Crossing Paths (23 page)

“Hello?”

“June. Could you come into my office? There are a few things we need to discuss.”

“Sure.”

Mr. Hargrove wants to see me?
I wonder what this could be about. He didn’t beat around the bush, and he sounded sort of serious. I’m heading toward his office when I see Cohen exiting just a few feet in front of me. He looks my way and nods, but then he turns and walks the other direction.

I walk into my boss’ doorway and lift my closed fist, ready to knock.

“June. Come in,” Mr. Hargrove says before my knuckles have a chance to meet the wood. “No need to knock. Close the door behind you.”

I do as I’m told, and then I take a seat in one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

“I bet you’re wondering why I asked you here,” he says with no hint of happiness on his face.

“Yes, I am curious.”

“Some things have come to my attention. I was wondering if you could shed some light on them for me.”

“Um…” I pause, not knowing where this is going. “I hope I can do that.”

“First of all, where do you get off stealing the affection of one of our top client representatives?”

No way! He knows? What did Cohen say? I’m going to lose my freaking job, and then I’m going to kill him. I can’t believe he would do this to me! Is he punishing me for the things I said? All because I wouldn’t let him just string me along while he goes about living his normal life back on the West Coast?

My inner rant is continuing to ramble as my eyes venture to catch a glimpse of my boss again.
He’s smiling? Wait, is he laughing?

“Oh, June, you are too easy.” He laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s all good news, June. I just like to mess with you.”

I think I just had a heart attack. My breathing has to be irregular.

“Cohen and the group at Bushing have commended your hard work and dedication. In fact, Cohen just brought in a letter stating what an asset you are to their project. In light of all your recent success with this client, I’ve decided to give you a raise. I know you haven’t been here long, but I want you to know how much we appreciate your organic style of thinking.”

I sit, dumbfounded and speechless. Mr. Hargrove is still grinning in my direction. I stare at him, wide-eyed. I think I’m having another heart attack.
A raise?

“Earth to June. Did you hear me?”

“Oh, um. Ye-yes. I heard you. Thank you so much. That is amazing.”

“Well, you deserve it. We’ll talk about all the details later. Until then, get back to work, and keep impressing the crap out of everyone you meet.” He hands me a single piece of paper with some typewritten words.

Walking back to my office in slow motion, I read the letter. My face feels flushed by the end of the esteemed commendation. People in the office probably think I’ve been fired. The truth is that I’ve never seen a letter more full of positive attributes. They’re all about me, and the letter is personally signed by Cohen.

The remainder of the day passes without any further surprises. I work until the clock strikes five and then head home. I’m looking forward to a warm bath and some relaxing tunes. Quite the celebration, I know.

Thursday

Elevators stress me out and make me claustrophobic. I thought elevators were supposed to be sexy.
Doesn’t every book worth anything have an amazing scene where something happens in an elevator?
And by something, I mean, a really hot kiss at least.
Of course, nothing that exciting is occurring for me at this moment.

Instead, I’m on my way up to work, standing in the front corner of the elevator with middle-aged men on every side. I can feel Cohen’s eyes staring a hole in the back of my head. When I walked into the elevator, I noticed him toward the back. Paying him as little attention as possible, I positioned myself in the opposite corner and stared at the junction of the two metal walls.

I know it might seem ridiculous, but after our dinner on Tuesday, I need to put up some serious walls.
I will not let this guy think he can walk in and out of my life as he pleases.
And if he thinks giving me a good review—which I deserve by the way—is going to soften me back up, then he’s got another thing coming.

When the elevator dings, several people file out. I stay stationary in my corner, not chancing a glance at Cohen. I’m feeling proud of myself for standing my ground when I hear soft footsteps coming toward me. My entire body stiffens, but nothing happens. The elevator dings again as it opens on our floor.

Attempting to be casual, I say hello to a few people on the way to my office, but I never stop walking in the direction I’m heading. Constant movement and lack of direct contact with Cohen will be my saving grace today. I close the door to my office, sit in my desk chair, and take a deep breath.

