Day 3

"Is she an artist?" Ronald asked casually, "She always carries a sketchbook with her."

"She is, in a way." Alan answered, handing Grell's mocha to Ronald, "She works in product design and development - now go give her the coffee without interrupting her train of thoughts."

"Gotcha." Ronald took the cup and walked to Grell's table - the same one she occupied every day where Alan would leave a "reserved" sign around the time she arrived so she wouldn't have to fight for it. "Here's your mocha, Miss-damn it, I mean, Grell." the moment he finished his sentence he prayed that her train of thoughts would not crash into him.

Grell let out a small laugh, "Do I make you uneasy, Ronnie?" she accepted the coffee without a fuss, her left hand rested on the table with a red pencil between her fingers.

"No, not at all." Ronald scratched the back of his head, frantically searching for a new topic in his mind, "What are you drawing?" He leaned closer to check her sketches, "Is that a-"

"Chainsaw." Grell answered, "Are you into gardening, Ronnie?"

"I mowed lawns."

Grell pulled out another sketch from her pile, "I personally find lawn mowers inflexible when it comes to aesthetic improvements. But I won't judge you if you find them appealing."

"You do realize that I didn't mow lawns because I find mowers irresistible, right?" Ronald joked before laying his fingers on Grell's sketch, "Wow, I like the look of this one."

"See? You do like mowers." Grell smirked. "Now go back to work before Alan kills you."

Ronald reluctantly returned to his spot behind the counter, only to ask more questions, "Does she always come here during working hours?"

"From time to time." Alan answered, "She doesn't like working in offices. Too confining, often musty, and extremely unhealthy to the liberal mind, she used to say. So she comes here as often as she could, usually when William is not around."

"Why? Will he punish her if he were?"

Before Alan could explain, their conversation was abruptly cut short by the next customer, and it wasn't until lunch time when Ronald found his answer.

When William walked in, the coffee house was already full of people, but he immediately located Grell in that little table at the corner.

Grell looked up when her name was called, "Will! You're back."

"Yeah, the meeting overran… Have you been here all morning?"

Grell nodded, reaching out for her mocha only to find the cup already empty so she just put it back, "You know I don't like working in the office. Plus you weren't there this morning so there's no point in staying. But before you scold me, I did get some work done." She pushed her sketches forward so William could see them.

"They're all red." he commented dryly.

Grell giggled, "All my prototype designs are drawn in red. If you want another color go bother the graphics department."

"Honestly, I'm not complaining."

Grell cupped her chin with both hands and asked earnestly, "Will you join me for lunch today, William?"

William hesitated for a moment before answering, "Sorry, I have a luncheon meeting on the schedule."

"What about after work?" Grell continued, "Do you want to go grab a drink or-"

"Overtime tonight, I'm afraid." William's reply was hasty, almost deliberately so, as if giving it a second thought would lead to some unfavorable consequences.

"Okay…" Grell gave up, "There are other times, I guess." she lowered her head but couldn't hide the disappointment in her eyes.

William stood there for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to leave this awkward shared space of silence, before walking towards the counter, "Can I have a medium mocha, please?"

"Sure. Anything for yourself, Sir?"

"No, tha-wait," William stared directly at the boy, "how did you know the mocha was not for myself?"

Ronald instantly broke into cold sweat, "I-I'm sorry, I was only assuming. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine…" William reassured him, turning his face slightly to the side to capture Grell in the corner of his eye, "I just hope you don't mind her sitting there all day."

"No, not at all." Ronald beamed, "Don't worry about it. We wouldn't have a problem with it even if you joined her." Damn, why did he even suggest that?!

To Ronald's relief, William didn't seem to be paying much attention.

Despite his urge to write Grell's name on the cup and make things even more painfully obvious, Ronald safely produced a cup of mocha and gave it to William. He didn't speak again, fearing that another word would give away his charitable intentions.

Grell's eyes lit up when William placed the cup on her table, "Thank you so much, Will. That was awfully sweet of you."

"Sorry about lunch, and the drink."

"Don't worry about it." Grell placed a hand on his arm, "There is always tomorrow."

"I have to go now." William gave a light tap on the back of Grell's hand, "See you later."

"See you, Darling."

Judging from that wide smile on Grell's face, Ronald knew that cup of mocha could sustain her for at least another day.

"Do you think William is telling the truth though?" he quietly asked Alan, who happened to see William exit the shop.

"Truth about what?"

"Overtime. He said he had overtime so he couldn't join Grell for a drink after work."

"He always has overtime." Alan shrugged, "I guess you can't escape that when you work in the executive branch."

Ronald sighed, "Poor Grell." One moment later, he asked, "Alan, do you know that feeling when you wish two people could just, y'know, get it going?"

"You mean like shipping?"

"Yeah-wait, how did you even know that term?!"

"Well, thanks to you working here, I now spend much more time on the Internet than I used to. Also, you need to remember clearing your browsing data after you sneak in to use my computer." Alan winked at him and slipped back into his office.

Ronald did not want to talk about the rest of it.

T.B.C.