Page 28 of So Much More
I carry a notebook and pen so I’ll look like I’m heading to a meeting, in case anyone wonders why I’m roaming the halls. As I approach Randall’s office, I can see his door is open and the light is on. Before I get there, I stop, because I realize I’m giving in to my insecurities by doing this. I need to trust that he truly wants to be with me, regardless of our disagreement this morning. I’m turning around to head back to my office when George Carter, the firm’s owner, exits Randall’s office and nearly bumps into me.
“All right, Wendy?”
“Yes, sir. I realized I forgot something,” I say to explain my turnabout.
“I do it all the time,” he says as he continues down the hallway.
I hurry back the way I came, but before I round the corner several doors down from Randall’s office, someone clears their throat obnoxiously loudly behind me. I’m tempted to ignore it, but since I know who it is, I stop but don’t immediately turn around, so he’ll wonder if I’m going to do so.
When I finally spin toward him, Randall is leaned against the wall outside his office with one leg crossed over the other and his hands in his pockets as if he’s on the set of a Ralph Lauren photoshoot. He’s wearing the navy-blue suit that makes his eyes look like they were God’s inspiration for the sky on a perfect spring day. I order my body not to launch itself down the hall at him.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Hamilton?” I ask.
“I was going to ask you the same thing, Ms. O’Halloran.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm,” he mimics. Then he shrugs, smirks, says, “Okay, then,” and disappears back into his office.
I roll my eyes at the empty hallway and consider whether to follow him in. Of course I can’t resist, but I take my time getting there.
When I step into the open doorway, Randall is sitting in his chair with his feet propped on the desk and crossed at the ankles, and his hands are clasped behind his head. He’s still wearing the smirk from before.
“Think of something you need help with?” he inquires. “A contract? A lawsuit? A plate of fried chicken bigger than your head? A lost orphan girl from Kansas?”
I take two steps into his office and raise an eyebrow at him. “This is you being normal?”
“Tell me one thing I said or did that is out of character for me,” he demands.
When I can’t think of anything, he spreads his arms wide. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case.” He bows his head.
I force myself not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’reridiculous.”
“You’remoreridiculous.”
“Who’s ridiculous?” George’s voice booms from behind me.
My eyes go wide as Randall jerks his feet to the floor and rearranges some papers on his desk.
I slowly turn to face George while Randall says, “No one, sir. We were … uh …”
George chuckles. “At ease, Hamilton. The both of you are ridiculous if you think I haven’t noticed there’s something going on here.” His eyes bounce between the two of us.
My hand goes to my throat, “George …”
He holds a hand up to stop me. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. In fact, I neither need nor want any details. And I don’t care what the two of you get up to as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.” He points his finger at Randall. “And stop calling me ‘sir.’”
Randall nods. “Got it, ssss … George.”
George nods back at him and says, “Carry on, then. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you figuring out which of the two of you is the most ridiculous. Though if you want the opinion of this member of the jury, it’s definitely Randall.”
George steps out and closes the door behind him, and I drop into one of the black leather chairs in front of Randall’s desk.
“Looks like things are good with him, then.” Randall cocks his head at me. “Why’d you come down here?”
There’s no reason to skirt the truth, so I admit, “To see you.”
