Jason

I’m 15 minutes early to the bar, so I take a seat near the front door and order myself a pint of Guinness. I’m a little curious what Knox has to say about Rose, but I’m much more interested in talking to him about our professional relationship. After the disastrous happy hour with Krys and Luke, I realized that the two of us need to find a way to work together without the drama, for the good of the company and our careers. And, truth be told, I’m the one who’s been doling out the animosity, so it’s up to me to make things right. I’m not used to eating crow, but I’m psyching myself up for a large plate when I see Knox walk through the door. I raise my glass to get his attention.

“Hey,” he says, sliding onto the stool beside mine. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Not a problem. What are you drinking?” The bartender comes by and I laugh when Knox orders a Guinness.

“What?”

“You hate beer.”

“I used to hate beer,” he says, then takes a long drink as if to prove me wrong.

“Whatever. What did you need to tell me about Rose?”

He takes another sip of his beer before speaking. “Okay. Where to begin?”

“Spit it out, Pearson. You got me out of bed for this.”

“You were in bed at nine o’clock?”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. I found her snooping though my office this evening.”

“What do you mean, snooping?” He’s such a drama queen.

“I went to get coffee, and when I go back to my office she was there, behind my desk, going through my papers.”

I stop with my pint glass halfway to my mouth. “Seriously?” He nods, looking grim.

“Was she looking for something? What did she say when you walked in?”

“Nothing, really. But she did threaten me if I didn’t make nice with you.” He looks embarrassed, and I feel like shit, since he’s been trying to be nice to me since day one.

“Look, that’s my fault.” I sign and rub my palms down my thighs. “I’ve been behaving like an ass. What’s past is past, and I need to act like a professional. I’m not sure what my deal is-it’s like seeing you transported me back to my 19 year-old self.”

“Well, it’s not entirely your fault. I’m the one who waltzed into the office and expected you to pretend like I’d never ghosted you.”

I laugh, because that’s exactly what he did, but for some reason his admission takes the edge off my anger. “Well, I know I’ve said it before, but I really will try to play nice at work from now on.”

“Thanks. And I’ll try not to be so aggressively…”

“Amiable? Companionable? Obnoxious?”

He laughs into his beer. “Yeah, those.”

“It’s a deal.” I raise my glass and we toast.

“But what are we gonna do about nosy Rosie?” he asks. “She’s kind of creepin’ me out.”

“You know, Krys said the same thing right after Rose started. But why would she be snooping around? She runs the place, she can ask for any documents she wants.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want people to know what she’s looking at,” Knox says, then bites his bottom lip. This makes him look unbearably attractive, so I turn sideways in my seat and catch the bartender’s attention with my empty pint glass.

“Mr. H doesn’t have any secrets or anything,” I say, twirling my fresh beer between my hands.

“How do you know? Everyone has secrets.”

I raise my eyebrows but don’t answer.

“Anyway, let’s talk to Krys tomorrow and see if she’s noticed anything else out of the ordinary about Rose’s behavior.”

“Okay,” I agree, knowing that Krys has been watching Rose like a hawk since she ate the last slice of cheesecake at the March birthday luncheon.

We talk for a few more minutes about office gossip and snowboarding-not sure how we got on that topic-and then fall into an awkward silence. I’m about to break it when Knox stands and throws a twenty on the bar.

“I’ve gotta run-big pitch tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah-Purina, right?” 

He nods, then shuffles his feet awkwardly. 

“Good luck,” is all I say.  I want to say more, but I feel like our newly-formed truce is too fragile to disturb.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.” He leaves, and I sit back heavily. My mind begins to go over the events of the last half hour, but he’s back in less than a minute, his hand falling heavily on my shoulder.

“Hey, I forgot to thank you for coming to meet me tonight. I really appreciate it.” And with a quick squeeze of my bicep, he’s gone.