Chapter 30 Monday Morning Blues
I arrive early on Monday morning. I’m not really sure why. Except that I’m excited. I want to be here. I’m eagerly waiting for Noah to arrive. I’m trying not to think about why I want to see him. I spent most of my weekend wishing that Monday would come quicker.
Logging into my computer, I impatiently wait for it to load while making a mental note to recommend grandma updates the company’s IT system.
Glancing up frequently, I tell myself that I’m not looking for Noah. I quickly go through my emails, surprised to find several emails from the complaint department. Usually, I don’t hear from them except for on Fridays with the weekly complaint log.
I click to open the first email just as I notice Noah making his way towards me. He’s carrying two coffees and he’s actually smiling. It’s disconcerting. He never smiles on Monday mornings. Hell, I’m lucky if he doesn’t spend our Monday mornings screaming like a banshee at me.
“Morning,” he says with a strange amount of chipper as he places one of the coffees on my desk.
“Good morning,” I reply. “Is that for me?”
He doesn’t say anything as he takes a slurp of his own drink.
Picking up the coffee, I smirk at him. “I think you’ve got our job descriptions messed up.”
“Did you have a good weekend?” he asks, leaning casually against my desk.
I’m not sure what to make of his behaviour. On one side, I like it but on the other, I can’t help but wonder if he’s off his rocker. He’s behaving seriously out of character.
“You clearly did,” I reply.
He shrugs his shoulders. “It was okay, I guess. I didn’t do much.”
“Then what’s with all this,” I ask, waving my hand enthusiastically.
“All what?”
“You’re mood.”
“What about it?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You’re in a peculiar mood.”
“Peculiar? Because I’m happy?”
“I don’t want to be rude, but you do know that the whole team try to avoid you on Mondays.”
“They do?”
“They say you’re an especially moody git on Monday mornings.”
“Really?” He’s grinning, weirdly entertained by being called a moody git.
“Did you get good news or something?” I ask, completely dumbfounded for why he’s so happy.
“Nope.” He shakes his head.
“Propose to your girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I try not to let his words affect me. It shouldn’t matter that he’s single. In fact, it doesn’t matter that he’s single.
“Er… Did you win the lottery?”
“No,” he tells me, chuckling.
“Then why…?”
“Just happy to be here,” he says with a shrug.
“Happy to be here? On a Monday morning?” I ask.
“Is it really that hard to believe?”
“Yes. Yes, it really is.”
“Do you want me to pretend? Fake being in a crappy mood?” he offers.
“No. Not particularly. It’s just weird, that’s all.”
We sip our coffees in silence for a few moments. It’s strange. I’m not used to seeing Noah Grisham stay still for this long. He’s usually on the move or busy at work. This might be the first time that I’ve ever seen him really relaxed.
The easy expression on his face doesn’t last long however. It’s quickly replaced by frown lines.
“I’m a bit worried about those complaints,” he remarks, eventually breaking the comfortable silence.
“The complaints?” I ask, my mind automatically jumping to the email I’d abandoned.
“It doesn’t make sense that we’d have three complaints about the walnut coffee table.”
“Why, sir?” I ask, scrolling through the email as I listen to him.
“It’s one of our all-time bestselling products. I can’t remember getting three complaints about it ever, let alone in one week.”
“Mhmm,” I reply, my attention on the email.
“It’s been live for eighteen months and there’s never been a problem.”
He turns to look at me when I don’t reply.
“What are you looking at?” he asks, sounding slightly disgruntled at not having my undivided attention.
“You reminded me about a couple of emails I received.”
“Emails?” he asks.
“About the complaints,” I explain. “The complaints department have already emailed me twice this morning. I was just about to check the emails when you arrived.”
He darts around the desk so he’s standing behind me. Leaning down, his face hovers next to mine as he reads over my shoulder.
“There’s been a spike in complaints over the weekend,” I tell him, turning my head to look at him.
My breath catches because he’s right there, so close I could touch him. My heart is racing, my palms a little bit sweaty as I remind myself that he’s my boss. It really doesn’t matter how good he smells.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
