Chapter 7: Abrasions

Friday

The rest of the week flew by because I didn't have to see Mr. Leoné. He was out visiting clients or working from home. But my peace of mind vanished on my last meeting on Friday afternoon.

I sat in the meeting room beside Renee and Chris. On the other side of the table sat Baddone, Willoughby, and Leoné on the other side. Mr. Leoné chose the seat across from me.

I checked the time on the dock on my desktop. I waited for the next minute to tick, assuming and counting down how many seconds until the next minute. There was still half an hour left of the meeting. Too long to be sitting across from the man I could still feel on my wrist. This was ridiculous. I rubbed my lower lip and floated my attention above the screen.

Damn. Mr. Leoné looked away from my mouth the second I caught him. Being a woman, I was no stranger to a man's lingering eye. But I didn't see what I did. Surely, I over thought it. I couldn't trust my mind while I failed to sleep regularly. With a general fog around my head, I imagined more deceptively. Mr. Leoné was not interested in me. He was merely assertive and tactile. And I felt my exhaustion catching up with me.

At the start of the afternoon, Renee walked back and forth and fast down the cubicle aisles. She was excited over a recent package delivery. I curved around and glanced into her office to see her and Ms. Ruth hovering around a decent size box. I eventually overheard it was full of phones and tablets for testing.

"Ada!" Renee called from her office.

I entered, and she smiled, "First, we have testing devices now, which means YOU have testing devices. Second, I need you to do me two lazy favors."

Excited, I asked her what she needed.

"Can you make a couple of copies of this invoice to Mr. Leoné and Ms. Baddone?" Then she waved a manilla folder. "And then give this to Mr. Leoné. He's been especially waiting for this today."

"Sure, no problem!"

No! I almost went the rest of the week without having to talk to Mr. Leoné face-to-face after our last encounter. I told myself over and over it meant nothing, but it still confused me. I held my fake smile until I turned my back and veered to the right for the above waist high copy, print, scan, and fax machine. Then I proceeded down the office hall. I swayed to the right, checking if Mr. Leoné was behind the slender window. I couldn't tell, but I did a double-take on my immediate left. Mr. Willoughby's left his door cracked open with the light on. But he wasn't inside. It was a non-issue to me until I continued and saw him inside Baddone's office. He paced with one hand on his hip and the other waving around as he spoke with fervor. Baddone sat at her desk, typing as though Willoughby was not there. Truthfully, her general nonchalance was humorous from this far. But I had to disturb the safety of my distance with a knock.

Baddone's eyes darted to the window, and Willoughby skirted to a halt. She gestured I enter, and I held up the paper.

Quietly, I announced, "I have an invoice copy for you."

I inched past Willoughby's flat stare, and Baddone took the paper. She glanced at it. "Merci (Thank you.)"

"De rien. (You're welcome.)" Eager to get out of there, I pointed my heels to the door.

"Est-ce que tu parles françois? (Do you speak French?)"

I swirled back around, and murmured, "Un peu (A little.)

She bit the inside of her lip and "Trés bien (Very well)" she nodded. "You may go."

I closed the door behind me and exhaled with bugged eyes. That wasn't as awkward as I thought, but it was still intense. My curiosity peaked, remembering how dismissive Mr. Leoné was with her. Surrounded by him and a canker sore like Willoughby, I'd wear a hard mask too.

"Ms. Young?" I looked to the right, and the one and only Mr. Leoné sped near holding a familiar plastic bag.

"Right on time," I chirped and took a glance at his bag. It was his lunch. "I have a delivery for you."

"Okay, come in." He looked into Baddone's office before opening his office. I slapped the folder to my chest and hovered near the door.

Mr. Leoné quickly closed the door behind. With a quirked brow, I looked at the door before him. "I'm just dropping this off on behalf of Renee."

He nodded and held his attention on my face. There was something off about him. A particular and defining character trait was missing, and I wasn't sure how to interpret it. His eyes felt lighter like a dark wall had disappeared. He didn't look happy either, but present.

I stretched the side of my lower lip and extended the invoice and folder to him. I preferred the thawed version of him, but his silence was discomforting. Bad things happened when he was quiet for too long.

"Merci (Thank you)," he whispered.

"De rien (You're welcome)."

His attention lingered on my face before forced air from his nose and returned to his desk. Dammit. What was going on? It was difficult to be unaware of everything he did, from how he smelled to how he looked at me. I tried to walk out of his office, repeating to myself that it was nothing.

"How are you, Ada?"

I released the door handle and turned around. No, no, no! Did he just call me by my name? I shouldn't have felt the flutters in my stomach, and I shouldn't have wanted to hear it again.

