Page 19 of Call Off the Dark

Or so it seemed. With the sunlight reflecting on the glass, it was possible he couldn’t clearly see outside.

At least that’s what Helen told herself as she spun away and walked down the sidewalk, pausing in front of the neighboring building, out of his sight now. She had taken off so quickly, in motion before her mind had a chance to tell herself how stupid it would look if he could indeed see her flee.

It couldn’t be much warmer than fifty degrees outside, but her skin prickled with nervous heat. She removed her coat and let at least two minutes pass. Tyler had to be in the elevator by now. If for some reason, she saw him later and he said he’d seen her, she’d say she had spotted a coworker and went back to greet them. She’d lie and say she hadn’t even noticed him through the doors.

But they’d looked right at each other.

No, not really though. Through glass across the expanse of a lobby didn’t really count, did it?

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

As Helen ascended the concrete stairs once again, the lobby came into view and there was Tyler, in the same spot, staring out at the street. Her heart tripped.

As she entered the building, she kept her coat folded over her arm and clutched her bag in front of her. She was glad she’d chosen a red blouse that morning. Red projected confidence!

Helen smiled brightly. “Hello!”

“Hey,” Tyler said, not as brightly but still politely. He was studying her face closely.

“How are you?” she asked. This was going well.

“Fine. Why’d you run away?” This was not going well at all.

She laughed. “Run away?” She took one moment to pretend she didn’t understand and then another moment to pretend she was slowly comprehending his comment. “Oh. I saw a friend outside. Had to say hello.”

“Okay.” He didn’t believe her.

He reached out to touch the elevator call button on the wall. When Helen had seen him through the glass doors, he’d clearly already been waiting for the elevator, which meant he’d let an elevator come and go. He’d waited for her.

“It’s nice outside today,” Helen said. “Warm.” God, the weather?

“Yeah,” Tyler agreed in an even voice. “The weatherman said partly cloudy with a high of sixty-one and a low of forty-four.”

She looked at him sharply, but he was staring at the closed elevator doors. Was he being serious or sarcastic? What the hell did he mean, reciting the forecast like that?

Helen cleared her throat. “We’ve been lucky to not have rain lately.”

Ding! The elevator opened.

They stepped inside. He pressed the buttons for floors four and seven, and the doors closed heavily. The silence enveloped them as she felt the weightless rise to floor two, then three.

Finally, Tyler turned to her. “Do you want to grab lunch together?” His voice was normal now, his eyes warm . . . maybe even hopeful? No trace of formality. No weather forecasting. Just a genuine invitation.

“Oh.” Helen was surprised. This was not what she expected. “I have a lunch meeting today. I can’t.” It was true. A client was coming at noon.

As the elevator stopped at floor four, he nodded and said, “Have a good day, Helen.” His tone was polite again.

Tyler stepped off the elevator.

As the doors closed, she wished she could reach out and grab the back of his leather jacket, but the moment had come and gone so quickly.

Helen had a difficult time focusing on the conversation with the client during lunch. This was nothing new though. It wasn’t unusual for her to be sitting in a meeting talking with enthusiasm about how to increase sales for some piece of tech junk that nobody really needed in their lives, all the while thinking, What’s the point of all this anyway? To sell more useless stuff to consumers? Sometimes, when she heard herself say words like authenticity and synergy and brand identity, she wanted to dump her caramel macchiato on her own face. Nothing about this corporate world felt authentic, but today was more excruciating than usual, because her mind kept drifting back to Tyler. Luckily, the two other members from her team were there to carry most of the chatter. Helen pushed her chicken Cobb salad around on her plate and chimed in with appropriate responses occasionally.

Tyler still wanted her. Helen had no doubt. She’d felt it in the awkward silence between them in the elevator, and she’d seen it on his face when she’d turned down his lunch invitation. Mostly, though, she’d just sensed it in the way that a woman just knows.

But wanting someone and respecting someone were two different things. She wasn’t about to date someone who would fail to keep his word. Friday morning, he’d told her he’d call her that day. It was Wednesday now. That was unacceptable. And if they hadn’t happened to run into each other by the elevator this morning, then what? There probably wouldn’t have been a lunch invitation. Clearly, Tyler was a man of convenience, someone who took things that were in front of him when it was easy but not when it required effort.

And yet, she needed to see him. Even though all she was probably going to do was tell him that he’d blown it with her. Still, she’d rather speak her mind now and be done with the whole torrid affair than spend the rest of her days avoiding him in the lobby.