The Next Best Thing: Part II

Eight

My meeting with Joss was scheduled for eleven, her last appointment before her habitual two hour lunch break.

She spent this time at the gym, meeting her equally busy husband for lunch or visiting her daughter for her occasional concerned mommy checkups. Joss happened to be the most family oriented business woman I had ever met and I admired that.

I stopped by a cafe outside the office to get an iced mocha latte, my favourite order from the cosy establishment. I sat by my window seat, looking out into the busy city and losing myself in thought. I remembered sitting in this exact same spot, watching a guy proposing to his girlfriend with a ring he'd stuck under their table on their first date. It was still there, adhered to the underside with cellophane.

The sentimentality of the act and how sure he was that she was the one touched me, this great act of love one of pure fiction. I'd never seen anything so beautiful or magical. I remember praying to have at least half of what they had, a bleak wish now.

I was seated in the lobby a few minutes before eleven; I chatted with a few of the girls, catching up on office gossip and the newest scandal getting everyone excited. Some lowly intern was screwing her boss and when his wife found out, she began hunt down this homewrecker now in hiding. 
I always enjoyed these moments, learning a lot about certain characters a normal conversation would never reveal.

I was called into Joss' office and I was greeted by a happy boss, kissing both my cheeks and welcoming me in her native French. "I missed your presence in my office, Zoe," she said, settling down behind her vintage designer trunk turned office desk.

I sat down in front of her on one of the unique chairs with different designs fashioned by the same sculptor; her office itself was an art piece. 

"It's understandable, considering I was always your favourite," I grinned.

She blushed and whispered, "You still are. That explains my proposal for you. Seeing as this will be your last year at university, I am offering you a job as junior assistant editor straight after graduation."

I shifted in my seat, my body overwhelmed with excitement and incredulity. I had worked hard as an intern for almost a year and I had been complimented on my work ethic. In the end, it paid off.

"You will start effective immediately when the new year begins. I'm so glad you'll be the one working for me," Joss added, a relieved expression on her face.

I thanked her for the opportunity, happiness coursing through my veins. A little bit of light was now warming my cold heart - I felt better.

She probed me on my holiday but I brushed over the topic. I regretted not telling her about Mitchell, whom she knew as nothing more than a close friend, and I. As far as she knew, I was very single; this led to numerous attempts to set me up with the perfect New York socialite, the perfect guy for me. Most ended up being very good friends of mine, people I would occasionally have dinner with.

I was invited to join her and her husband, a part Spaniard art curator named Brandon. They led very busy lives but they vowed to meet for lunch everyday, to be a blissfully married couple and treasure those fleeting moments together.

I knew how much I would look forward to seeing Mitchell when he would visit me - I wasn't about to interrupt their few hours together. Instead, I suggested we catch up before the school semester began, promising her an appreciation lunch for my new job.

I left the building soon after our meeting ended, and I called Min after catching a cab to Luke's restaurant, a place where we could hang out without drawing any attention to ourselves. I got her voicemail and I left a message...

There they were, all seated together around a central table, an empty chair beside Min. They must have arrived some time before I did, due to the ideal location of the restaurant in the Lower East Side.

"Hi, guys."