Page 21 of Brooklynaire

The smirk becomes a real smile. “You could sneak out early, too, Isuppose.”

“Moi?” She gasps. “No way. I’ll sit quietly at my desk and meditate on your accomplishments until six o’clockcomes.”

“You kiss-ass. Have a great weekend, Bec.” He grabs his jacket off the sofa against the wall. His new office has real, grown-upfurniture.

Then he’sgone.

* * *

Rebecca actually does stayin the office for another hour, but only because she has plans to get drinks in the meatpacking district with friends who can’t leave work early. When Becca does finally leave the office, she only makes it three blocks before realizing she’s left her phone in the drawer of herdesk.

The only thing to do is return for it. A whole weekend without her phone?Impossible.

Back shegoes.

When she uses her keys to reopen the office suite door, there’s a Ping-Pong game going on in the bullpen area. That’s not unusual. Few of the employees of KTech work normal hours. But when she gets to Nate’s office door, there’s a light on inside. The blinds are down on the windows,too.

That’s odd. Ten minutes ago that office wasdark.

Rebecca taps on the door. “Nate? Are you inthere?”

Silence.

The hair stands up on the back of her neck, and visions of corporate espionage float through her head. Is someone rooting through Nate’s office, unauthorized? Rebecca grasps the door handle and turns. It’s unlocked. Her gaze shoots to the desk chair, but it’sempty.

But there’s Nate—planted on the love seat. He’s crouched forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin propped onto his folded hands. He stares at the rug,oblivious.

“Nate?” she whispers. “Is somethingwrong?”

He clears his throat, but doesn’t look up. “I never go homeearly.”

“I know,” she agrees, confused. She opens her mouth to ask a clarifying question, but then it hits her. He went home early. And saw something there he wasn’t supposed tosee.

Nate’s gaze lifts for a split second, and she sees misery in those light browneyes.

Stunned, Rebecca turns slowly around and goes back to her desk. She sits down and pulls out her lost phone, tucking it into herpocket.

A man having a personal crisis doesn’t necessarily want any company. He’s probably back at the office only because he has nowhere else to be alone. Nate and Juliet share anapartment.

Shit.

It doesn’t feel right to just walk away and go out for Friday night funzies, knowing he’s here andmiserable.

Rebecca unlocks her phone and cancels her plans with friends. Then she leaves the office building and walks over to twenty-eighth street, buying a sack of hot empanadas from a food cart and a fifth of tequila from the neighborhood’s only liquorstore.

The bodega on the corner has limes,too.

When she goes back upstairs, Nate is still seated, immobile as a statue, staring at the floor. Her heart breaks for him right there in the doorway to hisoffice.

She puts the sack of empanadas and the bottle on the coffee table. “You said you were starved,” she says, her voice practically booming in the too-quietspace.

He looks up at her like he’s never heard of foodbefore.

She opens the bag herself. “Chicken orcheese?”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, taking an empanada without looking atit.

She sits down beside him, and they eat the first round in silence. Then she cuts the lime with the penknife on her keychain and opens the bottle. “One shot just for a warm-up. Then we find you a hotel room before we’re too drunk to Google the phonenumber.”