She all-out laughs. Magma says something else, and she laughs again.
Yep, she likes him alright, and I think he likes her right back.
I keep going. For some reason, it’s more difficult than it was earlier. I stop and scrub a hand over my face and sigh.
I’m jealous.
Why am I jealous?
I shouldn’t be.
I pull in a breath through my nose, let it out, and get moving.
I feel like someone rode over me with a truck. Like someone deflated my balloon. I feel sad and depressed.
I’m an idiot.
I need to stop this nonsense and pull myself together. I need to go home to my own space with decent food and my own bed, and I’m sure this heaviness that has been lodged somewhere under my sternum will ease.
Idon’thave feelings for Magma.
Ican’thave feelings for him. Not this quickly.
He saved me. We had sex. It’s some sort of savior syndrome or complex that I have going on. I’m not sure it’s a thing exactly, but it must be.
I’ll get over it soon enough.
I will enjoy my date with Flint on Saturday.
And I will move on with my life.
30
Magma
The elevator opens onto the bullpen floor, and thirty people shout “Surprise!” directly at my face.
I take a step back, and the doors start to close. I put my hand out and stop them, smiling.
All of my admin staff and some of my management team are out there. There are streamers hanging from the overhead lighting rigs, and a banner strung between two support columns that reads “WELCOME BACK!!!” in big gold letters. There’s a table along the far wall with a big-ass cake on it, as well as snacks and cans of soda with paper cups. Silver helium balloons are tied to chairs in big bunches. They really went to town.
I step out of the elevator, and my staff standing in the front row throw confetti all over me.
They start clapping.
I grin. I can’t help it. It’s nice to know I was missed.
“Good to have you back, sir,” Snare yells.
“Welcome home!” Gunner shouts from the other side of the room.
Susan from Filing raises a can of soda in my direction. Jess gives a little wave from the drinks table, where she is pouring herself a soda.
I look at Flint, who is smiling and clapping.
“Whose idea was this?” I ask.
“All of us.” He says it like it’s obvious.
