“Oh! Yes! That’s where I know you from.” I point myfinger at him. “I’ve been trying to figure out if we’ve ever met before.”
He mocks offense, glancing to the side. “Sure. I’m so forgettable.”
“You’re not. Stop it,” I laugh. “I’m just very bad with faces. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you from before.”
His accusing stare might bring a lesser person to their knees, but I drop my gaze to the floor like a shy wallflower.
“Neither can I.” Then his attitude instantly changes. “Anyway, I used to bring him coffee in the mornings. He was so-o-o,” a roll of his eyes, “stiff; it was uncomfortable to walk around him. For real. He couldn’t crack a joke to save his life. I wasn’t sure if he even possessed a sense of humor. So when I saw you,” his finger this time points at me, “I thought he could use some crazy in his stuffy life.”
“Crazy?” I raise my pierced brow.
“Girl, it’s me, alright. Yes, crazy. And my plan worked.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What exactly did you do?”
“I just stopped bringing him coffee, so he had to go and get his own. Where he met you, the wild card he was missing in his perfectly arranged deck.” His face is shining with pride and glee. Someone should take a picture.
“So you are my fairy godmother?” I can’t help but chuckle.
He rises to his feet and curtsies quickly. “At your service, child.”
“Thank you. Really, thank you.” Then I think for a moment and add with a wince, “And sorry about the building.”
He waves me off with the mischievous smile of someone who’s not really upset with what has happened. “Yeah, I did not see that one coming.”
“Speaking of buildings.” I slowly lift the paper in the air, waiting for the standing ovation. “I’ve got a solution.”
His eyes go round. “You did not.”
“Did too.” I shake the paper, still waiting for my appreciation.
“Is that what I think it is?”
I give the paper a dramatic air kiss. “The permit.”
“The permit,” Martin parrots with a wide smile. When he snaps out of it, he runs around the table and rushes me toward Ezra’s office. “Go, fix that moody issue over there, so we all can go back to peace. I’ll put my headphones on. Don’t be shy,” he adds with a wink, pulling the drawer of his desk open.
With a quiet laugh, I throw the permit into my bag and push the door open. But when I see Ezra’s eyes staring back at me, it dies out. He doesn’t look happy to see me at all. It’s the opposite. His eyes narrow at the first sight of me, and his nostrils instantly flare like a bull.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too, husband.”
He flinches at me using the word, and I feel myself frowning in confusion. What happened? Why has hechanged so much? I thought he loved calling me his wife and loved being called my husband.
“What do you need?” He keeps his voice gruff and unwelcoming. Nasty even. And I’ve had enough.
“What’s wrong with you?”
His jaw starts moving from side to side—he’s contemplating if he should say something. Sothere issomething to say.
Squaring my shoulders, I begin my angry stride toward him to face this asshole of a husband and find out what’s happening once and for all.
While passing his desk, I accidentally bump into its corner and move a stack of papers on the side. The whole thing slides to the floor. This is not how I imagined our standoff to look like, but it’s very typical of me to bump into unsuspected corners and make myself look like an idiot.
“Sorry,” I mumble and start collecting the papers from the floor. He joins to help, gesturing for me to stop.
They are on the floor because I’m a klutz, so I keep gathering and putting them back on the desk, trying to make them appear neat just like they were before my interference. “Sorry,” I mumble again, feeling stupid about my lack of grace.
