Gianna's Grit | ✓

XV: Back to the Grind

GIANNA

Aside from my headache and partial mid-life crisis, I was fine. So, I hauled myself to work that day. I was one of the first to arrive, making it easy for me to find my usual parking space in the garage. I grabbed my purse and portfolio, my packed bag on the passenger floor catching my eye before I shook my reverie off.

I don't have time for that right now, I need to work.

I checked my hair and appearance in the mirror before getting out, locking my car behind me, and hopping into the elevator alone.

Once on my floor, I offered short greetings to whomever I passed and my secretary, before finally reaching my office. My eyes landed on the large stack of assignments, and my jaw dropped.

"Fucking awesome!" I scowled, dropping my bags beside my desk before shuffling through the files. "They're surely going to give Paul the promotion if I can't even balance my family and work at this level!"

I organized the files into the subject matter, putting Martha's project right into my portfolio for later focus. I skipped lunch and dove into work the entire day, ignoring attempts by colleagues to get me away from my work matter. I didn't stop until Sherry, the secretary I hadn't seen in a month, told me it was time to go home.

"You go ahead, I'm almost finished with the last file," I said, adding the finalized file template to an email to my superior. "Have a nice night."

She sighed knowingly, yet gave me a short "you too" before closing my office door behind her.

It took me a few more minutes to send everything to my boss and put everything I'd finished on Sherry's desk for physical delivery, but I felt accomplished.

I slid on the jacket I'd shed during my lunch hour and slid unfinished files into my portfolio. I shut down my computer before getting in the elevator with my purse and portfolio on my arm.

Time to go back to the neighborhood now that I'm all caught up and repacked.

The elevator doors opened and I realized how many people had already left. I'd missed the office.

I was asking down my row when I saw him. I quickened my pace and pressed my lips to King's when I was close enough. I didn't notice until I'd backed away and took in his face that his bottom lip was busted; he hadn't even winced.

My brow furrowed and smile fell as he surveyed my body from head to toe, "What's wrong?"

Those hooded eyes landed on mine, "You didn't even say goodbye."

I quickly realized what he meant and lifted my portfolio, "I came back to catch up on work. I packed my bag again too, it's in my passenger seat—"

His eyes didn't leave mine, "You left me again."

My arms dropped to my sides, I was at a complete loss. I sighed and noted the hurt in his eyes.

I opened my mouth to explain and apologize, but King acted first.

He snatched my car keys from my hand and gave me a cold, "Get in."

He unlocked the car and got in, leaning over to pop up the passenger door and eyeing me expectantly.

I huffed and rounded the vehicle, having no other choice, before sliding into the seat beside him. I sat my portfolio beside my luggage, keeping my purse in my lap.