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“Guess we should actually do this properly,” Lydia said, shaking it.
“Throwing your coffee at someone isn’t how you normally greet them?”
“There was no throwing of any kind,” she argued as they started down the hall together.
“That’s true. You mostly just poured coffee all over your shoes.”
“It was actually a raspberry chai latte, which my sister kindly bought for me.”
“Well, that changes things,” Luke said. “Here I was thinking you were just clumsy, but now I see you were trying to find a convenient way to get rid of your drink.”
“Are you calling my drink order gross?”
“If the drink sleeve fits.”
Lydia gaped at him in what he thought was mock offense. “Let me guess. You’re a one-cup-of-black-coffee kind of guy.”
“Every morning.”
“I’m not sure this partnership is going to work out. I don’t trust people who drink their coffee black.”
“I’m not sure I trust people who top their drinks with cold foam,” Luke said. “But I’m willing to look past it if you are.”
“Well, how can I say no to that?” Lydia said.
“You can’t.” Luke swung a door open for her. “Look, I even open doors for my clients.”
“How chivalrous.”
“I take my moral character very seriously. Now, if you’ll just step into my office.”
Lydia breezed by him. “Isthis your office?” she asked, picking up the scrunchie on the corner of Jules’s desk.
“Technically no.” Luke plucked the scrunchie from her hand and returned it to the desk. “But mine’s under construction, so Jules is letting us borrow hers for the consultation.”
Lydia took a seat across from him as Luke booted up the computer. While he was waiting, he looked down at the file Dara had handed him. “All I’ve got written here from the front desk is that you want to start running.”
“That’s the gist of it,” Lydia said.
“Any particular reason?”
“Oh, you know, I woke up one morning and thought ‘today feels like a great day to develop some shin splints.’”
Luke tried not to smirk. “So, you’re just looking to add some exercise to your life?”
“Absolutely not.” Lydia pretended to shiver.
“What’s the real reason then?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
“Try me.”
“My firm is going to be running the New York City Marathon for charity, and for some ridiculous reason, that may or may not involve a workplace crush,” she muttered, “I put my hand up when they were asking for volunteers.”
