Her love is wicked

Chapter Three: The Woman In My Head

Joshua’s POV

The next morning, the first thing I thought about was coffee.

The second thing was Symphony.

Because I had spent the entire drive home telling myself she was just a hairstylist I met during a storm.

Yet somehow, while standing in my kitchen at 6:30am, waiting for my coffee machine to stop making unnecessary noise, I found myself remembering the way she smiled when she was trying not to laugh.

I blamed not being able to sleep.

By 7:45am, I was already heading into the city.

Chicago looked completely different without the rain.

People crowded the sidewalks.

Everybody looked like they were late for something.

Meanwhile, I was mentally arguing with myself over a woman I had known for less than twenty four hours.

The lobby of my office building was already busy when I arrived.

Several employees greeted me on my way to the elevator.

One of the newer interns nearly dropped her tablet trying to move out of my path.

"Relax," I told her. "I'm not firing anybody before nine."

The poor girl looked relieved.

My assistant, Rachel, was waiting outside my office.

"Good morning."

"Please tell me today's schedule isn't terrible." She handed me a tablet.

"It depends on how much you enjoy meetings."

I sighed.

"Terrible it is."

By ten o'clock, I was seated in a conference room with three investors discussing a new acquisition.

Work had always been the one thing that made sense.

People lied in relationships, people cheated, disappointed you but digits didn't.

Digits either worked or they didn't.

The meeting lasted for two hours.

When it ended, one of the investors shook my hand.

"We're looking forward to working with you."

"So are we."

The deal was worth millions.

A few years ago I would have celebrated.

Today, I simply moved on to the next thing.

Success becomes normal after a while.

That was both the best and worst part about it.

Around lunchtime, Daniel walked into my office without knocking as usual.

"I have a question."

I didn't look up from my laptop.

"That's never a good sign."

"Are you smiling because of money or because of a woman?"

He got my attention and I looked at him.

"What kind of question is that?"

“The important kind."

"I wasn't smiling."

"You were."

"No."

"You absolutely were."

I pointed at the door. "Leave."

Daniel dropped into the chair beside me instead.

"You met somebody."

"I got a haircut."

"That's not what I asked."

I tried returning to my work.

Too bad, Daniel knew me too well.

"What's her name?"

"I'm not doing this."

"So there is a name."

I hated him, enough to fire him but I couldn’t.

By the time he finally left my office, I was already irritated.

The problem was that part of me knew he was right.

Not about the smiling. but about symphony.

Because every now and then, she'd randomly appear in my thoughts, then I'd force myself back to work.

Around six that evening, I packed up and headed home.

That was the plan.

Instead, I found myself slowing down as I approached a familiar street.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"No."

I already knew where this was going.

"No."

The salon appeared a few buildings ahead.

I parked, then sighed.

Apparently, my common sense had decided to take the night off.

I wasn’t planning to see Symphony again.

Unfortunately, that turned out to be a bad idea.