five

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A knock at my door startles me from the manuscript I'm pouring over. Looking up and blinking until my vision becomes clear, eyes tired from devouring the tiny words on the page, I'm greeted with one of Adam's signature smiles.

"Must be good," He points to the pages in my hands, adjusting a backpack on his shoulder. "It's already five,"

"Is it?" I drop the packet to my desk and stretch my arms above my head, stifling a yawn. Checking the clock hanging on my wall, I notice that he's right. I've worked straight through the afternoon, with not even one coffee break. "It's a thriller, you would probably like it,"

Adam leans against the doorframe. "Lucky, I've been going over a romance all day - you could've at least given me the chance to swap,"

Grabbing my things from my desk, I chuckle at his response. We do swap sometimes - I'll take one of his cheesy romances, if he takes, say a mystery or a crime novel. But not today - this piece was just too interesting to pass up. I stick the pages inside my bag in case I want to continue working later on once I'm at home.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I come around the desk and lock up my office once Adam leans out of the way. Walking by his side out of the building, I promise to switch next time I get another good one.

In the parking lot, Adam walks me to my car,
placing a hand on my hood. "Hey, some of us are going for drinks, you in?"

His eyes are hopeful, making turning the offer down that much harder. "I actually have a friend visiting from out of state," I explain. Not exactly the truth, but not exactly a lie, either. "Next time, though."

Adam nods before finding his car keys in his pocket. "I'm holding you to that, Emma." He flashes one of his full-face smiles before hopping into his car and driving off.

Watching after his car, I feel a twinge of disappointment that I'm not integrating myself into the community fabric of the company, even if that means spending an evening with Lizzie and Tori. But as I settle into my own car, the thought fades away, replaced by excited anticipation at seeing Beau again. I told him I wanted to go slow, and with the exception of my one moment of total lack of self control, I've done a good job at keeping us that way.

I made him wait a week before agreeing to see him again, and I've made sure to keep our communication very seldom in between our visits. I don't want to get too attached... I've already seen how that story ends.

Still, pulling into the small parking lot behind the discrete recording studio brings the nostalgia back in waves. I dial Beau's number to let him know I'm on my way up, but he doesn't pick up, so I enter the building anyways, nervous jitters propelling me forward.

Humming to myself, a tune that sounds obnoxiously similar to Beau's single, I hop in the elevator and wait to arrive at the top floor - the one Beau likes to rent out just for himself. Smiling to myself at the memory of watching him work on his lyrics so long ago, I raise my hand and knock gently on the studio door.

As it swings open, I can't help the smile that grows on my face. That is, until I'm greeted by a tiny young woman with tan skin and cropped black hair. Her pixie like face is accentuated by heavy liner and a septum piercing.

Well, you're not Beau.

Her deep maroon lips pull into a polite smile. "Can I help you?" The room behind her is dim and quiet through the crack in the doorway.

"Um," I take a step back and double check the studio number on the wall, before looking behind me to confirm the correct floor. "I was looking for-"

"Emma!" Beau appears behind the woman, towering over her petite frame.

"Beau?" My voice is full of question, but his expression gives away nothing.

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