His chuckle is loud, completely not appropriate for a coffee shop or anywhere inside at this hour. By the evil glares we receive, I think he’s woken the dead, or maybe their caffeine finally kicked in. From where he stands beside me, his elbow fans out to tap mine. “You’re not jealous, are you, Juni?”
“I barely know you.” I kind of hate that he might be right. Yet here I am, completely lost as to why I even care.
By the lines beginning to leave their marks on the outside of his eyes, he scowls more than he should. Or maybe it’s from smiling so much, but I doubt it. Each smile of his seems to be hard-earned. He’s just so confusing. One minute, we’re flirting, and the next, we’re going back to our own lives like complete strangers.
Wait, we are complete strangers.
I think the most I’ve gotten from him is his first name, that he seems to be obsessed with crisp, white shirts—expensive, I might add—and he drinks his coffee black. No surprise there.
Leaning over, he whispers, “This is true, but maybe—”
“Andrew?” Jen is holding his coffee and the bag of muffins in the air for him.
I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but . . . nah, I roll them. I take my coffee from a pouting Barry, who tries to ignore me, and then I maneuver around Andrew to leave. He’s picking up his order when he says, “Thanks, Jen.”
I don’t stick around to hear their cute little banter. It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me at all, but I don’t need to be subjected to it either. Feeling snarky, I mutter to myself, “Here’s your coffee, Andrew, all perfect and hot like you. Oh, and you’re a stud muffin like this banana nut.” What am I doing? I’m losing my mind, that’s what. Outside, I take a deep breath, exhale, and then pluck the top off my coffee to sip.
The sidewalk is bustling with people trying to get to work. Leave it to Andrew to stand out like a superstar on a red carpet that’s been rolled out just for him. He hands me the bag, and says, “I hate to run, but I have a conference call I can’t be late for.” Signaling to a car at the curb, he adds, “I can drop you somewhere if it’s on the way.”
“I’m sure it won’t be. Anyway, I’m not in a hurry, so I think I’ll walk.”
“If you’re sure.” He leans on the top of the door, looking at me for what feels like an hour. It’s mere seconds, but the lingering stare carries weight with it. “I—”
“It’s okay, Andrew,” I say, letting him off the hook. Raising the coffee cup, I suck in a breath. “Debt paid, and I scored a muffin.”
“All right.” He nods once, his gaze staying locked with mine. “Goodbye, Juni.”
“See you around.”
He dips inside the car and closes the door. I could stand around hoping for some big moment, a grand gesture, or a sign that we’re meant to be friends, but that only happens in the movies. So, I click my heels together and head to my job. But hey, I got a free coffee and muffin out of this morning. Slightly better than Jen, I suppose.
5
Juni
The elevator doors open wide, revealing a desk with gleaming brass letters hung above the receptionist’s head. Although her eyes meet mine, a headset mic blocks most of her smile. “It’s a great day to invest in your future with Christiansen Wealth Management. How may I help you?”
That’s a mouthful. “I’m here to see—”
A finger cuts through the air, silencing me. She waves me forward and then holds that finger up again when I reach the front of the high counter. Her gaze dips down, and she punches buttons before releasing a hard breath. “Sorry about that. The calls are endless this time of day with clients freaking out about early market projections. I get it, but the New York Stock Exchange hasn’t opened yet.”
“I thought this was a financial advising company?”
“It is, but CWM bought Manhattan Financial to get a foothold in New York, which was a brokerage firm. They’re headquartered out of Los Angeles.” She quirks her mouth to the side and taps a pen against her cheek. “Though since Mr. Christiansen, the eldest Christiansen son, moved to New York, I guess this is the headquarters. At least for now.”
That’s a lot of information in the span of two minutes. I like this fast talker. She stands and adds, “Now that you’re all caught up on the company business, how can I help you?”
“I’m Juni Jacobs. I’m here for—”
“For my job. I’m Melissa.” Smiling, she rubs her belly. “I’m off for maternity leave in a few days, so we need to get started right away. There’s a lot to learn.” She pulls a drawer open and points. “You can tuck your bag in here. It’ll be safe. There are cameras everywhere.”
I set my bag in the large drawer.
Wasting no time, she pushes the drawer closed with the tip of her block heel and then clips a box to her belt. “Follow me.” As soon as we start walking, I see her press on the box, and then hear her say, “It’s a great day to invest in your future with Christiansen Wealth Management. How may I help you?”
She looks back over her shoulder, holding her mic to cut off the sound, and quieter than a whisper, she mouths, “This is the atrium. Assistants, researchers, and data entry all sit here.”
I nod just as she says to someone who’s called, “I’ll transfer you.” Pointing to our right, she says in a normal volume of voice, “This is the conference area. Conference room one through five. They go from smallest to largest. One being the smallest. Employees have to book the rooms in the main operations dashboard for CWM. That way, there’s never any confusion as to who has it when.” She stops and turns to me. Grasping my arm, she sighs heavily. “It used to be my job. God, am I glad I don’t have to mess with that anymore.”
Her back is to me again, and not breaking stride, she waves her finger in front of her, crossing out something I can’t see. “The mailroom and brokerage division are housed one floor up. It’s noisy and a different environment from down here. The stockbrokers watch the market like they’re standing on the exchange floor. Technically, they should be, so yeah, it never made sense to me why they play the screens at such a high volume.”
“Maybe for them, it’s like staying in character. Method stockbroking.”
“Ah. You mean because of all the yelling they usually do down at the stock exchange? They do like noise.”
“Yes.”
She ponders the thought, and then a smile slides into place. “Probably. Never thought of it that way. The cave is on the opposite side of the atrium.” She starts whispering, “The accountants and HR are in this area on the left. They like quiet at all times. It’s like a library over here. I’ve been shushed a time or two. And the financial advisors take up the offices on this side. The window offices.”
Answering a call, she skips right over an office that appears to take up the space of two. The plaque reads CEO, but there’s no name attached. There’s also an open-door policy sign posted. “Last but not least, our legal department.” Pulling me into the break room, she whispers, “Are you single?”