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Nothing.
Her lack of punctuality bothers me for multiple reasons. One is that Brian checked in twenty minutes earlier to let me know Alice arrived safely and it’s only a five-minute trip from the front entrance to the administration level. Two is that the new employees are eyeing me like a feral tiger, and Alice’s presence usually has a calming effect on everyone. And three is that after my early morning call with Detective Mason I’m filled with restless energy.
Tap tap tap-tap. Tap tap tap-tap.
Just as the second hand touches the twelve, the door swings open.
But instead of Alice, it’s George.
He tosses a manilla folder on the table then steps back to stand beside the doorway like a tantrum-throwing sentinel.
He arrived this morning rabid for the who, when and how of my marriage only to receive a formal letter from Human Resources telling him to shut down his More Moore’s Facebook group which they classified as ‘facilitating a hostile work environment’.
To say George has been eerily non-verbal and full of open resentment since receiving said letter would be an understatement.
My chair creaks as I lean forward and open the folder to disperse the meeting’s agenda.
Chris, seated a few chairs down the table, glances at his watch, frowning.
I grab my phone, about to text Alice when the door opens, hitting George in the backside.
‘Sorry!’ Alice peers around the door, looking wide-eyed at my disgruntled assistant. ‘Are you okay, George?’
Tugging his lapels down with both hands, George deadpans, ‘Fabulous.’
Ben tries to hide his laughter behind a cough.
Alice gives George one last apologetic look before facing everyone seated at the conference table. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
When she meets my eyes, her smile does something to my heart rate that my morning workout failed to do.
She’s wearing what she normally wears – a black blazer, white button-down and a black pencil skirt. The main difference is that instead of her old Moore sales uniform, these items are new, designer, and probably hand selected by my mother during yesterday’s shopping spree.
‘The butterfly lights were delivered just as I arrived. I wanted to make sure they weren’t damaged before they were signed for.’ Her smile actually widens. ‘They weren’t and I think they’re going to look amazing.’
‘Speaking of looking amazing…’ Ben makes an exaggerated pretense of looking her over. ‘Seems like Vegas agreed with you.’
Chris jabs him in the side. ‘Hi Alice, good to have you back.’
Alice turns her smile on the rest of the room.
I don’t like it.
‘Hi, I’m Alice, I’m the lead visual merchandiser and social media coordinator.’ She gives a little wave. ‘I’m really happy you’re joining the marketing team.’
The new employees take turns saying hello and shaking hands before she moves to sit. And seeing as the only available seat is the one next to me, she rounds the table in my direction.
My eyes fall to the red bows on her shoes.
* * *
‘Here’s your Americano, Mr Moore.’ The Moore’s Café barista, the one who, just a little under a week ago, shrank at my presence, smiles warmly as she hands me my to-go cup.
Today requires a rare, but much needed, hit of caffeine.
Even for an accused workaholic, the past few days and nights are catching up with me.
‘Thank you.’ Unused to such an effusive greeting, I drop a twenty in the tip jar.
