Odd.
Even the framed picture of Willow isn’t sitting on it anymore.
Did he go on a vacation too?
I settle in to tackle the mountain of emails that have accumulated during my absence. Each new message feels like a mini-battle, but I’m determined to conquer them all.
It’s so good to be back working. At one point, I wasn’t sure if I ever would.
Just as I’m getting into my stride, the door swings open, and Dr. Cockwomble saunters in. His presence is like a dark cloud descending over my morning. “Well, well,” he drawls, his usual smug expression firmly in place. “What a surprise to see you back. I was getting worried you might not return.”
I bristle at his tone but keep my voice even. “I was just on vacation, Dr. Langley. I simply changed the dates.”
He perches on the edge of my desk, invading my space as he always does. “Is that so?” he says, reaching out to grasp a lock of my hair between his fingers.
Is he fucking serious?
Something in me snaps. I stand abruptly, crossing my arms over my chest. “My vacation was approved. Is there anything we need to discuss with HR about this?”
Langley seems taken aback by my sudden assertiveness. He stands, too, but I find myself looking down at him, a small thrill of satisfaction running through me as I watch him squirm.
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, but I can clearly see how he’s thrown off balance. “But with Hendricks quitting so suddenly, anything seemed possible.”
My ears prick up at that. “Hendricks quit?” I ask, momentarily forgetting my resolve to stand my ground.
Cockwomble huffs, “Haven’t heard yet? And it’s interesting that the AI Department was absent during the same period you were away, yet they returned this morning. Are you collaborating with them? You know it’s against protocol to work with other departments without the department leader’s permission.”
I don’t give a fuck about what he thinks I’m doing, but what I’m worried about is Hendricks.
Is that why Willow just quit her fish-sitter job out of the blue?
“Whydid Hendricks quit?” I ask.
“Personal reasons. Anyway, he left us with a lot of work, and your absence didn’t help matters. So, I would say there is some overtime in order to pick up the slack.” And with that, he retreats, leaving me alone with my whirling thoughts.
Just before lunch, my phone buzzes with a text from Misha.
Misha
Hey, Bug. Ready for lunch?
I glance at the mountain of emails, still demanding my attention, and sigh.
Probably going to be late. So much to catch up on.
A little while later, the door to my office swings open with a creak, and Misha, Grey, and Oliver pile in, their arms laden with an assortment of snacks—packs of chips and Twizzlers. They make themselves comfortable, settling into the cramped space as if it were their second home. Grey commandeers Hendricks’ chair, spinning it once before plopping down, while Oliver perches himself on the edge of my desk, his long legs stretched out before him.
Misha leans in to plant a soft kiss on my cheek, pressing a pack of Twizzlers into my hand with a wink.
“Thank you,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips as warmth blooms in my chest. “What are you lot doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Yeah, but we missed you.” Misha shrugs, his dark curls bouncing with the movement. “Can’t a guy just want to see his girlfriend?”
Girlfriend.
The flutter in my chest almost makes me nauseous.
“Since Hendricks is gone, maybe one or all of us could come work here,” Grey chimes in, his voice tinged with that familiar dry humor as he tears open a packet of chips with a satisfying pop. The salty aroma fills the air, making my stomach rumble traitorously.
