Wednesday, 10:30 am (post-meeting the following week)
"How'd it go?" Alice asks as I walk past her.
"Okay."
"Humph." I hear and then the sound of her pushing her chair out before her heels start their metronomic rhythm across the floor behind me.
I open the door and hold it for her as she precedes me into my office, the subtle perfume she wears wafting behind her as I follow.
"What do you mean 'okay'? If you think I'm going to let you get away with that then you're mistaken, mister."
"I mean okay, Ali. It was okay. There's nothing more to say." I make my way immediately to 'my corner of sanity' and start preparing an espresso. "Want one?"
"No! I mean yes… I suppose." I can sense her frustration, but playing with her is the most fun I've had in weeks. I'm in a good mood and intend staying that way. "But he wasn't there, Jazz. He didn't turn up."
"He was. He was sitting in his seat when I walked in." The coffees made, I turn and carry them toward her, handing her the cappuccino and taking the espresso to my chair with me.
"I set the room up, Jazz, and then I was at my desk until you went in. He most definitely wasn't there." She sips her drink as she thinks—it's very cute.
"He most definitely was… And looking mighty fine as well, I might add," I whisper, raising my brow cheekily. "Very, very fine."
"You are incorrigible." She is still trying to work out the puzzle that is Edward's attendance in the meeting. I let her stew for a moment while I sip on my hot brew, but decide quickly to put her out of her misery.
"He came in through Esme's door," I admit.
I can see the instant light bulb moment she has, but it isn't enough for her.
"When… What time?"
"He was there when I walked in." And he was; his prepared notes and data laid out in front of him.
"Sneaky devil," she mumbles, and I must admit I agree with her. I'd known he wasn't there only minutes before when Alice had left the room because she'd told me so.
"I asked him."
"What do you mean you asked him?"
"Well, I told him he wasn't there minutes before and asked him how in the hell he managed to get past you."
"I do generally see everything." And she does… It's weird.
"Well you didn't today, sweetie. He fooled you."
Not that I think it was intentional. He'd just come straight from the upstairs offices so he came in the other door. And it's all irrelevant anyway. He was here, and on time, and he has been, nearly every day; even the odd five minutes here and there haven't bothered me. It's obvious he is making an effort and I can't ask for more than that.
"You still need to sit down and talk to him, Jazz." She looks at me intently. "Why haven't you?"
I've been wondering when this question would be asked of me, and I've also been psyching myself up—every day—on how I'm going to answer it.
"Can I plead the fifth?" I ask contritely.
"No!"
I'm sure I grumble under my breath at her determination.
"Can I say I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie?"
"Are you serious?" She takes a long sip of her coffee as she eyeballs me.
"Sort of…" I'm not going to get a way with it today. I take a resigned sigh and start, "Alice, something happened in that meeting last week. I'm not even sure it had anything to do with my 'little outburst', but he seemed 'broken'. Maybe that's extreme, but he did. I know I should talk to him—I need to talk to him—and if it was anyone else I would have months ago, but I can't bring myself to do it, not yet anyway. I just want to give him another chance, a bit more time."
"Jazz, he's had periods before when he's managed to be punctual for a few weeks, but it doesn't last. You know that."
"I know. And I know it's not just his punctuality we need to talk about. We need to talk about a lot of things: Esme for one."
Putting her empty cup on my desk, she crosses her legs and begins to kick her foot. It makes me smile—I love her tells.
"Okay… So he's been getting here on time, mostly, which is great, let's hope it lasts, but how has he been toward you?"
"No change." I can't help my sad smile. I had hoped that my acquiescence would warm him to me a bit. Not because I want it to be a step forward in some sort of relationship we could have, not in a personal sense anyway, but definitely professionally. It would make life so much easier. "He says what he has to say and nothing else. I realize I've said this before, but I don't really know what I've ever done to him to cause such a reaction. I've no idea why he hates me."
"He doesn't hate you, Jazz, he's just indifferent. And I've told you this before, but it's not just you, he's like that with most people. The only reason he's friends with Rose and Em is because Emmett wouldn't take no for an answer when he first started working here—he's rather persuasive, as you know—and Rose is part of that package. And I get on okay with him because he has to deal with me, and I won't allow his surly rubbish to fly. Believe me, I've picked him up on it a few times."
"I know."
"All I can say is that I'm so happy I don't have issues sleeping. It certainly messes with you."
Yeah, nearly as much as he messes with me, I think. I wish I could control that.
Thanks for reading.