揙h梬ell, I抦 sorry.?Her voice is sympathetic and oddly sweet, lacking her usual caustic bite.
揧ou should get some rest, and I should finish my scotch. We抣l talk Monday. Sweet dreams, Nevermore.?
Probably not the best goodbye for an employee. Too late.
揧ou too梥weet dreams.?
Bullshit. I don抰 want her and sweet existing in the same universe.
That抯 how we got here, sniping at each other, and somehow trading secrets better kept inside the dark chambers of our hearts.
揋ood night,?I mutter.
When I look down, my screen is blinking.
She抯 gone like the strange little fever dream she is, fading back into the bottomless night.
7
Ungainly Fowl （Dakota）
I wake up in a tangled fit of sheets with a curse on my lips.
All from the kind of insane dream you instantly remember梐nd regret.
I wore my wedding dress.
Dad walked me down the aisle.
I was walking to meet Jay梬hat should抳e happened in real life on that awful day梑ut when my dad put my hand in the groom抯， he wasn抰 that backstabbing mouse of a man anymore.
The stranger groom wore an impeccably tailored Haughty But Nice tuxedo.
He was taller and broader and more imposing than Jay, and his eyes sparkled like fine polished mahogany. When he smiled at me, oh God.
I went from bride to butterflies to butter.
A giddy emotional noodle who couldn抰 decide if she wanted to break down crying in confusion, or in happy ugly tears for a man who pushes every button.
The second it hit me who I was about to marry, I burst into a raven and flew away.
Okay, so dreams are hardly ever realistic, even when they抮e annoyingly real in other ways.
The raven probably came from my shoulder tattoo. Since I couldn抰 live down the constant jokes about being an English major named Poe, one day, I decided to just rock it.
I always loved 揟he Raven,?anyway.
The godly tux and Lincoln effing Burns obviously came from the stress I have to deal with at work. Oh, plus the glaring fact that Lincoln was the last person I talked to before I went to bed.
I don抰 have a crush on my boss.
I don抰。
I抦 not even stupid enough to think love is real.
Still, it抯 the kind of dream you have to process.
So, I sit at my tiny table with my notebook, working through the chaos that抯 my brain the only way I know how. I dive into words, pounding out meter and rhyme and feelings like juggling knives.
When a sharp sound goes off behind me, I almost go tumbling out of my chair.
揧ou should really start locking your door. Some crazy could walk in.?Eliza strolls inside, holding a steaming hot mug with both hands.
My heart leaps at the sound of her voice and I slam my notebook shut.
揧ikes. Thanks for the reminder. Can抰 believe I forgot to lock up last night.?
Was I that distracted from talking to him?
I don抰 want to know. I also don抰 need anyone else thinking I抳e fallen so far down the rabbit hole that I抦 writing angsty poetry inspired by my cinnamon roll snorting boss.
揧ou okay? I didn抰 mean to scare you.?She sits down beside me and slides the mug over. 揟ry it. I抦 calling it Raven Blend just for you.?
揥hat? Now you抮e cracking Poe jokes too??
揘ope. I named it after your bitchin?tattoo.?
I burst out laughing.
God. Eliza抯 humor reminds me that my encounters with the bosshole have made me overly defensive.
揝orry. I think I just woke up a little tightly wound today. Probably the new job or something.?I pick up the drink and take a long, pleasing sip. 揙ooh. Wow, Eliza梬ow.?
揚erks you up before the caffeine hits, doesn抰 it? It抯 two parts cinnamon and one vanilla.?
揑t抯 wonderful,?I say, praying I抦 not developing a cinnamon aversion.
揥hat抯 wrong??
I take another drink. It抯 good, but not mind-blowing the second time around, and I don抰 think it抯 the coffee itself.
揙h, nothing. Nothing with this drink, that抯 for sure.?
揃ut you抮e feeling restless? It抯 that dillweed you work for again, isn抰 it??
I sigh. 揘o.?
揟he job? I was afraid writing about holy matrimony all day might be hard. But if anyone can do it, it抯 you.?
揝orta. Technically, I guess it抯 psycho-boss. The guy tries not to be a twenty-four-seven asshat, and when he tries to be nice…somehow, he抯 just worse. Or it抯 just me. After last year, I抦 overly sensitive with weddings. I抦 also not great at the whole forgiveness thing, especially when it involves dumb remarks from a dangerously handsome, powerful billionaire with my future in his hands. Not forgiving might be safer.?
揧ou knew he was an attractive jerk when you took the job. Too bad you can抰 get hazard pay for that.?
揑 know,?I say glumly.
揝o why did you do it??
揌uh??I shake my head. 揑 guess it just…seemed like the next logical step. I couldn抰 be a lowly assistant with a sucky salary for the rest of my life.?
揑 think there抯 more to it than that. You could抳e gotten other jobs in this city, Dakota, but you chose to stick it out.?She takes the mug and sips. 揂lso, it抯 a nice sunny day and we抮e not wasting it. How about we talk it out on a bike ride??
揜eally??I glance up, surprised.
Eliza has always been more of a Pilates or yoga kind of girl. Not to mention somewhat of a homebody on the weekends when she抯 in full coffee mad scientist mode.
She grins and nods. 揧es! Let抯 go.?
揕et抯 ride to Sweeter Grind first. My treat.?
揑 just made you coffee.?She gestures frantically at the cup.
揂nd it抯 great. But hardly anyone goes to Sweeter Grind for the coffee over other places here. It抯 all about the baked goods and the atmosphere.?
揟rue. Okay, I抦 in.?
Ten minutes later, we抮e bustling downstairs to retrieve our bikes.
揝o what did the human dildo do this time??Eliza asks.
揥e were in a meeting full of people, and he asks me how a woman with no ring on her finger knows so much about weddings.?
She grimaces.
揋od, the nerve. You should have asked him how a man with no game sells so much shit to women.?
I laugh hard. She抯 in fine form today.
揑f I had your brain, I would have. He had it coming. Only, he called me up last night trying to apologize…？
揂t least, he tried, I guess? You should teach him social skills and charge him out the butt.?
He did try.
By the end of our little chat, he actually seemed sincere. That should make me happy.
When we get to the cafe, I go to the counter.
揟wo Regis rolls, please.?
揑抦 sorry,?the girl behind the counter says with a wince. 揥e just ran out.?
揂gain??My eyes bug out. 揥ait, don抰 tell me. A tall, growly guy with a black Centurion card??
She laughs. 揌ow抎 you know? We had half a dozen left about ten minutes ago. Same guy bought 抏m all up.?
The bosshole. I抦 a thousand percent sure as soon as she confirms.
揇id he have mocha-brown eyes??
She giggles. 揧eah. He was pretty built. The guy looked like he could rip you in two, except I抳e seen him before and he抯 usually wearing a three-piece suit梟ot today.?
Eliza and I exchange a slow, agonized look.
I hate that I wonder what Lincoln Burns is wearing, too.
揌e used to come in and just buy a few rolls at a time, but now he抯 like…hoarding them? He buys at least half a dozen Regis rolls a few times a week now,?the barista says.
Eliza抯 gaze never leaves me.
揟hat抯 Captain McGrowly, all right,?I tell her. 揂nd I think we抳e found the source of his superpower.?