He stood behind his desk with loose fists to his sides. I watched his thumbs brush across his knuckles. I answered quietly. "I'm okay."

He lowered his gaze and pointed his nose. "Your hands look better."

I raised and twisted my hands with a grin. "Yeah."

"C'est très bien (That's very good)," He nodded.

Ooh, Jesus...

I paced my breaths. "How are you, Mr. Leoné?"

His brows flashed. "Je vais bien, merci. (I'm well, thank you.) Que fais-tu, ce week-end? (What are you doing this weekend?)"

I looked at the ground. "Uh. Je sors avec Chris et Renee (I'm going out with Chris and Renee). Et toi? (And you?)"

He confirmed my suspicions from a week ago. "Je travaillerai. (I'll be working.)"

The conversation was too normal, and I didn't know what to do with this version of him. But I felt pain and even guilt. Talking to him, I was both present yet traveling back in time. My heart sank more, realizing the last time I spoke to Andre it was all in English. There was officially no intimacy left between us. I closed my eyes as it hit me.

We're over.

✧ ✧ ✧

Saturday

In the morning, I woke up to a soft paw attaching my nose. I opened one eye and didn't see anything, but then Cinna Buns popped up from the edge and pawed my mouth. She was out of sight again, meowing sadly because breakfast was long overdue.

"I'm sorry," I groaned, looking at the time on my phone before seeing the few texts from Chris and Renee.

I replied, letting them know I made it back home alive as I rolled out of bed and opened up my bedroom door. Cinna Buns sped out and into the kitchen, but I froze in my doorway.

What were two luggages doing in the...

"Greta?!" I shouted with a smile.

"Ada! You're up!" I heard in the room beside mine, and Greta hurried from her bedroom. There she was, fresh-faced and tanned.

My best friend was finally back. Her brown eyes hid behind a natural, attractive squint and partially covered by her fair and wavy bangs to shoulder-length hair. She was about to give me a hug, but skidded to a stop to look straight at my rack on full display in a luxury bra. We matched in height, but her skinnier pear-shape under a maxi dress while my goods were out in the open.

Greta laughed. "Oh my God... you have company."

"No girl, I still sleep like this." Well, usually without the bra, but the exhaustion won last night, and I felt the consequences of uncomfortable indents along my upper body. I went to pair a large shirt to my pajama bottoms before hurrying back to her and accepting the delayed hug.

"How was vacation with the family?" I asked, walking into the kitchen while Cinna Buns circled my feet.

"Oh my God, it was amazing. Paris... Paris!" she swooned. "I've needed a vacation so bad and everything about it was perfect."

I've had my dose of the French as well.

I chuckled, "I am sure. But I don't think George would want to hear that."

She swatted at the air and shrugged, "Like he doesn't get to travel for work all the time. Plus, the best part about traveling for long is the sex when he finally gets home."

Doubt it, but I support you anyway, girl. Though disgusted, I concurred with a nod and saw her checking her phone.

"He's coming over soon, isn't?" I twisted my nose. Despite him putting a smile on Greta's face, I wasn't his biggest fan.

"You bet. It's been over two weeks. I need it," she hissed through her teeth.

"Greta, no!" I pouted. "I wanted to talk to you first before a 'DD'."

I need help with Andre and my confusing but sexy boss!

"You know how important a 'Dick Delivery' is, A. You don't understand... there were so many attractive men there. Mmm, French men. If I wasn't in love with George..." her eyes rolled back in onset desire. And I rolled back in time to yesterday. God, Mr. Leoné screwing around with my moist meter. I may have drifted off into a fantasy or two last night. His spacious office influenced a plethora of ideas. I was way more flexible in these fantasies.

"So, how is that job going?" Greta asked, finishing a text.

Crap! I tugged my lips to one side, barely showing excitement, "It's great. I'm already working directly with the owner."

And getting mixed signals.

"Oh, look at you! You'll be an executive in no time!" she exclaimed, definitely overshooting my own expectations.

"Not so sure about that, Greta, but thanks," I sighed, walking out of the kitchen and leaning against the wall.

There was an urgent knock at the door. I narrowed my eyes and wrinkled my mouth. Greta rushed to the door, and that was my cue to disappear into the bedroom. At least she would have fun, while I would do my best not to think about the particularly confusing men in my life.

Laptop opened, and headphones go in... now. 

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What do you think about the exchange between Ada and Mr. Leoné? You know what was going on in Ada's head but what do you think was going on in his?

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Chapter 8 Releases - 3/19/2020