Bone Diggers - Chapter Forty Two

Loading... Chapter Forty Two

Andreah and Owen fell into whatever was their natural way of working the next few days. Owen arrived a little early for once, and oddly enough, so had Andreah. She was settled and already one empty coffee mug into the evening. Her job at the courier service must have been letting her off early.

Andreah looked up at Owen as he walked in. "Jorge is looking for you."

"Oh yeah?" Owen said, as he dropped his bag onto the chair.

Andreah nodded. "He told me to call his secretary when you arrived. But I'm not your secretary, so he can honestly go fuck himself."

Owen couldn't help but grin at her.

"Well, now that you're here, I'm going to go hide, and act like I had no idea you ever arrived." She picked up her laptop before opening the door to the small private office they rarely used. It was mostly reserved for when one of them didn't want the company of the other. She stopped herself from fully closing the door enough to look back at him. "If you want, I'll share, so you can safely avoid Jorge until you need to stream."

The room barely passed as a supply closet. Andreah sat on the desk while Owen leaned against the door. Andreah ignored her responsibilities for a while longer and messed around on her phone. Owen was about to say something, until he heard someone enter the other room. He moved away from the door and towards the desk, hoping whoever it was wouldn't check their refuge. Someone mumbled to themselves about needing to find Owen. Jorge. A few seconds passed before Owen heard him finally shuffle out again.

Owen turned back to look at Andreah who had her phone camera pointed at the door. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I was hoping if he caught us I could catch all the different colors his face turned." Now that the opportunity had passed, she put her phone down. "It's safe now. He's too lazy to check again, I think. Do you want to go back out?"

"I don't trust he won't come back."

Andreah smiled softly, leaning back with her palms against the desk. "Look at us slacking off together."

"Yeah, look at us..." Owen's words slipped out so softly that they gave a chill to the air.

Andreah glanced away as the sense washed over her. Owen could tell she had some comment tucked up her sleeve. She sat up, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I wanted to talk about the other day. What I suggested before I left wasn't true, I shouldn't have said it."

Owen almost wanted to mimic her body language, but instead he stood awkwardly in front of her. "It's okay. It's just...we're on the same team. I will stand up for what's right, and I didn't understand why you weren't. And I probably should have asked what you wanted to do about it." He fiddled with his jacket, not completely sure he was saying the right thing. Andreah simply nodded, before averting her eyes to the floor. Somehow, Owen found some more to say.

"When we broke up, I didn't originally miss you as much as I thought I would." Owen knew his words sounded harsh and abrupt, but carefully tried to hold Andreah's attention. "I was too hurt, too angry, too...everything. But now, there's no avoiding you anymore, and I don't think I want to, either." Owen shook his head, and looked away himself. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry I said things before I didn't mean either. I don't even know how you feel anymore."

A beat passed before Andreah glanced back up. "I feel cowardly, and nervous," she confessed. The tension she felt for weeks melted, and instead of pushing him away, her fingers reached out to touch him. Her eyes fell to her hands as if to silently question what they were doing as Owen edged closer. "I didn't want you to care, Owen." Andreah paused again, her lungs pulling in a wavering breath. "And I didn't want to care."

What had started as slacking off was now something so much more important.

"Are you nervous right now?" Owen whispered.

"Terrified." Her eyes danced around his face before falling on his lips.

"Me too." Owen didn't let a second longer pass as he reached up to Andreah's face, feeling the softness of her cheek before indulging in the velvet warmth of her lips. He could feel the stiffness up her jaw disappear as she leaned into him, her hand tightening on his arm as if to steady herself back into his world, and him in hers. He broke off the kiss, and leaned his head against her forehead. "You should have let me hate you," he whispered with his eyes closed.

"That's okay," Andreah smiled, and leaned back on the desk again. "I haven't decided if I hate you yet, either."

Owen's smile grew. "Fair enough."

"You know, there is a bit of time left before you have to stream."

He raised a brow at a vague suggestion before someone shouted his name. His real, first, name. The sound of it alone made Owen pale, and he turned towards the door.

