Her nose was buried in a brief that she’d been handed -- One meeting down, another three to go. She was trying not to let him take over her mind and get on with the day but he’d left her mad. She didn’t know what he was doing (nor was she sure she wanted to know) that had been making him act the way he was. Had he been fooling around with somebody? It was Eli, the possibilities were endless. She knew that it was getting to the point where she shouldn’t have cared but she did, and she hated herself for doing so. She’d vowed to herself the night that Eli had shown up at her apartment that she wasn’t going to get tangled in his crap again, but it clearly wasn’t working. “I’ll call her through — wait, no that’s her just now.” The conversation going on at the reception area was enough to make her stop walking and look up from her piece of paper. Her gaze swept over to meet his, instantly remembering what she’d texted him earlier she hadn’t expected him to actually show up at her work. “So, you’re sorry now?” She questioned eyeing up the flowers he had a hold of. She sighed, she couldn’t exactly tell him to go but she wasn’t about to have the talk out in the middle of the reception area. “Come on I’m on a break anyway.”
Even as stressed as he was, Eli couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Emma so engrossed in her work. When he’d left hr, she’d been struggling a little, unsure about what she wanted to do. Now, though, she seemed to be in her element. It could just be an illusion, he didn’t know, but she looked good. He gave her a weak smile as she walked over, the look in her eye enough to increase his nerves – he of all people knew how intimidating Emma could be when she wanted, having suffered the effects an uncountable number of times. Unsure how to answer his question, he simply waited, holding his breath until she gave in and decided to grant him her company, if only for a short while.”Whatcha reading?” He asked casually as they began to walk back in the direction she’d come from, towards her office, he supposed. Maybe if he skirted around the actual issue, he could get out of dealing with it. He still hadn’t come up with an excuse, though he’d been mulling it over for the duration of his trek to her workplace. Masturbation? He wouldn’t have told her to leave. Smoking weed? Again, he would have invited her in. He couldn’t tell her the truth, not a chance, so what? If he didn’t come up with something, she was going to assume he’d been cheating, or worse. He didn’t know what he was going to do – all roads seemed to lead to trouble.