The middle schooler—Tomeka—enthusiastically nodded at whatever Amy had just said. She raced to the other side of the desk and sat in front of the computer. Samiah looked on like a proud auntie.
She’d ignored him all day. Although Daniel wasn’t sure what he would say if she actuallyhadtalked to him. What about his situation had changed between the moment before he’d kissed her and now? Nothing.
He was still here to do a job that required him to lie to her. A job he shouldn’t allow himself to get distracted from. A job that would possibly be in jeopardy if his superiors found out that he’d kissed her the other night.
The difference, of course, was the DEFCON levels of agony he’d experienced since he’d turned down her invitation to lunch. How had he not realized just how much he would crave her? He’d become as addicted to seeing her smile in the morning as he was to the coffee he no longer allowed himself to have for fear of running into her at the coffee bar.
This is why he needed to concentrate on the job at hand. The sooner he solved this case, the sooner he’d be out of here. And out of this misery. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself. He knew it was naive as hell to think he would just forget about Samiah the moment he left Austin, but he was going with it.
Daniel felt a tap on his shoulder. He lifted his headphones from one ear and looked up at Morgan, who thankfully had halted her pursuit of him.
“What’s up?” he asked her.
She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Amy’s calling you.”
He removed the hoodie and swiveled his chair around toward Amy’s desk. Samiah stood there with an expression he couldn’t quite name. Disinterest, maybe?
“What do you need?” he directed at Amy.
“Tomeka is learning JavaScript. Why don’t you come over and show her the trick you showed me?”
Daniel noticed Samiah visibly stiffen at the suggestion.
Shit.Had he really messed things up so badly that she didn’t even want him around her?
He considered coming up with an excuse so that he wouldn’t ruin her day by invading her space, but they couldn’t avoid each other forever. Their team was set to meet in an hour to discuss progress on the Leyland Group project.
“Sure,” Daniel said. “Give me a sec.” He saved his work then went over to Amy’s, trepidation traveling along his spine as he approached. Samiah remained stoic, her expression unreadable.
“Daniel, this is Tomeka Sanderson,” Amy said. “She’s shadowing Samiah for the day and wants to create video games when she graduates from college.”
“That’s a pretty cool job,” he said. “Which games are your favorites?”
As the girl rattled off an extensive list of popular video games, Daniel tried to get a read on Samiah. She didn’t seem angry, which was a relief. Neither did he sense any acrimonious vibes from her. She seemed…indifferent.
That wasn’t good. Not at all. He’d rather her curse him out or slap him in the face, anything but apathy.
It was no less than he deserved. He’d spent these past few weeks shamelessly flirting with her because she was so fucking smart and beautiful and funny, all the while knowing that nothing could ever come of it. He’d strung her along. Which made him a class-A piece of shit.
He quickly guided Tomeka through JavaScript, then returned to his desk, not wanting to subject Samiah to his presence any longer than necessary.
Their avoidance dance was prolonged yet again after the status update with the Leyland Group project was postponed to Monday. Daniel had remained at his desk all afternoon, his head bent over the keyboard as he counted down the minutes until he could leave. Computer monitors throughout the office systematically went dim as, one by one, his coworkers closed up for the night. Some would be back bright and early tomorrow morning, despite it being the weekend. He would do the same. Maybe tomorrow would be the day he breached Trendsetters’ security and found the break he needed in this case.
He got up for a bottle of water and noticed a glow coming from Samiah’s office. She’d switched the glass-paneled walls to frosted, but he could see her outlined behind the desk.
Should he go to her? Did he even have the right? Why would she entertain anything he had to say after the way he’d blown her off? And why should he try when he knew he could be gone at any minute? It was selfish, bordered on cruel.
Yet, none of that mattered.
Call him selfish, but right now his singular mission was easing the ache that had gripped him and wouldn’t let go. Whether she told him to piss off or found a way to forgive him, he had to at least try to make things right with her.
He went back to his station and locked his computer. Pulling in a deep breath, he started for her office, rapping his knuckles on the door twice when he arrived.
“Come in,” she called.
Daniel entered, but her attention remained focused on the papers strewn about her desk.
“Hey,” he softly called.
