“But, like, what are the odds of randomly unlocking a security panel I’ve never seen before? It’s gotta be astronomical,” I ask her again as we head toward the elevator. It’s mostly to change the subject, so we’re not leaving on the weirdest vibe possible.
She waves her employee ID at the badge panel, eventually slapping it against the thing to get the light to turn green and the doors open.
“I don’t disagree with you, I just don’t have an answer,” she says as we step inside. So much for getting help from IT.
I sigh and settle for taking my frustrations out on my iced coffee, giving it a vigorous and borderline unnecessary shake. I’m beyond tired of dead ends that make me feel like I’m right back where I started. I’m going in fucking circles.
She hits one of the buttons for the executive level by accident, but the panel buzzes red, denying access. She rolls her eyes and punches the correct button after and turns her attention back to me.
“Hey, I’m sorry I—” Adrianna starts to say, and I shake my head.
“No, don’t be. It’s...” I hedge against just saying “fine.” It’s clearly not.
The elevator slows after a couple floors, reaching the building lobby, so she nods. “Ok. Good.”
As much as I love her, I’m a little relieved to exit our conversation. Everything feels like a lot right now. I just don’t have a lot of emotional bandwidth to spare for this wonderful new information about how literally everyone I know thinks they know better than me about how to handle my love life.
The doors open to let us out, and my stomach clenches when I see Clayton standing there. He looks mildly surprised to see me too.
“Lacey! I was just on my way up to your desk. I had an interview earlier.”
“Oh, um, you should have let me know, I would have made some room in my schedule,” I pretend to offer, hoping the implication that I have somewhere to be is enough to sidestep him. I step out into the building lobby, my boots clipping briskly against the glossy tile floors.
He nods understandingly.
I can feel Adrianna’s stare on the side of my face as Clayton gives us both a quick nod and answers a call on his phone, stepping away from the elevator. I have to talk to Clayton. I know, I know, she’s right. I have to talk to him.
“Actually, one second,” I say to her, and duck out after him.
I catch up to where Clayton is pacing one end of the lobby. “Once this lawsuit is settled, I want his—”
“It’s been five months,” I call out to Clayton, the words almost leaping out of me.
He stops several feet away from me, and after a beat, exits the call on his phone and turns around.
“Since we broke up,” I clarify, like he had an equal interest in splitting up. I don’t know, maybe if I keep saying “we” he’ll think it was also his idea.
Clayton’s eyes flick around the busy lobby, before he crosses to me and puts a hand on my back, steering me toward a secluded corner. “Lacey, what on earth—”
“You’ve been putting it off,” I tell him, swallowing. I stop in my tracks, not letting him lead me a step further. It ends here, now. No more waiting.
Clayton’s brows knit together, his mouth a hard line. There’s a tension in the hand he has on my arm. “If you insist on doing this now—I was just making a call to the mayor about puttingtogether a task force to investigate the ooze. I was telling him about your findings.”
I wince. I didn’t know that. Instantly, I feel like an idiot for ambushing him with this. “...You were?”
His hand on my upper arm travels down, finding my hand to squeeze it, looking deep into my eyes. “Yes. Your work is so incredibly important. We need to know where the ooze is coming from, and you’ve put so much into this. I am relying on you.”
I blink at him, confused. I didn’t know he valued my investigation so much. “And you were talking to the mayor about this?”
“Of course. We’re taking this all the way to the top,” he says, nudging my chin with his knuckle. I attempt a weak smile because that’s the response to our little joke, but I feel a little queasy trying.
I swallow, my eyes falling to the floor.
Suddenly, the defiance that had propped me up feels terribly flimsy. I can’t just assume he was being malicious. If I didn’t realize it had been that long, he likely didn’t either. The last several months have been full of fraught, hectic moments. He’s been so focused on protecting the city and helping my investigation, how heartless could I be to expect more from him?
“I suppose I overlooked the distance we should have been putting between us,” he continues, squeezing my hand. His eyes drift away from me with a far-off look, and he shakes his head with a self-deprecating smile. “We just work together so well.”
Slowly, I nod, not sure if I agree.
