“Sure.” The smile she pastes on is slightly crooked. “Thank you… for all of this.”
I nod, collecting my tools so that I don’t have to look at her, so I don’t have to deny myself again. “Text me if anything shifts or falls off the wall.” I joke but it comes out curt.
“I will.”
At the door, I pause, fighting the urge to say something, anything that doesn’t make it more awkward. She stands in the middle of her apartment that now looks like a home, bare toes curled into the rug, eyes bright and uncertain, and I want to cross the space and wreck both of us.
“Good night, Hailey.”
But I don’t. I told myself years ago I was done making selfish decisions that only end up hurting everyone, so I get the hell out. I pull the door shut, lean my shoulder into the opposite wall, and let my head fall back.
“She’s my sister’s best friend,” I mutter to the ceiling… But it doesn’t sound convincing at all.
CHAPTER 8
Hailey
Loneliness hits different when you’ve had a taste of company in your new apartment.
And I don’t mean the fake kind, the office small talk about snow tires and where to get the best tacos. I mean the kind where a man with work-rough hands braces a bookshelf with one arm and my entire nervous system with the other. Then leaves before I can decide if I imagined the way his body pressed to mine.
By Monday, I’ve got an outline of a routine in place, something that always makes me at least feel a little better. Alarm at six thirty. Coffee strong enough to peel paint the second my eyes open. Sunscreen like I live on the actual sun because apparently Colorado decided winter should come with UV rays so strong you can get sunburned in January. Thankfully, though, with that sun comes warmth so by midafternoon, the puffy jacket you wore to work feels like it’s going to melt you.
My badge beeps when I scan it at security, and I ride an elevator with a guy who has a standing desk attachment under his arm. Yet another thing I’m slowly learning about Denver; they take their physical fitness very seriously.
My office sits on the fourth floor which is an open floor plan of a sea of standing desks. There’s a wreath hung on thewhiteboard and someone stuck googly eyes on the printer. Two guys in vests hover over an API diagram, arguing softly. The only other woman on my team, Priya, raises a brow over her mug when I introduce myself.
“New girl,” she says with a warm smile. “I’m Priya. Run now while you still can.”
“I’d trip over a standing desk and die,” I deadpan, shaking her hand. She grins and motions me over, showing me where the coffee that doesn’t taste like asphalt is hidden.
“Thank you,” I murmur against the fresh coffee. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Us women have to stick together.”She winks at me. “But seriously, anything you need, you let me know. And don’t let all these boys make you feel nervous. It’s the only time they’re allowed out of their enclosures to interact with the female species.”
We fall into a fit of laughter as she shows me to my desk and explains how it works. My nerves settle a little and I’m instantly excited by the connection Priya and I seem to have.
We pair on a small ticket first. Priya explains their process and approach and then allows me to jump right in and take over.
“Where were you in Chicago again?” A tall, lanky, dark-haired man appears next to me and Priya at my desk. “Zach,” he says without bothering to look at me, his eyes glued to my screen where I’m working.
“Biotech,” another man appears on my left, answering for me.
“Impressive.” Zach whistles.
“It was on her résumé,” the other guy says back before turning to look at me with a serious expression on his face. “Ben, Ben Mitchell Murphy.”
“Nice to meet you, Ben and Zach,” I say, looking at both of them for a second.
“Welcome aboard.” Zach smiles, finally turning to look at me. “Looks like you’re going to keep us on our toes.” He smacks Ben’s back. “Or at least Benny boy here.”
I spend the next hour focused on burning through the tickets that were submitted to the help desk overnight. It’s bitchwork. I know that and everyone else on my team does too, but being the new person, I’m not above it. When I push my first PR, Priya sends a confetti emoji explosion in Slack and the Ben and Zach dogpile with thumbs-up.
At lunch I sit by the window and eat my salad while watching tiny little snow crystals dance among the high-rises. I think about Maddie and our friends back home. It’s a Friday night so I know they’re probably all going to be heading out to celebrate. Loneliness churns in my stomach, stealing my appetite. I snap a photo of the view and push the sadness out of my mind, reminding myself that I still have a lot to prove at this job and I can’t let my emotions get in the way of that. Thankfully, being so focused on picking an insurance plan and making sure payroll has all of my necessary information makes the day fly by.
“Hey, great job today,” Priya says, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Seriously, you’re going to fit right in here, I can already tell.”
“You think so?” I ask hopefully as I gather my things and follow her to the elevator.
