Chapter 13: My Turn

Come Monday, I felt irritated. I mean I started off in a decent mood before I walked into the building, but my attitude turned sour once I learned he wasn't at work. I had questions I wanted to be answered, or I wanted to prove to myself that what I did on Sunday was harmless.

I don't feel bad about it! I swear. It was a harmless fantasy. Harmless!

Tuesday, he was in, but he was in meetings all morning, only one that I was in attendance of. The few times I did speak, I saw his eyes raise from the work, but his attention was lost on his laptop screen much sooner than I had anticipated. He was the first to leave the conference room too. For some reason, I felt myself heating up at his fleeting presence. I lost concentration on my work often and found myself asking Renee to repeat herself on multiple occasions during lunch.

"Have you noticed anything different about Mr. Leoné?" I asked abruptly.

Renee looked up from her taco bowl and looked around. "Hmm, yeah. He's quieter."

"Do you think something's wrong?"

"Maybe. But he's pretty transparent. If you ask him if anything's on his mind, he'll tell you. Unfortunately, that conversation turn brainstorming session tends to lead to more tasks filling up in your queue." She laughed at the end.

So she noticed too. This was a perfect time to test this friendship.

When I returned to my desk, I opened the instant messenger. Forcing myself to open a new window with his name, I messaged him quickly. Do you have a few minutes to talk?

I have about ten minutes before my next meeting. Can we meet afterward? He replied immediately.

Sure!

Puffing air from my mouth, I felt my stomach sink rereading his message. I closed the chatbox and reopened the terminal to recompile the code to run the Best Trader Beta demo. Dreadfully, I watched the percentage of the compiler go up at an alarmingly slow rate– stuck on ten percent. I knew DeShawn and the other developers were working on the updates, but that didn't make the wait any more bearable. A minute passed, and we were at sixty percent now. Hooray?

I swirled around in my chair, waving to Renee and Chris who snickered from afar. They knew the pain of waiting for the product load. I was on my fourth revolution when I paused abruptly at the loud and fast approaching steps. I scooted beyond the wall of my cube to confirm my suspicions.

"Ada," Ezra whispered as he approached my face that harbored surprise. "What's the matter?"

I stood up to push my seat back. Keeping my voice low, I asked, "You didn't come down here because of my message, did you?"

"Yes." He gestured I follow him away toward the elevators, and I shadowed him. We stopped in front of the etched glass logo and he immediately repeated his first question.

"No Ez–" I looked around. "Mr. Leoné, I told you it could wait."

He paused for a few seconds, turning his frown into a tight, little smile. "You can call me by my first name."

"No one else does," I admitted in a whisper.

"I know."

Ugh! There was no fighting the simper raising my cheeks. But I covered my expression with the tips of my fingers as the elevators opened and DeShawn and a few other developers and specialists walked out. Oddly, I was nervous that someone might see me smiling at him, but Ezra called me from my distraction, and I flapped my hand playfully. "I really didn't mean to summon you down here. It wasn't an emergency. Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it?"

His warmth dropped and his eyes were wide with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I swear we can talk later, right?"

"Of course." He checked his watch. "Give me an hour and a half, and you can come to my office."

His office. He raised his brows until I confirmed the arrangements with a nod. I felt much better returning to my desk. Maybe I had a little skip to my step too.

Unfortunately, it took two hours to pass when I was invited to his office and seated across from him. He looked frustrated and kept his eyes from me as he docked his laptop and shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and put it on the back of his chair. A bit gracelessly, he seated himself and faced his computer. Normally, his hands should have hovered over the keyboard. Instead, they covered his face as he let out a loud sigh.

I leaned forward before I leaned back. Air fled my nose harshly. I looked into him again, and stretched my vowels asking, "How are you?"

He lowered his hands to reveal a widened expression. "I'm fine."

I know, it's new territory for me too.

"That's what we say when we're avoiding the real answer, right?" A grin twitched at the ends of my mouth.

I saw his eyes warm up, but he resisted the smile. "Ada, I'm fine."

Now, his fingers were stabbing the keys. He just lied to me. And my clenched jaw working to fight a mild sickness was a sure indicator I did not like that answer. I had a feeling we were about to undo the progress, but this is what I wanted to test. I just knew this wouldn't be as simple.

"Actually, you're not," I said matter-of-factly. "So I would appreciate it if you were a little more honest with me about your feelings."

He looked at me flatly. I shrugged without remorse. "You want my friendship? Well, this is what it looks like."

"I don't want you to worry."

"Well that's what I do, and I'm an anxious person, Ezra."

His expression shifted for the worst when I admitted another truth about myself. Not sure why I was divulging so much about me to him, but it came naturally and I felt no remorse in the moment. I'll have to see how I feel when I'm not in front of him.

He frowned, "Have you eaten?"

"I have." I dodged his deflection. "Have you?"

He turned to face me and folded his arms. His right knuckles were against his lips as he narrowed his eyes and surveyed my face. I couldn't see his leg bouncing, but it gently shook the rest of his body. I don't know what you're thinking or what you're about to say.

To my surprise, he slowly shook his head.

"Well, that's not good. Where is your menu thing?" I asked, scanning the top of his desk.

He didn't move immediately, but after a few seconds, he did pull out a drawer and hand me the iconic menu booklet. I took it, but not without a snarky thanks. Reading the options–the salads, really– I nibbled on my pinky nail and asked, "So what salad do you want today? The usual?"

When my eyes were on him again, he still stared with his curved hand hiding the part of him that made last Sunday very interesting. Again, after a delay, he answered with a small shake of the head.

"You're scaring me," I laughed. "Are you sure? Or are you just being resistant?"

He finally lowered his hand, my attention immediately glued to his mouth. "No, but I don't want you to order for me."

"Uh, too bad?" I folded my brows. "C'mon let's figure out what you're going to eat."

"Ada," he complained.

I matched his tone. "Ezra."

His eyes looked directly into me again, as I didn't hide my irritation. "Listen, I came to check on you... as a casual thing since we came to an agreement last Saturday. And I'd like to go back to my desk soon but I'm not getting up until I've gotten off the phone with the restaurant."

I saw him biting back words, and I put my thumbnail to my teeth. Smiling at him, I waited for his next move.

Immediate relief spread through me, seeing him warm up again. He rubbed his chin, and looked off when he chuckled, "Are you having fun with this?"

Yeah. I covered my giggle that suddenly brought him back to me. It was hard to forget his snap, the first time I laughed in front of him, and I blurted, "Sorry."

"Ne sois pas désolé. (Don't be sorry.)"