2.8 | Miles Away

10 | ten

  

A / N

Okay y'all, we're establishing...something.

x Noelle

  

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1 0

(the one with the frying pan)

MONDAY MORNING HAD me in a flurry of activity again.

Jessa and I had a meeting with the bank to take on a new loan for Sereinn, which was then followed by a ridiculous shouting-match in the main office. Someone had slept with someone's boyfriend, which was a drama only further fuelled by another someone (Heather Fisher) who thrived on gossip. There'd been all kinds of name-calling and cat-fighting and hair-pulling, while the rest of the employees got out their phones to record the whole damn thing. I'd marched down to the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and threatened to thunk them all over the head with it.

Everyone returned back to work pretty quickly after that.

I'd then trudged back to Brielle's office and thunked my own head on the table. Honestly, it was like I was back in high school again—with all the petty drama, office politics and girls who tore down other girls to make themselves feel better.

Brielle would handle this perfectly, I knew. One frosty look and a mild threat to have them all fired, and they'd return to their desks like perfect little lambs.

At that moment, the intercom buzzed. Stifling a groan, I felt around for the button and pushed it. "Yeah?"

"Darce, it's the front desk." Jessa sounded hesitant on the other end. "It's...um, I believe it's Mr Callaghan from Hale & Co."

"What?" I shrieked, and nearly fell off my chair in shock. Shit. Odds were, everyone in the office had heard me through the intercom. "I'll be right down!"

I smoothed my palms on my skirt and got up to leave. On second thought... I grabbed the frying pan and shut the door behind me. It was impossible not to notice the stares from the other employees. Heather, in particular, looked like she was about to pee in her seat from all that excitement.

I brandished the frying pan and smiled in satisfaction when she looked away.

Miles was waiting by the administration desk outside, and his eyebrows rose when he saw me. "In the middle of lunch, Evers?"

I blushed and lowered the pan. "No, just...fighting fire with fire."

"With a frying pan?"

"That's the only way to do it." Unable to help myself, I gave him a brief once-over. He'd worn the same coat down to his knees today, but I knew from his form-fitting suit the other night that he was all lean muscle underneath.

Not for the first time since we met, I was struck by just how many years had passed. The Miles from before had worn faded shirts and cargo shorts all the time. He'd smiled freely, laughed frequently, and was indiscriminately kind to everyone. Even those who'd given him hell.

But this—this was the Miles that he had become. Styled hair, polished shoes, expensive leather briefcase. This was the Miles I knew he would be, the one that I wanted him to be. I'd seen so much potential in him back then, but now that he'd become just what I wanted...