At least, maybe they won’t be if I have a few friends at work.
I hate that I took all those awful feelings out on Vlad and pushed him away when all he wanted was the best for me. The thought of what I’m going to say to Vlad when I see him, if I see him, is starting to dawn on me. I don’t have a plan. Maybe I should have prepared notecards. No, that would just make it clear I don’t know what to say.
The tradeshow is as expected: loud and easy to get lost in. There are escalators leading every which way, and yet none of them seem to be going where I need them to. It’s being hosted in the Endless Symposium Hall, and so the tradeshow map unfolds infinitely. Folding it all back together is a hassle, and what starts as a little trifold pamphlet is now a jumble of paper that is too thick to fit back in my dress’s pockets.
And if I'm going to have to look people in the eyes and shake their hand, it's nice that they hand me a little keychain or stress ball every time. I have ten clicky-pens, two multi-color pens, a laser pointer, and a stress ball shaped like a mini barcode scanner. It is extremely satisfying.
One of the booths has a gimmick where they take your business card in exchange for a tiny latte made fresh there. The quality of coffee is good enough that I go back twice. I can’t say I’m not having just a little bit of fun.
Eventually, I see our company, and I want to run. Distantly, I hear Lily laugh, and Janice talking about something, and I try to find someone’s hand to grab for moral support.
I try not to clench my teeth anxiously, because Dr. Lucille just lectured me about my tooth grinding habits, but it’s hard not to with every step closer to our company’s booth. Before I know it, I’m holding my breath like I’m about to dive underwater.
“No doubt it’s revenge for being relocated to the basement. I mean, it’s not our fault it was available when that nymph decided to make the most dramatic of resignations and their floor got flooded,” Janice is saying, and I start to turn around to look for Kathy. Maybe she’ll let me hold her talons for a moment while I steady myself, and—
My next step is like I walked right into a wall.
I stagger back a step, and a hand catches mine, steadying me. I feel my heart drop in my stomach. I know the warm, leathery feeling of these hands.
Vlad.
When I open my eyes and see him, it breaks my heart a little to see how tired he looks. Maybe I'm imagining it, but there are unfamiliar shadows underneath his eyes, the lines of his face are carved deeper than I remember. I'm not imagining the way his hand tightens around mine.
“Oh,” comes out of my mouth before I can think to hide my surprise.
Kathy strolls up and chirps unhelpfully, “Oh, hey, boss. I told you I got Gwen to take the extra badge, right?”
“You did not,” he says, his eyes becoming a mask of emotion as he looks down upon me. He lets go, and my hand falls back to my side.
Evil Overlord, save me.
I've been just kind of standing here in the small aftermath of our collision, as if it were an earthquake. The breath in my chest is like coming up from underwater, returning to the moment where we are.
Of course, Deanna is there.
“Baby girl, you gotta keep your head on a swivel,” she coos. “They really need to implement some traffic rules here.”
“Ideally, your friends would have your back,” I reply, and leave it at that. I don’t care enough about her to want to get her back like Kathy suggested, but one of these days I’ll probably make a point of saying someone else is the nicest person in the office and watch her entire identity crumble around a single comment.
Right now, my attention is more focused on Vlad. He fiddles absently with the cuffs of his sleeves, flexing the hand that caught mine as if to shake off the sensation.
Mistake, mistake, mistake, my heart thuds in my chest.
I grind my teeth a little, as a treat. It doesn't help much.
Vlad looks just a touch wary as he glances to me. I don’t blame him. I don’t know what kind of relationship we have now. Strangers, to awkward acquaintances, to coworkers, to friends with benefits, to nearly romantic. I guess we’re back to just being coworkers again.
He raises a granite eyebrow at the hoard I’ve collected. “Discovering a new taste for handshakes?”
“Um, free pens, mostly.”
“Your inbox is going to be destroyed by tomorrow," he murmurs, a morbid fate if his tone is anything to go by.
I chew my tongue on a response that he’s allowed to destroy my inbox any time he likes, because I should probably get to my apology before I make remarks like that.
“It’s ok, my email address is one letter off on the card. They printed them wrong when I first started working here. I did that on purpose, because I don't actually care about generating leads,” I ramble, because although it feels like a confession of one of the many ways I'm not a great team player or whatever, it's not the important confession and therefore easier to admit to.
He gives a little laugh, and the sound of it makes my heart ache. I look away quickly, so that the pain doesn’t show too evidently on my face.
