I pulled myself away from the monitor and gave her my full attention. “Sure.”
E: Hey, Beck, Sci-fi is having a Twilight Zone marathon today. Come on over, and we’ll get pizza delivered.
B: Can’t. I have plans.
E: Oh, okay.
“He waited about twenty minutes before sending another one.”
E: Well, when you’re done, feel free to swing by. The marathon ends at midnight.
“Then I waited a couple hours to respond, just like you told me.”
B: Hey, just saw your text. Won’t be able to make it tonight, but maybe next time.
E: What, got a hot date or something? ;)
B: Maybe I do. :p
E: Haha
“Good, so what’s the problem?” I asked.
“Well, he usually texts me every morning with his song of the day… but this morning he didn’t.”
“Did you text him at all?”
“No. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
I waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll text you before the day is over. Tomorrow at the latest.”
Her fingers twisted around the phone in her hands. “What if he doesn’t?”
“He’s just testing you. He wants to see if you notice. When you don’t ask for it, he’ll reach out.”
“Okay,” she said but didn’t seem all that convinced.
“Just be patient. Eli sees you as his safety net, someone who will always be there no matter what. Once he realizes he may lose that, and you’re not at his beck and call, he’ll come around to seeing you in a different light than he did before.”
Crystal poked her head in. “How’s the makeover feature coming along?”
I let out a grunt. “Don’t ask.”
Three more email notifications popped up on my screen. I’d never get through them, the way this day was going.
She plopped down on the chair next to Becky. “Just close your eyes and pick one, that’s probably what Natasha did.”
The thought was tempting, but my work ethic said otherwise. If my name was going to be on that article, I didn’t want it to be a cringe-worthy career mistake.
“You’re doing the makeover feature?” Becky asked. “I didn’t know you were a writer.”
“I’m not, and I don’t want to do it, but Carlos is in a bind, so I’m doing him a favor.”
Becky fiddled with the pen on my desk. “I could help… if you want.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, writing comes easily for me, and you’re helping me out with Eli, so of course, I’ll help.”
