As the plane travels northwest, I miss her more and more. When I left her, I left a piece of my heart with her. Maybe I’m not in love, but whatever I feel is too important to fuck it up.

As I arrive at the office, Devon and Gary are in a conference room. My suit rests on a chair, and the projector is on.

“Were you able to get the art department involved?”

“Yes, they had the drafts, I sent a request last Thursday,” Gary answers shrugging. “I was hoping my idea would be the one you presented to the client. They are just making a few changes.”

“I’m glad you were proactive,” I commend him.

“Well, I try my best to commit to this company. Unlike Ms. Solis, who is always causing problems among everyone with her attitude.”

“Ms. Solis is an asset to the company,” I say, instead of telling him to shove his comments up his ass.

“I’m just saying,” he says. “Just because she throws a few innovative ideas, the rest of us get overlooked. I personally don't care much because I’m here for the long run. Claire Solis is looking for the next big thing. I heard she’s applying for a new job, but I can’t be sure about it.”

I glare at him because he’s taking some jabs at my girl and she’s not here to defend herself. Claire wouldn’t leave the company. She’s worked too hard for the past three years to just pack and leave. He’s pissing me off, and his attitude reminds me of yesterday’s conversation with Claire.

When I asked her why she was so cold, she explained she had to grow a thick skin because some of her coworkers were petty.

“Let’s finalize this presentation,” I say, calming myself. “We don’t have much time left before we have to drive to the client’s site.”

We work for a couple of hours before the rest of the employees start arriving. I’m bone-tired and ask my assistant to bring us coffee. She delivers a latte and an espresso along with it. I’m tempted to ask her to book a plane back to Cancun, but I decide to do that after the meeting with the client.

“How was the wedding?” Devon asks after Gary leaves to check if the art department printed the boards.

I shrug. “Like every other wedding.”

“Who did you end up going with?” He continues the interrogation.

“Claire,” I answer casually.

“She didn’t cut your balls when you asked?”

I shake my head. “She’s not that bad.”

“Look at you, caring for your employees. You’re going all soft on them,” he jokes, but his attitude doesn’t sit well. “I wish I had known; we could’ve fixed this mess before the weekend.”