I throw myself into work, trying to stay focused. But like it’s been doing for the past few annoying days, my mind bounces back to Royce. I click my emails to see if he sent me anything in the last few hours but don’t see anything. Annoyance once again creeps up my spine. And now I’m pissed at myself.

“What is wrong with me?” I mumble. I think that’s the problem. I don’t even know the answer to that question. For some reason, I’m annoyed that Royce didn’t chase me the other day after I’d walked away from him. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, yet I was disappointed when he wasn’t there.

Then when he sends me emails, which I’m always checking, I get this stupid weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s frustrating not being able to control my reaction to him. To top it off, I know I’m being childish by avoiding him. I should be trying to work with him more. Help ease how busy I am at work, but here I am, being immature, which is something I’ve never done in my life when it comes to work. Though he seems to be solving a lot of my problems here at work without a lot of my help. Which only makes me think about him even more and all he’s doing for me. He’s going above and beyond and I’m acting like a brat.

Something about Royce isn’t sitting right with me. It’s like I’m missing something about him. I thought a few times about digging into him but changed my mind. I knew I wanted it for personal reasons, and I was not turning into some stalker like so many of my family members.

Dropping my head in my hands, I groan. I release a deep breath and look up at my computer to see that it’s time for me to meet up with Delilah. I pick up my phone from my desk and slip it into the back pocket of my slacks.

Reaching into the top drawer of my desk, I pull out some lipstick and put it on before heading out toward Lincoln’s. When I get there, I’m once again surprised to see it’s so busy.

I see Delilah sitting at a table in the back, two beers in front of her and a couple plates of food. I walk over, take my blazer off, and sit on the chair.

“Hey,” I say. She barely notices me as she looks around the bar.

“Hey,” she replies with a small nod.

I reach down and pick up my beer, taking a few big pulls from it and enjoying the cold burn.

“Something’s going on downstairs,” she finally says, looking over at me.