"Hey, Roger! I got your salted caramel hot chocolate just the way you like it; made with sweat, tears, and my beautiful smile, but mostly my beautiful smile," I giggled.
"Hey, Beautiful Gorgeous! You know what today is," Roger replied, kissing my forehead.
"It's totally not our seventh workiversery! Hotshot, it's been seven years since we both started working here. Yet here my boy is as my boss and as freaking unprofessional as ever," I smiled, politely handing him his beverage.
"Oh, ha, Tess, you're so nice."
"And funny, and smart, and I'm black. Let's move from the obvious, shall we? You've got a meeting in 15 minutes, and then you've got another meeting. Then, you got some free time. After that, it's 12:30."
"What happens at 12:30?"
"Lunch, Roger. It amazes me how many things you can't remember. Anyway, you should get upstairs before the interns get to your beloved brownies."
"Wait, before I go, I want you to know that I'm taking you to our special restaurant for lunch."
"Taco Burrito King? Thank you, Roger! I love you to death!"
"I got something for you in my desk, okay? I'll come get you later. Bye, Beautiful Gorgeous."
"Bye. Hotshot."
I gave him his usual morning meeting hug and watched him make his way to the stairs. I cleared my throat loudly and watched him hustle to the golden elevator in the other direction.
I walked through the glass doors of his office and sat down at my small, pink, designer desk. I turned my large pink swivel chair to face the wall behind me. There hung tons of photos of Roger and I doing everything together. There were pictures of us wearing fedoras and aviators (which was also my phone's screensaver), a photo of us being police for Halloween, us at the beach, and our favorite photo of us snuggled together on his worn out brown sofa.
I hadn't realized how long we had been friends until he had reminded me that morning. Seven years of being best friends had felt like a lifetime.
I sat in that chair until I could no longer curb my curiosity. I stood and walked to Roger's desk.
I opened the drawer under the large dark wood desk and pulled out a small slim box with hot pink and black wrapping paper. There was a small white card with Hello Kitty all over it.
"Happy Workiversary, Beautiful Gorgeous! I love you so much!"
I read it over several times before opening the slim box. Inside it was a Hello Kitty charm bracelet.
The smile crept onto my face as I ran my fingers along the silver chains that made up the bracelet.
I tried to occupy myself by thinking about other things, but I couldn't keep myself from thinking about how far our friendship had come. He was my soul brother. It felt like our entire history went back to the beginning of time.
Later, Roger pushed through the glass doors and stomped to his desk.
"Damn interns stole my brownies," he pouted, slumping into his chair.
"How about we go to lunch early and buy you those really big brownies from Starbucks? Then, we can talk about your addiction to brownies and pouting."
He nodded and held his hand out.
"Sometimes I get asked if we're dating and you know what I say?"
"What do you say, Roger?"
"I say you're not my type."
"Roger, that's because your type is desperate and easy to get with. Let's not even get started on your fear of commitment..."
"It's not a fear..."
"I remember Hadley..."
"Please don't bring up Hadley."
"You got her pregnant and found out that her family wanted you to propose to her. You stayed in my apartment for three months and you didn't leave at all. You told me to go to her house and tell that you were my baby's daddy and that I shot you in the face. She almost got me arrested. You've got commitaphobia. Do you have any idea how many times I've had to be your fake girlfriend just to get you out of your multitude of funks?"
"That just shows how much you love me. Only a true best friend would do that for me, right? Come on, I hear TBK calling our names."
I took hold of his hand as we made our way to the elevator.
Days were simpler then. Everything was in a balance that worked. Nothing needed to change, I thought. The thing about life's logic is that it doesn't give you the change you want, but the change you so desperately need. Still, at the time, the routine was a welcome monotony.
