Change of Heart

Chapter 5

It's Friday, the night before Maddison's wedding. Everyone has left the office except me. Things are still tense with Bianca, so, it seems easier to put my time into working.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were still here."

Shooting my head up from the screen, Calvin's standing in my doorway. He's holding a stack of forms.

"I was catching up on a few things," I reply, glad I could form a coherent sentence. He approaches my desk and I take the forms from him.

"A few of these need a signature," he tells me. His gaze lingers slightly on me.

"Can I read through them and have them sent back to your office?" I ask. He nods and turns to leave. I scramble my brain for a reason to get him to stay. "Are you hungry?" I blurt out.

He faces me again," sure," he smiles, with a nod.

"There's an awesome Chinese place, just across the square?" I suggest, reaching for my wallet. Happy with my choice, we walk towards the elevator. Already, my palms are sweating, but this time, I don't feel as uncomfortable. Besides, we are just getting food, what's wrong with that?

"How long have you worked in this building?" He asks.

"Ah, be about 8 years now," I reply.

He chuckles, "funny how you work near someone, yet never notice them."

We stop on the ground floor and make our way outside, and across The Square. It's a large courtyard area, situated at the front of the building. The floor is a wonderful beige stone and there are rows of shrubs around. We approach the store and place our orders. While we wait, I commend myself that I'm still managing to hold a conversation with him. That is, without making a complete and utter fool of myself. His phone rings and after answering it, he paces slowly back and forth as he speaks. He holds himself with such a stature, that it almost makes it hard to be noticed when you're around him.

"Your order, sir," the elderly Chinese woman calls, removing my focus from Calvin. I thanks her and take the paper bags. Calvin ends his call and we walk back to my office.

"I'm guessing you're not from Ney York," I casually ask, considering his strong accent. I sit down on the floor and he joins me.

"Actually, I moved from London to LA when I was a teenager but ended up here, a few years after my parents died." His voice doesn't alter as he tells me this. Shocked to hear of his tragic past, I dread how hard it must have been growing up with such little family.

"I'm sorry, that must have been difficult." I open a container of noodles and pass it to him.

"Eh, these things happen. I wasn't very close to them. Don't get me wrong, I loved them, we just had different views." He twists his chopsticks around and I notice a deeper thought pass over his face.

"My story, however, is fairly straightforward. Grew up here and besides most of my family now residing in Australia, my life seems fairly simple in comparison." I tell him. He chuckles, and I notice a sadness creep over his face—it disappears faster than it came.

"Show me what you do here, I've seen a little and you're quite talented."

I sense a change of topic was the reason for this question. I reach over to grab my laptop from my desk. Opening a few different files of advertisements, I designed. He looks them over and seems very impressed. He leans in close to get a good look at the screen and his face is now inches from mine. The warmth of his breath dances along my open neck.

"I love the colors in this one, they really draw your eyes in," he comments. There's a strong desire of wanting his lips on mine. I can't explain why, but my body wants his. Ever since the elevator, something changed, and I know now, this is more than a simple infatuation. But I'm a married man. I have a wife and kids. No matter what I feel, it can't happen—I won't let it.