“It’s just Saxon.” I laugh. “Being overprotective and worrying too much. Hey, how has he been the last few months?” I ask, remembering how tired he looked.
Her smile drops. “I think it’s been hard on him. He keeps to himself a lot, but I guess that’s always been his way. When you do see him, you can see how worn out and stressed he looks. I think he feels responsible.”
“Responsible?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, you know, responsible for Argo, responsible for Jeanie and Mark, and responsible for you.” She says that last bit quietly, not wanting to hurt my feelings I’m sure. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.
Does Saxon really feel responsible for all of that? That’s a lot for one person to carry. Nate carried all that, sure, but he carried it because he chose to, because he wanted to, not because it was left to him. Not only is Saxon suffering the loss of his best friend, but he must feel like he gained a whole world of trouble and problems to sort.
“He looked much more at ease on his way back through, though. He looked almost … happy.” I know she is trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it.
“Maybe my coming here will be good for everyone, and not just me.”
“I definitely think so,” she states, sitting upright in her chair and facing me. “Plus, we get to catch up and gossip every day now.” A huge smile lights up her pretty face, and I can’t help but smile back at her.
“So tell me, how are things with John?”
“Ugh, we broke up. I found him texting with a woman from his gym.”
“Are you serious? No way. He seemed like the perfect guy.”
“Yeah well, definitely not the perfect guy. Far from it actually.” Her face is blank; there is no sadness or anger, just acceptance.
“I’m sorry, Harper. I know you were with him for a while.”
“It’s not like we were getting married. Seriously, I’m over it. It’s been months already. I’ve had a few one-nighters to heal the heartache. I’m ready to meet someone else.”
I can’t help but laugh at her honesty. “Harper!” I scold.
“What? You should totally come out with us.”
All the blood leaves my face. Go out. What? Looking for one-night stands? I don’t fucking think so.
“Brooke, no, I didn’t mean come out to meet people. I just meant to get out. Have a few drinks, a dance, a girls’ night out—that’s all.” Her eyes are wide as she places her hand on my forearm.
“Actually, hanging with the girls sounds great. I’m sure Rach will be down to come as well.”
Harper sags back in her seat. “That would be awesome. She seemed like such a hoot at your birthday party last year, and the more the merrier.”
We chat for another fifteen minutes or so while enjoying our coffee. We gossip about the office antics and what’s been going on with other staff.
“I kind of wanted to ask you about the new guy.” I try acting casual.
“New guy?” She wrinkles her nose and scrunches her eyebrows.
“Paul, is it?” I know it damn well is, but I don’t want to seem too interested.
“Did you have the un-pleasure of meeting him?” Her face scrunches up more in disgust, and I get the feeling she may have had the same welcome I did.
“Briefly. I ran into him in the staff room, and he introduced himself.”
“He hasn’t made the best impression around here. I’ve heard from several of the other girls that he’s been a bit forward with them, if you know what I mean.”
“Has anyone said anything to Saxon?”
“I told them to, but they didn’t want to stir up trouble, seeing as they had nothing concrete. I don’t think he has crossed the line with any of them, but he definitely hovers above it.”
I’m getting a bad feeling about this. “Should I say something to Saxon?”
“You’re the boss, Brooke. You don’t need to run to Saxon with everything,” Harper says as she laughs at me.
“I guess you’re right. I just feel like he knows what’s best. What will I do when he leaves?”
“You’ll be fine. Saxon won’t leave until you’re ready, I’m sure. That’s if he does ever leave,” she says, suddenly serious.
“Trust me, he would’ve already left if it weren’t for me.”
“I have no doubt you’re the reason he’s here.”
I go to ask her what she means by that, but the elevator doors opening interrupts us. A guy with dark hair styled in a messy faux-hawk saunters up to the front desk—and when I say saunter I mean saunter. This guy has got some fine swagger going on.