Clear

Clear: Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Tick, Tick...

The number '33' had never been so deliciously tempting. My destination was only two levels below where my mind played, and when the doors parted for me, I was couldn't step out without realizing that my curiosity of upstairs hadn't ghosted. In fact, the proximity made it worse.

Diversion was triumphant in every attempt it took. If my phone vibrated, I was holding onto it and disappointed at retelling myself to stop being surprised that it wasn't a message from who I was thinking of.

Of course he wouldn't. Why would he?

If there was any consolation, I was glad that Andre had given up on trying to get an answer out of me. His last voicemail was left unheard, and I was sure I already knew what it was going to say and how it was going to make me feel. Though, unfortunately for him, I was truly exhausted from the typical me. And if that was who he was looking for, he might as well be leaving his messages for a dead number.

My brain was still stuck on Saturday. Stuck on the color blush blue and the recollection of crooked smiles, the first half hour of work turned into a blur. It was so bad, that I just let it be bad– the distraction. I learned my lesson to let it roam free on Sunday morning when the first thing I did was take hold of my parka to see if I could catch a whiff of the day before. I couldn't, and the rain mixed with the city grime was to blame for that. So, with nothing to immediately satisfy the strange craving, I was stuck with an active imagination.

I opened the folder next to my keyboard to check the schedule. It said that he was supposed to be in, but it wasn't as though Ezra had always followed his schedule. A busy man couldn't always stick to the script, I suppose.

The printed sheets weren't enough to pacify my anxiety. But what did was the incoming email from him with more documentation for the Willoughby account.

Yes, you can smile, Ada.

No one would question why I looked so cheerful, when my excuse was open on my screen with a few attachments.

Reading 'Good morning Ms. Young' shouldn't have been as inviting as it was. In fact, it wasn't the first time he had ever written or said those words to me before. However, knowing now whom I was dealing with twisted something so innocent into a guilty pleasure.

Replying with my thanks for the information shouldn't have come with any expectations, but I was right to take a moment to watch the inbox before I surrendered my attention to actually applying myself to work.

I did receive a response from Ezra, though it wasn't in an email. I grabbed my phone, and I bit down on lower lip to thwart a smile.

Have you made plans for lunch today?

My thumbs hovered over the screen as I thought about what had hit me at that moment. What I thought might never happen was me wanting to look forward to having lunch with Ezra, but low and behold my nerves were jittering as I was typing and deleting and typing and deleting.

"Just send it, dammit," I cursed under my breath, and I finally sent, "I have not :)"

"Shit," I immediately spat. "A smiley?"

But seconds barely passed when I was forced to look into my hands again and read, "Would you like to have lunch with me today?"

I was such a little girl, feeling squeamish over what was essentially nothing. Yet 'nothing' may not have been the right word when he replied to my 'Sure!' with a ':)'.

*

My hand was cupped on the slender window next to the office door and peered inside. I was pretending not to be able to see him though he had already approached the door. Ezra's grip was on the knob, unmoving as he peered at me. It was clear that he was trying not to laugh as I continued to play as though I was severely far and near-sighted.