Chapter 1
Sea and song, and between the tide and the tune, there was love.
But not yet. Right now, I was sitting in my office chair staring at the tiny clock in the lower right of my computer screen. There were no second or minute hands, but I could feel them ticking away at an achingly slow pace.
“Miss Larkin!”
I jumped at the firm, deep male voice. The owner of the baritone stood in the narrow doorway of my corner cubicle, his dark eyes zeroed in on me like a wildcat about to strike a hunter.
I gave a sheepish smile in return. “H-hello, Mr. Stark. I was just trying to figure out if my screen was going out.”
“And is it?”
“I think I’ll need a few more minutes to figure that out-”
His eyebrows crashed down. “Would that be exactly four more minutes?”
I leaned closer to the screen and squinted my eyes. “I’m not sure. The time really isn’t that clear-”
“I think what’s clear is that you are wasting your employer’s valuable time and money staring at the clock, Miss Larkin,” Stark scolded me as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now get back to work or I’ll have to report you to HR.”
My shoulders fell and my face drooped. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”
“Good. Now get back to work.” He slunk out of sight like a vampire finished draining its victim.
That’s how I felt as I turned back to the lifeless screen. I clicked a few tabs at the bottom, and spreadsheets popped up. They were filled with data. Lots and lots of boring data. I punched a few keys and glanced at a piece of paper on the desk beside the keyboard.
“Why don’t they just scan these things in?” I muttered as the keyboards clacked beneath my fingers.
“Don’t tell them that. We’d all be out of jobs.”
I jumped at the voice and spun around to find a young man of twenty standing in the doorway. He draped his arm over the wall and grinned at me. “Hey there, lovely. You’re looking a little tired.”
I rolled my eyes and swung back to the screen. “Thanks, Michael.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he insisted as he strolled up to my side. He set a hand atop the paper and leaned in to catch my eye. “What do you say about a dinner?”
I tapped a finger against his hand. “I’d say I’m not hungry, now could you please move your hand? I’m trying not to get fired here.”
He removed his hand, but kept his close position to me. “What about breakfast tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”
“I have a late night gig.”
“That reminds me, you haven’t sung for me like you promised.”
I stopped and rolled my eyes before I looked up at him. “That’s because I never promised you that. You just think I did.”
“Well, a man can dream, can’t he? Besides, I heard you’re pretty good.” He plopped his arms on the desk. “Why don’t you tell me where you’re singing tonight and I can go watch?”
“I don’t think I’ll sound that good,” I warned him as I wrapped a hand around my throat. I coughed and forced my voice to sound raspy. “I’m having trouble talking, so I’ll sound even worse singing.”
His lips curled back in a twisted terror and he scuttled away from me. “Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you go home?”
“I will as soon as that clock strikes five,” I assured him as I returned my gaze to the clock in the lower right corner.
The numbers showed 4:59. So close and yet so far.
Please. Please let me out of here.
