Social media took care of my anxiety on days I didn’t run.
From the far corner of the table, a photograph of my mother was smiling at me. My lips twitched.
My landline blared, cutting into my calm like a motorist on steroids.
Who could that be? This wasn’t an internal call. I cast a glance around me. The editorial was moving at a glacial pace. The office was empty when I arrived a little before 10 a.m., but there had been a considerable spill of people since.
‘Hello,’ I said. I was breathing heavily.
‘Are you okay?’ It was Ravi. He sounded worried. I reached for my mobile instinctively. I had three missed calls. All from my boyfriend. My phone was on silent and inside my tote.
‘Where have you been?’
I’m not a fan of that question. Only my mother was allowed to pin me down like that, but even she didn’t get an answer. It was an unfair tackle. Ravi’s tone, as always, was sweet concern.
‘My phone was on silent.’
‘Where are you?’
‘You are calling my landline.’
Ravi laughed, and I joined him.
‘Welcome back!’ Ravi had been travelling on work the last couple of weeks.
‘I’m around your office. Are you up for a coffee?’
I had been ready for coffee ever since I parked my bum on my seat an hour ago, but I was too lazy to get up and make it happen. Reasons to get that first shot of espresso in you before the day surges ahead. Crimes can be committed.
‘Good,’ I said, standing up immediately.
Ravi wasn’t big on the chain outlets scattered around Morning Herald Towers. He had joined me once at my favourite coffee shop, Perky Grace. It was located at the helm of Church Street, some 800 metres from my office. It was semi-outdoor, the tables were nicely spaced, and stone benches and star jasmine vines gave it a garden party vibe. The brewers are sturdy, and the servers are gentle. The bakery will make it to my crime series one day.
Let’s just say Ravi liked the coffee and not the cup. Too public, he called their space. He preferred his five-star privacy. Every time, thereafter, he drove me to the coffee shop of a luxury hotel some five minutes from my office.
As I walked out of my cabin, I heard my name being called. I winced.
It was white-tee day today; no blue or hoodie of any other hue, I gathered.
‘I was coming around to your cabin,’ Andrew said, walking up to me. I wished he would sit down and not walk.
I nodded. This was bad timing. Not the coffee but his wanting to come around to my cabin.
‘Work?’ I asked, grinding my feet to the ground. What else could it be:Myra? Your dating plans?
Andrew laughed.
‘Where are you going?’ Andrew asked.
Boundaries. I blinked to buy time.
I was going to get a coffee but not really just get a coffee. Andrew was not my boss. He may have been in a super senior position, but we were not in college.
‘I’m going to get a coffee.’
‘You’ve only just got to work.’
He was questioning me. And because I hadn’t logged in, he was assuming I had just arrived at my workstation.
