He found his Camry. Dark blue, six years old, vaguely out of place among
the sprinkle of Mercedes and BMWs.
He got in, closed the door, reviewing the interview.
For about three minutes. Then, as he had about six times on the trip here, he
got out his phone and punched up the map.
The Garman Group was already listed with a gold star, south of his current
location.
He put the phone down and sighed. He hadn't texted Kate he was going to be
in Chicago for the interview. He didn't want her to think he was stalking her or
something. Or that he was looking at this job just to be near her.
He didn't want her to think that, but he wasn't so sure himself.
No, this was about his career. Just like she was working on her career. If he
didn't shake the branches, see what was out there, how would he ever know if
there wasn't something better?
He chewed the side of his tongue, nodding, thinking. Yes. How would he know?
Kate had even encouraged him to interview for the job.
He started the car, put it in gear, then touched an icon on his phone, setting it
face up on the console.
His map app chirped cheerily. “Twenty-six minutes to Garman Group.”
* * *
Kate sipped her coffee absentmindedly as she walked down the hall back to her
office, scanning notes in one hand. It was mid-Friday afternoon, but she still had a lot to do before she could head home. And not just the Nitrovex proposal.
Milly had informed her that morning that one of her previous clients wanted additional branding for their website.
She pushed open her door with her foot, still studying the notes. By next Thursday? No way…
The harsh grind of an electric pencil sharpener jolted her gaze up. There, sitting at her desk, in her chair, was Peter.
“I used to have one of these,” he said, examining the point of a newly sharpened pencil as if it were a diamond. “Then a student thought he'd stick a pen in it.” He looked up, smiling.
She almost dropped her mug. “Oh, geez! What in the world are you doing here?”
He was wearing a crisp button-down white shirt that hugged his wide
shoulders, and a thin striped purple tie. She moved to the desk, dropping her papers on the corner. Coffee could wait, and she didn't need the caffeine anymore, anyway. Her heart was beating overtime.
He stood, walked to the windows, putting his hands on the ledge. “Just came
to see how the other half lives. Nice view. Are those real live pigeons?”
Her heart was still flip-flopping. Peter? Here? “What…did Milly let you in?”
He turned, his eyes dancing, and nodded. “Nice girl. Slipped her a five to let
me sit in your chair. Very comfortable. I like that lumbar-support thing.”
She joined him at the window, knees still a little wobbly. Peter, here. In her
office. She looked around quickly. Was it a mess? No, not too bad. How was her
hair? She should have worn her new Michael Kors dress…
“Sorry, I should have called,” he said.
“Yes, I think so,” she said, but not angrily.
He folded his arms. “But, I thought, I was in town anyway, so why not stop by?”
