Dustin stops by our cluster of desks and raps on the wall again. "Hey, happy hump day."
"Oh, hey." I smile and wave. "Same to you. How's it going?"
"Good, good. Listen, I wanted to get your opinion on something—do you think you'll have time later this afternoon?"
"Yeah, sure. Send me the meeting invite. My calendar is pretty open today." I look down at my coffee mug and frown at how empty it is.
"Oh, you need a fill-up?" Dustin walks over and grabs my mug. "Do they have brown sugar here? I haven't checked."
"Yeah, Helen—the office manager, you've met—stocks it for me. It's on the bottom shelf in the cabinet to the left of the sink. Thanks!" I smile, and he salutes me before walking away.
"So…" Darrell pipes up. "He knows how you like your coffee? That's interesting. Don't you think that's interesting, Andrea?"
"Extremely." She nods. "Felicity?"
"Just so very interesting."
"Oh my god." I drop my head into my hands. "You guys are impossible."
"I think it's very normal for us to make observations based on the evidence presented." Darrell grins. "And the evidence shows that helikesyou."
"Jesus, God. He's being kind. Wouldn't you prefer that to the alternative?" I throw my hands up. "Honestly, you're being absurd. You should be happy and showeringme with praise.Wow, thanks, Brooke! Our jobs are so safe! You're an amazing manager!"
"I've also heard you're the best dancer on the planet, but that remains to be seen." Dustin reappears with a fresh cup of coffee at theworsttime.
My teammates gasp and collectively whip their heads around to stare at me. He has the worst timing. My cheeks flush a tomato-red (I'm sure), and I drop my head down to my desk with a groan. Felicity's already typing up a storm—her acrylics clack against the keyboard in averysatisfying way—and I hear the messenger ping across Andrea's and Darrell's laptops.
"Did I, uh… say something wrong?" Dustin asks as he gently sets down the coffee cup right next to where I'm hiding my face.
"No," I grumble. "The team is getting a little carried away with their conspiracy theories."
"Is it because I didn't get anyone else coffee?" he whispers.
"Now that I think about it," Darrell interjects. "Icoulddo with a refill."
Tilting my head up from my desk, I shoot Darrell a glare. He smiles innocently and offers his empty mug to Dustin, who chuckles and takes it. Felicity and Andrea are not-so-subtly messaging up a storm. Maybe Dustin and I should pretend we hate each other again. Although, nowthat the team's seen him being nice, they would probably have theories aboutthatas well.
A few hours later, my meeting reminder dings at me, and I pop up from my desk like a pogo stick. I unplug my laptop and attempt to disappear unnoticed, but Darrell's polite fake-cough stops me.
"Gonna go see your boyfriend?" he asks with a shit-eating grin.
"Oh, yeah," I reply sarcastically. "We're gonna make out super hard. Right up against the glass and everything. Want me to invite Nora from HR, really start a party?"
He raises his hands in defeat. "Sorry, sorry. It just seems like there's something going on there."
"Like I said." I flash him a sickeningly sweet smile. "I'm the best manager ever, and you are so lucky to have me."
"Point taken, boss-lady."
The walk to Dustin's conference room is short. He's deep in concentration with a crease between his brows. I linger in the hallway and watch as he exhales heavily and brings his arms back behind his head. Even through his button-down shirt and Patagonia vest, it looks like he's been working out.
Woof, I need to calm myself down. This is mywork. A place ofbusiness.
"Hey, hey!" I sing out as I sweep into the room.
"Oh, thank god." He rubs his eyes and huffs out an exasperated sigh. "First, hi. Second, are you still good with pivot tables?"
"Am I still good with pivot tables?" I scoff and slide into the chair on his right. "Is that a real question?"
