Hair clings to my sweat covered neck, as I finish my last lap around the track. This track hasn't changed since high school, dirt covering the outline of it. There are memories here, good and bad I'm reminded with every step I take
We can't be friends anymore; I think we need a break. Those words spin in my head. I haven't thought much about this situation since it happened 6 years ago. Tears threaten to prick up to my eyes, I push them aside and head home. I had work today, that's the only place I feel happy and free.
Walking into work felt different, the air was thick. Something was off and I was going to find out. The clicking off my white boots hit the floor and my red pant suit cling close. My curls bouncing with every step I take.
"Imani," a hush voice pulls me into the dark conference room.
"What?" I grab my arm back, turning to my best friend Kimme.
"Have you heard of our new boss?" she asks, judging by her face it was pretty exciting.
"No, why? Is she mean? and wh-"
"First she is he and second he's hot," She yelps, jumping up and down.
"Why would a man want to own a glamour magazine?" I ask, even though this one of the top selling magazines in the city.
"Who cares, you have to see him," she pulls me out of the room.
I stop her, "No, I have work to be done. Ms. Sammuel's gave me an article before she randomly left,"
"Fine, I'll catch you later the new boss wants a morning meeting," she tells me before walking off to her desk. Her long red hair swaging too.
When I reach my desk there's a note from Ms. Sammuel's,
I got offered a job with cooperate! I wanted to tell you, but things got crazy. The new owner Ms. Jeffers seems great. If you need me, you have my number,"
xoxo, Jennys
I drop the note and open my laptop, my sweaky chair makes noise when I sit. I've been asking for a new chair forever now, something my old boss was trying to get. I'll need to ask my new boss about that.
Who was Mr. Jeffery's? I knew a boy with that last name but my heart sinks at that thought. It couldn't be, he didn't do things like this. The ringing of my phone snapped me out that thought,
"There's a meeting in the conference room room," Bryan from the upfront says.
"Dang, am I late?" I ask checking the time.
"Yeah, but only by a few minutes," he answers.
"Great way to make a good impression," I sigh, hanging up the phone.
I hear a loud voice come from the conference room, but his back is turned to me. I slowly open the door, kimme gives me a look of disapproval. I roll my eyes, tip toeing to the chair next to her. Of course, every single thing is against me, because I reach for the chair just as she pulls it out and I fall on my butt.
All eyes are on me, my tan skin turning a dark shade of red. Too scared to look up, I keep my eyes on Kimmes bright pink sandals.
There's silence
"Are you done?" The man's voice asks, I can feel him now behind me.
"Yes," I reply, still on the ground.
I watch as his hand appears in front of me, I grab it reluctantly and turn around.
He's there, him. Stone Jeffries.
"Imani Moore," he says.
Ignore the shooting pain from my ankle and focus on him. It's been so long; he looks the same but foreign at the same time. Why is he here?
"Stone," is all I can say. My vison blurring from the buildup or tears, nauseous takes over.
"Takes a seat," he says. There's no warmth in his voice and his blue eyes are hard, no recognition.
I do as he says, looking down at the table and not him. I can feel the eyes leave me and return to Stone.
"Imani is a great example of what I was about to say," My name in his mouth sounds different. All the eyes return to me, "I don't appreciate tardiness, it's not professional," he keeps his eyes trained on me, "Next time, there will be consequences,"
I tune out the rest of the meeting, next to me I feel my friend giving me a puzzling look. That will be a long story.
After the meeting, Kimmie drags me out the room and follows me to my desk.
"How do you know him?" she ask, sitting on my desk. Her green eyes pierce into my hazel ones.
"From a while ago, I dont know him like that," anymore, I wanted to add that but instead shrugged, trying not to look into her eyes. She could always tell when I was lying.
I watch her eyes flicker behind me, "I know you're hiding something. We will talk later though," she hurries away.
Confusion covers my face, but I'm glad the topic is dropped.
"I'm giving you a new assignment," his voice comes from behind me, I turn around to face him.
"Why?" I ask, crossing my arms. I loved my assignment; Jenny gave it to me because I was a good writer.
"Because I'm the boss and think you need something more. More challenging," he answers, leaning against the wall of my cubical.
I'm flattered but I don't want to accept anything better from him, "What is it?" I ask.
"I want you to interview a style icon from the 70's. There's this lady she was an amazing designer and model," he explains, pacing the small space. My eyes trail his every move, his light arms they grew in a good way.
There's one more thing I'm looking for, that's when I notice it and it's still there. In high school me and him got matching tattoos of bowling balls with each other's initial in them. It was dumb, but we thought it was so cool.
"You still, have it?" I chuckle, looking at his elbow.
He looks down and he pulls his sleeve down, "yeah". I don't know why but that hurt me. Clearing his voice, "about that assignment. I'll send you, her address. I already talked to her, and she knows you're coming. I need that article before next month's issue," he finishes, then walks away.
