothing I can’t handle.”
“Well, I’m always here to talk if you need it.”
She saw him shake his head, mumbling before taking a bite, “Should be the other way around…”
Amelia furrowed a brow. “Why?”
Finn paused, eyes wide, as though he didn’t think she’d hear him. “Sorry, what I mean is that I’d rather you care for yourself first.”
“Talking about your problems doesn’t take anything away from me.”
“Except for your time and energy.”
“You brought me soup and watched movies with me while I had the plague,” she said with a smile. “I’m willing to reciprocate.”
Amelia bit back the urge to wince at her own phrasing.
“Don’t make me worry about you, that’s all I ask.” Finn said. “Everything else can be managed. Besides, I’d say these little get-togethers are sufficiently distracting, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t have much to be distracted from these days.
“Good,” he said earnestly. “Let’s keep it that way.”
There was a knock at the doorway—Heather was back. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt. Your two o’clock is here.”
“Send them away, please,” Finn answered without hesitation.
“Uh,” the girl droned, staring at Amelia. And at that point, Amelia knitted her brows together and stared right back. The cattiness would have had her fired in an instant if she was one of hers. “Are you sure?”
“It’s okay,” Amelia said pointedly, turning to Finn and extending a hand. “If you have to go, it’s fine—”
“No.” He took her wrist and pushed it down to the couch between them, looking back at the intern. “I know who it is. Send them away, Heather. Tell them something’s come up, and I will have to reschedule.”
Finn held her wrist for a moment before letting it go, but the feeling of his skin lingered. Amelia swallowed thickly before speaking again. “You sure that was okay to do?”
“Of course, it was,” Finn answered decisively. “They can wait. Go on, then. You were telling me about your day.”
She smiled when he wasn’t looking, occupied once more with his sandwich. There wasn’t much else to tell him about her day, so they spent the remaining hour or so discussing the itinerary for his trip. Business as usual, just as she expected. He’d be flying quite a bit over the next two weeks, so she wouldn’t expect to hear much from him during those periods, as well.
Amelia scarcely anticipated forgetting the day’s events while he was gone. Not that she felt inclined to bring them to his attention again. The trip may have come at a convenient time, and perhaps the distance would provide clarity on both their fronts.
Or perhaps it would keep things muddled and make her miss him, instead. Sweet enigma that he was.
Chapter eleven
With a book in her hand and a coffee cup beside her, Amelia savored t
he peace and quiet of her anonymity. All around her, crowds of suited professionals meandered through the pavilion on their lunch breaks, talking amongst themselves. As she watched them go, Amelia could scarcely believe that she was once among them, going for lunch with her colleagues.
Her phone buzzed noisily on the metal table, and she picked it up.
Finn often checked in over the past week, as he’d done just now, but their interactions were brief and far in between. Occasionally he called to complain, but his grievances were short, bittersweet droplets of nostalgia. It was no trouble to coax him out of a sullen mood—she certainly sympathized with it.
Strangely enough, Amelia had also begun sleeping poorly again, despite the generally lightened outlook on things. Not that Finn’s absence had anything to do with that, but sleep deprivation was a counterbalance to his daily influence. This was the third night she’d awoken from another nightmare—always the same one—in a cold sweat. It left her with a persistent headache that was making work life difficult, which was why Amelia wasn’t looking forward to her shift later that day. Two cups of coffee had mediated the fatigue a bit, but she was developing a tolerance.
She slid her finger to turn the page, pausing when a pair of black Oxfords appeared in front of her. “Amelia?”
She looked up. It took a second to match the face to a name, as the man had aged since she last saw him. “Patrick?”
Her father’s business partner.
“Hey, kid,” he said. Amelia breathed out softly, hardly believing her eyes, while Patrick pointedly glanced around the pavilion. “So, this is where you ran off to, huh?”
A quiet scoff escaped her. “Why do you care? What’re you even doing here?”
“Well, you know a kid since they’re in diapers, you might wonder about it when you see ‘em like this. I’m in town for a business trip.”
Amelia was reluctant to ask, “Is my dad here too?”
“No.” He eyed her carefully, concealing a sneer. “Talk to him lately?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad. I think today counts as seeing you more than he has these past three years.”