“Connor,Sam, Jesus,” Carrie whines, pulling away from me. “Everytime.”
“Whatever,” she says. Connor’s name is of no interest to her. “What’s happening there?”
“Currently? Nothing. I haven’t heard from him,” I tell them.
Carrie’s face speaks volumes. “At all?”
“Not since I got fired. He ignored my last message.”
I watch as Carrie and Sam both quietly work to put a positive spin on this, but they’re both grasping at straws.
“Maybe he’s really sick,” Carrie suggests. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.”
“Or maybe I ruined everything and he doesn’t want to talk tome?”
“I don’t know,” she says uncertainly. “He was really upset about firing you. He honestly seemed devastated.”
“Read me the text,” Sam orders. “What’s the last thing you said to him?”
I pull out my phone and read it to her. She makes a face.
“I wouldn’t reply to that either.”
“Sam.”
“What? It’s true. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you, why give him warning? Just go now.Makehim talk to you.”
“Oh yeah, like you made me talk to you?” Carrie says, raising an eyebrow ather.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Sam fires back.
I am forgotten while some shared memory passes between them. The way they’re looking at each other is lascivious.
But maybe Sam has a point. Why leave it to chance? I know exactly where he’ll be rightnow.
I glance at my phone, then stand, an idea forming.
“Carrie,” I tell her. “I need to borrow your keycard.”
Thirty-Five
What seemed like a brilliant idea twenty minutes ago feels like an act of absolute insanity now that I’m in the Taskio lobby. What exactly is my plan here?
I briefly imagine it, letting the scene play out in my mind’s eye. I approach his desk and sayhello here I am, I have turned up without an invitation to tell you I love you,only for him to look through me and go:sorry, I’m just about to get on a call.
I quake at the thought, but don’t stop moving. If Connor wants to send me away, fine. But he’s going to have to look me in the eye to doit.
I swipe Carrie’s keycard and slip through the barriers with my sunglasses on and my head down. I feel like a fugitive on the run. It’s a completely unnecessary precaution, as it turns out. I ride the elevators alone and make it all the way to Data Strategy without a single person even looking up as I pass.
My heart sinks when I round the corner. Connor’s desk is empty. The only two people here are Martin and John, side by side with their backs to me, living in their own little universe, as per usual.
Martin jumps when I place a hand on his shoulder.
“Jesus, Annie! Always with the jump scare.”
My lips twitch. “Sorry.”
“Hey, Annie,” John says, greeting me like a long-lost friend. His brain catches up with him a few beats later. “Hold on. What are you doing here?”
