The Memory Of One Night

CHAPTER 1: The Worst Monday Morning

“Do you know how disgusting you look now, playing house?”

Andra froze, her fingers gripping the spatula tighter.

“What are you talking about?”

“Please. Don't play dumb with me too.” He sprang away from the wall he was leaning on. She could barely look at him.

A notification pinged her phone. She saw the two red heart emojis on the contact name and turned to him.

“Nate?”

“A whole year of nights that you needed to ‘recollect yourself’, Alejandra.” His eyes were hard.

It clicked in her head when she lifted the phone, before she even tapped the fingerprint sensor.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. Tears gathered too quickly, spilling before she could stop them.

“Did you even love me, ever?” He looked stricken.

Her mouth quivered. She couldn't tell him how many times she had started to tell him but shame had stopped her voice.

“Why? Is that how little we meant to you?”

“Nate, please…I'm sorry.”

“Stop saying that! You know I would have understood if you confided in me.”

“I've messed it up badly, haven't I? What's going to happen now?” She asked. She could smell the pancake burning in the pan.

“Nothing. Just make sure you tell the next unfortunate one from the beginning.”

He had walked out and closed her front door with a polite click.

Now, two hours later, the lobby of The Langston Line’s corporate block moved fast around her like it was just any other Monday morning.

Her cream coloured silk shirt and chocolate brown tailored pants still fit her perfectly. Even her perfume still smelt the same. She wanted to laugh, really.

The smiles she forced for everyone who greeted her on her way up already made her cheeks ache.

When she stepped into the elevator, she leaned against the cold steel, pressing her hand into the mirror opposite.

Andra breathed loudly through her mouth, her eyes wide open. Then she straightened, wondering why she was trying to restrain tears by keeping her eyes wide open instead of shutting them.

The elevator pinged when it arrived on the 35th floor. She stepped out and walked straight to her office, setting down her laptop on her desk.

She was absorbed in sorting company emails to decide which would be forwarded to her boss, when the glass door clinked and opened.

“My office, now, Ferreira,” an icy voice said with obvious annoyance.

She looked up to see him walking towards the glass panel that separated her workspace from his, as if he hadn't just passed her a rude order first thing on a Monday morning.

“Oh, goodness,” she whispered to herself as she rose from her seat and followed him.

“You rescheduled the Jalil meeting,” he said once they were inside, walking around his desk to get to his seat.

Lucas Langston looked up at her with sharp eyes as he sat down.

“Yes, sir. To Wednesday at ten in the morning. They requested because…”

“I don't care if or why they requested. You should have consulted me first,” he snapped.

Andra drew back a little.

“You were incommunicado since the email came in on Friday. We had a 48-hour timeframe to send in a response.”

For a moment his eyes dimmed when she mentioned his being unreachable.

“So you now make the managerial decisions around here?”

“My job is to organise your schedule.”

“Your job is to organise my schedule…to suit me, Ferreira.”

Tight lines bracketed his red-rimmed eyes. Whatever had kept him busy over the weekend had also kept him away from his bed. His scowl made his mouth look harsher.

“I'm sorry,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “I'll cross-check and rectify any clashes present.”

“Go and get me the Q2 projections for the board call.” His voice was quieter, so much that she could hear her heartbeat as she turned to leave.

“Don't put any sugar in my coffee.”

She turned and glanced at him briefly. He wasn't even looking at her. Her hands were balled into fists by her sides as she walked out.

She dropped into her seat, grateful to be off her unsteady legs.

Before she could stop to think, the tears were streaming down her face. She held her palm to her mouth to stifle a whimper.

“Not like he wasn't eventually going to find out…why didn't I just tell him?” She whispered shakily.

The intercom on her desk beeped and Lucas's voice filtered out.

“I asked for a document,” it said simply.

Her spine stiffened. Andra gently wiped her cheeks and ran her fingers under her eyes, removing all traces of the moment of weakness.

She pulled a drawer and lifted out the file he requested, flipping through briefly to confirm. Then she took it into his office.

He was busy on his laptop when she walked in. She extended the file, her eyes trained on his desk like there was suddenly something overly fascinating about the burnished oak surface.

He did not take it from her until she was forced to look at him. The moment she held his gaze, his eyes softened somewhat. She swallowed involuntarily.

There was a flicker of something warm, but it disappeared so quickly from his eyes that she couldn't name it for what it was. Maybe she imagined it, but she thought she also saw a muscle twitch in his chin.

Andra blinked tightly. He collected the file, and she let herself inhale the breath she'd forgotten about. She curled her fingers into her palm until the trembling eased.

“Fix your face before the Board members come in. And the coffee,” he said softly.

She grimaced as she walked out and went to the coffee machine standing in one corner of her office. The one and only time she'd tasted plain black coffee had been one of Nate's silly attempts to make her like it. She had spat it out, and they laughed till her stomach hurt.

“You will not cry here, Andra. Wait until you get home,” she whispered to herself as the machine hummed.

Oh, but home would still smell of anger and disappointment and heartache and the pancakes Nate didn’t touch when she went back in the evening.

She blocked out the thoughts as she took Lucas's coffee to him.

When she returned to her desk, wishing very hard that he would have no need for her for the rest of the day, she saw her phone screen alight with a message notification.

It was from Donna. Andra opened the message. It read: Remember you're on tonight. Attached was a picture of the outfit she needed to get on her way home. Her knuckles went pale.