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I gave him a look.
“Sorry, Troy.”
I smiled. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” I said, taking the coffee.
I took a sip as he eagerly watched to see what I thought. Warm notes of spice and a slight sweetness from the cream ran down my throat. I looked at the cup in my hands.
“This is delicious,” I said. “Add this to the morning lineup.”
“You’ve got it.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, realizing I had never properly introduced myself to him.
“Connor.”
“Thanks again, Connor.”
I waited as he went to clean the counters behind him, slipping a hundred-dollar bill behind the counter for his tip, before walking out the door. I walked back to the office feeling better than I had when I left. When the elevator doors opened, Mr. Belleview was saying his goodbyes to Kathy and Monica. I had missed the rest of the meeting, but I didn’t really care.
“Mr. Gunner,” he said as we came face to face.
“Mr. Belleview. I’m sorry I had to leave the meeting so abruptly.”
“It’s quite all right. I was in good hands.” He glanced at Monica, who stood behind me. “That assistant of yours is really something.”
“That she is,” I said with a single nod.
“Good day.”
The elevator doors closed, making him disappear from view. I turned and saw Monica eyeing me warily. I mouthed a quick “thank you” to her. I swore I saw the faintest smile cross her lips before Kathy was on the attack.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she barked at me as she followed me down the hallway to my office. “Do you know what you could have cost us pulling something like that? Wait until your father hears about this.”
Her shrill voice was drowned out as I thought about what my next steps might be. I thought about what Connor had said, and laughed to myself about how a kid who was probably barely even twenty-one was schooling me on life. Whatever my next move was, I knew for damn sure that Kathy wouldn’t be there. But what about Monica? This job was the only thing tying me to her now. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.
Chapter 31
Monica
Ishowed up at the coffee shop at my normal time of 8:15 a.m. to place my order with the regular barista. Connor, I think his name was. The line was its usual busy length, wrapping around the counter toward the door. That was why I always got here early. I had been working for Troy long enough to time everything perfectly in the mornings, so his coffee would be ready and I would be early.
I waited patiently in line, thinking about yesterday’s meeting with that old schlep who probably only gave me the time of day so his eyes could ogle where a sixty-year-old man’s eyes shouldn’t ogle. But I had to butt in. Troy was flailing in that meeting, and while I could have let him drown, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
The thing was, as I began to talk, I realized I knew more about numbers and figures than I had thought. Mr. Belleview actually found value in my thoughts, rather than just my looks. After Troy had abruptly excused himself, I ran the rest of the meeting under the watchful, but impressed, eyes of Kathy. I realized I was good at this job. This job that I took on a whim to pay the bills until I got back on my feet with writing. While I didn’t see a future in hedge funds, I was proud of myself. It gave me a little boost of confidence.
I still didn’t know what happened with Troy. He was so unlike his usual cool and confident self. It was like he had never run a meeting in his life. I knew Kathy would report back to his father, which would probably put him in one of his usual moods. At least I was prepared.
Part of me wanted to know what was going on with him, but I knew it wasn’t my business. It never really was. When something went wrong in his life, he simply shut me out rather than opened up. I guessed we both did that to each other. He knew nothing of my writing, or my struggles, or the stalker who had been haunting my dreams lately. I wondered if what they said was true, that if you dream of someone, it means they’re thinking of you. I really hoped they were wrong about that.
“Next,” called Connor from behind the counter.
“Good morning. I’ll take the usual for Mr. Gunner.”
“Ah, are you sure?”
“Iced Americano. Yes. Wait, why wouldn’t I be sure?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, he was in here yesterday. He let me surprise him with a new latte I have been working on. Seemed to really like it.” Proudness beamed from Connor’s face.