The Darker Exterior

Chapter 7

Every passing day I didn't get to see Atticus seemed like torture.

As it turns out, Middle-aged businessmen needed to work. A lot, in fact.

I rapped my new set of nails on my desktop, looking over yet another submission Ford had sent me. It felt like he wasn't trying anymore. Every time he sent something for me to review, I came back with so many notes, I ended up rewriting it anyway. His work was beginning to pile up on me more than him. This entire week, he had left before I had, with no acknowledgment, at that.

"I'm heading out for the night, Annie said, grabbing her coat. Everyone had left tonight, besides Ford and I. Janitors were creeping in the corners of the open space, trying to get their jobs done as quickly as they could, most likely annoyed at our presence.

I looked down at my phone to check the time.

Yikes, Eight already?

"Sorry, Aurelia, I have to go. I tried," she said, giving me a half-smile. Annie always tried to wait for me to leave, but today seemed to be an extremely long day. I had gotten here early, six AM to be exact, to avoid this situation. But it looked like I was in for at least another hour. I squeezed in a nap around noon, on my lunch break, but I was still utterly exhausted.

"It's alright. Thank you for staying so long, girl. Have a good night," I reply, clicking save on my laptop. I was finally finished.

Almost as soon as Annie walked into the elevator, Ford's door opened. He placed a small folder of papers on my desk and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't look too well today. A pang of guilt rang through my chest as I took in his appearance. He was distressed, dark circles forming under his deepened brown eyes. His blonde hair was disheveled, and for the first time ever, he almost had a scruff of beard hair forming across his chin and neck.

"I'm headed home for the night. Can you look over these reports to see if they're correct? They're proposals for the new office buildings in Chicago," he replied, sliding his coat over his shoulders.

"Of course," I groan internally, grasping the papers between my fingers.

"See you tomorrow, Aurelia," he said, offering me what looked like a small smile before walking out of the office, leaving me utterly alone.

"Only three more," I mumble to myself, opening the folder. He did need these for the morning, as his meeting with the construction advisors was at nine, but I hated how long he procrastinated with these things. I guess Atticus was right, he was still finding his groove.

Almost on cue, my phone ding, the screen lighting up gleefully.

I looked over to see a text from Atticus,

Are you alright? Haven't heard from you in a bit.

I sighed and picked up the phone with a quaint smile.

I'm good, just at work. Been busy lately.

I haphazardly looked over the reports, awaiting the next response. I managed to get through one and a half of them before the inevitable response came through.

Still at work? It's been way more than a nine-to-five, Dolly.

I smiled and slid the next paper over into the folder. It would be fine, he wouldn't even notice if I didn't look at one paper.

More like a six to eight.

I place the folder on Ford's desk and pack up my things.

Six to eight?
As in fourteen hours?

Sadly, yes.

I grabbed my bag and stood again, ready for the long trek to my car, but nearly collapsed, my feet sore in the heels that adorned my feet. I sighed and took them off, hooking them onto my fingers as I walked.