Page 28 of On His Mind

That night, I turn the dining table into a workstation and have the whole apartment to myself.

Ivory’s out. I put on a cozy YouTube vlog on the TV for the noise of it, pull my laptop close, and start hunting for the zoning code on Oliver’s lot. It’s harder than I expected — the property map takes an hour just to find, buried three links deep on a county site built in 2004 — but I find it, and once I have it, I have all that I need. Then I spread the house plans out and start making the changes in his notes, redrawing the door swings so nothing opens into anything, and the hours go.

I like being good at things. I won’t pretend I don’t. There’s a clean, quiet satisfaction in handing back work that’s better than what was asked for.

The front door bangs open near ten, and Ivory blows in on a cloud of her own weather.

“What is happening here?” She takes in the table, the plans, and the laptop.

I look up and lift a brow. “I’m officially an intern.”

She snaps a photo of me before I can wave her off. “You look so professional. God, I love that top.” Then she drops into the chair across from me, and it all comes out of her at once — Drew’s barely texting her back, says he’s slammed with classes and hockey, she can’t tell if he’s busy or bored of her. “Did you hear from Theo?”

“No,” I answer.

“Still? That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” I don’t look up from the plans. “It’s not that serious.”

She stares at me like I’ve said something horrible. “I hate when people are nonchalant. I am so not nonchalant.”

“I know you’re not.”

“It’s a compliment to me and an insult to you.”

I laugh, and she storms off to her room to be dramatic in private. I go back to my door swings. She thinks it’s coolness, the way I am about Theo. It isn’t. It’s just that I keep enough distance so that nothing gets close enough to cost me anything.

Design Fundamentals Studio I class finishes at lunch the next day. I stop for coffee on the way to Whitmore Design to drop off my work, and then I plan to get lunch after.

Julia hands me a printed schedule when I come in. “Got you sorted.”

I look down at it and inhale. He wants me here every day this week. Every single one.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes.” I fold it in half, so my face has somewhere to go. “Is Oliver in?”

The office is busier today, more people at more monitors, and I feel their eyes track me down the row of cubicles to his door. I knock. He lights up when he sees me, which I notice. It makes me nervous.

“Penelope,” he greets.

“I have everything done.” I hand him the folder.

He opens it and goes through my work slowly, and I watch him closely. “Perfect. Now put the changes into the computer at your desk.”

I blink. “I wasn’t planning on staying, actually.”

“You don’t have a class.”

Right, he has my class schedule.“No, but I haven’t had lunch.”

He checks his watch and stands. “Neither have I. Come on.”

“Oh — you don’t have to. I can just ––”

“I haven’t eaten either. Let’s go.”

He’s already moving, and I’m following, because it would be rude to say no to my new boss. The whole office watches us leave together. Julia gives me a little smile on the way out, and it makes my stomach squeeze.