For A Reason

Chapter 19: What's Done Is Done

It's just lunch. He'll be happy to see you. I reassure myself for the fifth time as I patiently wait for the elevator to arrive on the ninth floor.

I fidget with my wool mini skirt, attempting to make it look a little longer than it actually is. It's a good thing I decided to wear tights today; the weather is unforgiving.

I nervously bite at my cuticles.

The delicious aroma of the pasta I bought fills the small lift with its scent, and my stomach growls in response.

Finally, the elevator arrives at the ninth floor and I step out into the lobby of Blue Sky Advertising Agency.

I look around, hoping to see him before I need to ask someone where his office is located.

"Can I help you?" A woman asks from behind the front desk. Her jet-black hair contrasts against her olive skin, and I can't help but feel a little jealous of her beauty.

"Hi. I'm looking for..."

"Dawn?" Comes a deep, smooth voice. I turn my head slightly to the left and there he is, the man that I love. The man that has agreed to give me a second chance after all that I've put him through.

I don't deserve him. Not one bit.

"Hey!" I say cheerily, not able to hide my smile any longer. "I brought lunch!" I hold up the paper bag as proof, and Christopher Peters smiles at me in response.

The smile doesn't touch his eyes, and I can tell that he hasn't slept at all again.

That's probably my fault.

He takes a couple steps towards me and I take a few towards him. After an awkward pause, he wraps me in his strong arms, his signature scent encasing me in his embrace.

I bury my head in his shoulder, taking in as much as I can.

"Come. We can eat in my office," he says, taking my hand and leading me across the lobby and past a large conference room with a marble table.

His office is located at the intersection of two hallways; each of the rooms encased by large glass walls.

I try not to ogle as we pass each one, concentrating on Chris' footsteps in front of me as he leads the way.

We get to his office and he takes a seat in one of the two large armchairs across from his desk. A small, round end table sits between them, and he gestures for me to join him as he removes the food from the brown, paper bag.

"Oh my god, Gio's. I fucking love Gio's..." he praises, already digging into his fettuccine.

I smile, and uncover my own pasta, taking a plastic fork and a napkin in hand.

"I know. Hence why I'm here," I say, taking a bite of my rigatoni. "It's a peace offering."

I eye him carefully, making sure not to say too much. He seems to check out when I say too much.

His posture is relaxed, his concentration mostly on the food in front of him.

"Well, I really appreciate it, Dee. I'm famished." His appetite proves that, as he's almost finished half of his plate already.

After a moment of silence, I contemplate my words before saying them, something I've been working on and need to get better at.

"Chris?"

"Hm," he murmurs as he stuffs a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Do you think you'd like to get married? I mean, would you like to try our marriage out again?"

He stops eating immediately, the fork he's brought up to his mouth paused in midair. I can't tell if the expression on his face is horror or anger; I guess both are not what I was expecting.

I try to backtrack, but the words have already fallen from my lips and it's too late.

"I mean, we could—you don't need to answer right now..." I say, my face turning bright red as I look down at my food, away from his grimace.

"Dawn. I think that discussion is best saved for another day," he admits.

I nod my head, but don't say anything in return.

We eat the rest of our lunch in silence, thanks to me and my big mouth.

"Thanks for having lunch with me today, hun," Chris says to me as I prepare to leave.

I turn to give him a quick peck on the lips, but I can't stop my tongue from sneaking its way into his mouth.

A shocked moan escapes, but he returns the kiss, his lips in sync with mine.

Our brief, intimate moment is interrupted by a small rap on his office door, and, without an invitation to enter, in walks the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Her caramel skin is so smooth and blemish-free; it matches the color of her eyes, which stand out against the deep ebony of her shoulder-length hair. She wears no make-up however, and is not exactly dressed in professional attire; she sports dark-wash denim pants and a wrinkly, sheer-white top with a small coffee stain on the sleeve.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize..." she mumbles, looking down. Her cheeks turn a rich burgundy, and she steals a glance at Chris before looking down again.

She hands him a clipboard and a pen.

"Uh, I'm sorry," she says again. "I just need you to sign off on the campaign budget and the marketing calendar for the holiday season."

"Not a problem," Chris expresses. His casual reply rubs me the wrong way.

He takes the clipboard from her hand, and smiles at her.

"Um, how are you?" He asks, glancing down at the papers.

Why is he acting so awkward? It must be because she walked in on us.

"Fine," she replies coolly, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Chris seems a little put off by her curt answer, but returns to the papers, briefly looks over its contents, and then scribbles his signature on the two sheets.

"Glad to hear it." He hands the pen and clipboard back to her with a polite smile.

The woman retrieves it, all the while her eyes avoiding his, and turns to leave. She gives me a small nod before opening the door and walking out.

"Who was that?" I inquire, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Chris' expression proves that I hadn't.

Of course. He never misses a thing.

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What did you think reading from Dawn's POV? Although she's just a supporting character rn, I think maybe she should have her own story. I just might write one 🧐

Don't forget to VOTE ⭐️ and leave your feedback in the comments! Good, bad...ALL are welcome! 😇