"Oh wow," Andreah said, more amused than worried. "Jorge must be really pissed at you if he's calling you Alexander."

"That's not Jorge." Owen said. He walked out of their office and into the main room barely lifting his eyes off the ground.

Andreah followed and stopped short when it was indeed not Jorge at all. It was someone she'd never seen before. Without her heels, his statue was even more daunting. It wasn't that he was even that tall, but he carried himself like he was the biggest man in a march of giants.

"There you are," the man said, ignoring Andreah's presence. "I've been waiting in the office for you since four."

Owen slowly lifted his head to give the man a bored expression that caused crinkles around his eyes to form. It aged him in a way that added a familiarity between the two. "Maybe you should have called first."

"Maybe if you didn't give excuses when I did."

"'I'm busy with work' isn't an excuse."

"Alex, you are playing video games." He said the words with such disdain it almost sounded like he was selling knockoffs.

"I'm sorry," Andreah interrupted. "Who are you?"

"Walter Owen," he said, finally addressing Andreah and held his hand out to shake her hand. The handshake was firm, like he lived by the theory you could judge someone by it.

"Owen?" She glanced between the men and the familiarity she noticed before now made sense. They were related. Meeting your boyfriend's parents was always weird. But meeting your ex's parents was weirder.

"I don't have time for this right now. I'm going to be late for the stream. I'll stop by after work tomorrow, okay?"

"Which work?"

Owen stared at his father for a moment. Whenever his dad replied too fast, there was always attitude to the comment. But children can rarely point out such a thing. "We're doing a historical tie-in, so I'll be there after both."

"Does he give you this sass too?" Walter asked Andreah.

Owen threw his hands in the air muttering something to himself as he took a step away from it all.

"Oh, I don't know. It grows on you," she smiled.

Her charm had some effect, since Walter gave a little hmm before turning back to his son who was now leaning against the gaming stations. "Do you know where I'm staying?"

"At Rick and Emily's," Owen said. "Like always."

"I'll let you play your game," Walter said, turning back to Andreah as Owen was left to roll his eyes in peace. "Nice meeting you, miss."

"Same to you." Andreah whistled as Walter left the room. "So that's your—"

"Let's not talk about this," he said, soon realizing he sounded short with her. "Please."

She crossed her arms over her chest and held her tongue from any protest. "Well, since you said please."

The next day of work went slow. It shouldn't have been a bad day, The Gunpowder Plot mission was tonight, but the weight of meeting his dad later just dragged his mood down. Of course, the fact that he had to check over a sports article wasn't helping either. Crediting a layup or a three-pointer to the wrong player would greatly change the story.

Frank came out of his office glancing over at Owen before Michael, who was just waiting with his gear assembled. "Can you run downstairs and pick up whatever they have for us?"

"There is a package?" Owen interrupted.

"Yeah, the front desk just called."

Why wouldn't Andreah just run it up? They kissed yesterday, surely that meant they were close enough again that she could spend an extra minute in the elevator. Maybe the business with his dad was too awkward? "I'll go get it," Owen blurted.

Michael glanced over to Frank who just shrugged and returned to his office.

The lobby was surprisingly lacking Andreah. He stared at her would-be co-worker before the messenger realized he was being watched and looked up. "NYC Today?" the bike messenger asked.

"Uh, yeah."

The guy shrugged off a backpack identical to Andreah's, pulled out a package, and tucked it under his arm as he took out the tablet for Owen. Owen felt weird about it. Like this stranger was wearing Andreah's stuff. "Sign here."

Owen took the tablet, staring down at the pen like there was something wrong with it. "I thought, uh..." He picked up the pen before looking up. "A girl named Andreah did deliveries?"

"She doesn't work for us anymore."

"What? Why not?"

The man sighed, and dropped whatever professional script he was meant to follow. "Look dude, I don't know. She was let go. Something about scheduling issues."

Owen looked down at the unsigned square where his signature should go. "Oh, thanks for letting me know." He shook his head and signed.

"Yep." It was a bored reply and a tired exchange of the package for the tablet.

Even after the messenger left, Owen was dumbfounded that Andreah didn't tell him.