I shake the mouse, so my computer comes to life. I check my email and notice immediately that we have a meeting scheduled with Cohen and a few other associates at eight fifteen. I had some practice with ignoring Cohen yesterday, so I should be in good shape.

After gathering some needed items, I walk into the conference room with a smile on my face. I’m hoping my face yells confidence and happiness although I’m quite sure it just reeks of falsehood. Cohen is sitting at the far side of the table, clicking away on his laptop. He doesn’t even look up when Mr. Hargrove and I start speaking to one another. I make an effort to position my chair, so I’m not tempted to look his way during the meeting. Now, I would actually have to crane my head around like an owl to catch a glimpse of him.

The meeting is going well. We’ve set up goals to accomplish many important steps. Then, I hear a small dinging noise, and a chair moves quickly. I’m about to turn to see the cause of the commotion when Cohen comes into view. He is frantically pushing buttons on his phone. Never once taking his eyes off his phone, he crashes into a chair and stumbles for a few feet before catching himself with one hand against the glass-lined wall. He gives a quick glance around the room as if he’s just realizing that he’s still in a meeting. His eyes are filled with a disconcerting look.

“Excuse me. I-I…need to make a phone call,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving.

Silence fills the room until someone cuts through the tension, picking up the discussion where we left off. I can’t make myself listen. My mind is going over what would cause Cohen to act so erratically. Even though I’m not wasting my time on a relationship with him right now, his demeanor does have me worried.
What was he not telling me the other night? Does it have anything to do with his sudden distress?

Friday

Cohen never returned to the conference room, and I haven’t seen him the rest of the week. Once again, my email and text messages are free and clear of Cohen’s name. I don’t ask Mr. Hargrove any questions.
If Cohen wanted me to know what was going on, he would tell me, right?

As I’m leaving work on Friday evening, I decide to text Caroline, letting her know that we’re going out tonight.
If Cohen isn’t calling, then I’m going out. Why should I stop enjoying myself because he came into my life?
I’m not going to wait around for him to come to his senses.

Going out tonight. Put on your party dress! —June

Are you sure? I don’t know if that’s a good idea. —Caroline

Since when do you not like to party? —June

I’ve had a lot on my mind, but if you’re up for it, I guess I could join you. —Caroline

It seems like Caroline might need a little cheering up as well. Her moods have been so extreme.
What’s up with her?

A couple hours and many tweezed hairs later, Caroline and I are walking out the door on our way to Club Red. I’ve heard from several different people that this is the place to go for a good time. Not to mention, they have free cover for ladies along with some awesome drink specials.

As I slide into the driver’s seat, I decide to ask Caroline more about the guy she’s been dating. “So, what’s been going on with you and the mystery man? Will I get to meet him soon?”

“Probably not,” she says, looking out the passenger-side window.

“You aren’t thinking of ditching him yet, are you?”

“No, we’ve both been busy with work. You know, real life gets busy.”

“Yeah, but maybe you should call and see if he could join us tonight,” I say she’ll say yes.

“We already tried to make plans for tonight. He has some late meetings or something.”

Caroline doesn’t seem too interested in talking during the rest of our ride to the club. After I park the car, we stand in line, waiting to show our IDs in exchange for an invisible ink stamp.

Once inside, I take in the surroundings. Lining each side of the dance floor are round black booths situated around tall black tables. In the middle of each table is a bright red ashtray, illuminated by a small spotlight. There are people everywhere—dancing, drinking, talking, kissing.
Yes, Caroline and I could get into some trouble tonight.

“Let’s get some drinks, and then see if we can grab a table!” I shout over the music.

Caroline simply nods, and we walk toward the bar.

Friday

I wasn’t too keen on going out tonight. I haven’t seen or talked with Liam much since I had lunch with him on Wednesday. We’re supposed to go on a serious date this weekend, but we haven’t been able to nail down a time that is good for both of us. I know he’s busy with work, so instead of focusing on him, I remind myself to have fun.