Chapter 12

The following Monday morning Dusty arrived at Goldstone just as the sun was rising. Looking every inch the professional, she'd made time to pop in to Starbucks for a latte, desperately needing the injection of caffeine.

At such an early hour, the elevators were always relatively empty. There were a handful of other eager workers starting their day, and the cleaners from the night before were also clearing out at that time. Dusty made a concerted effort to say hello to everyone she passed, even though half of them ignored her. She was determined to be friendly even if no one else was.

"Morning, Miss Black," Jeff greeted her as she settled down at her cubicle. She'd attempted to personalize it a little by placing a picture of her and Ashley up near her monitor. It was a picture taken back at Princeton, during a rave party where they both had neon paint streaked across their cheeks. The picture always brought a smile to Dusty's face as she remembered what a great night they'd had.

"Is it really morning? It was so dark when I left my apartment that I wasn't sure," Dusty joked, feeling more comfortable with her manager and able to do so. Jeff smiled and looked towards the windows, where the sun was now committed to its ascent up over the city.

"Would you rather stay in bed and miss that?" he asked, looking out at the impressive sunrise.

"It is beautiful," Dusty admitted. Jeff placed a stack of papers on her desk, her assignments for the day, and then noticed the picture she'd put up. She looked at it for a moment and then smiled again.

"Your girlfriend looks nice," he commented.

"Oh." Dusty blushed and became flustered, realizing his mistake. "No, that's Ashley. She's my best friend. We're not like... together."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Jeff looked devastated by his mistake.

"It's okay." Dusty smiled sweetly at him.

"So are you in a any relationship?" Jeff asked, trying to change tack and continuing to look embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Not at the moment," Dusty admitted. "What about you?"

"Divorced," Jeff explained, then added, "for the second time."

"Oh." Dusty looked at him sadly, seeing the story of his failed marriages etched in the small lines around his eyes.

"I'm married to my job these days," Jeff said, looking back at the sunrise. Dusty wasn't sure how to respond, so she switched on her computer and began logging in to the company system. "This job can suck you in and consume you," Jeff continued. "But lately, with you helping me, I've had more time. Heck, I might even manage to get a life and find the third Mrs. Masterson."

"Good luck with that." Dusty laughed.

"Now get to work," Jeff said teasingly, heading into his office. In the quiet of the early morning, Dusty liked to drink her latte and eat the bagel she'd hurriedly prepared at her apartment. It always felt like the calm before the storm.

Soon all the other workers would flood in, the phones would start ringing, and the office air would be full of endless chatter and noise. But for now it was quiet, and she liked it like that. Dusty worked best when she could tune out the rest of the world and concentrate simply on the task at hand. As such, Jeff permitted her to listen to music while she worked after she explained that it helped. It prevented her from being distracted and dragged into idle conversations.

And so part of her morning ritual involved getting out her iPad, putting it on charge and selecting the most recent playlist Ashley had sent her, and putting in her headphones. Ashley was always sending Dusty music. Her playlists were usually a mixture of songs they'd loved at Princeton and new music she'd heard out in Los Angeles, which she insisted Dusty would love.

She was usually right. Whenever she listened to music, Dusty would always briefly think of Kyera. She was always so passionate about what music she liked; she had no doubt that she'd have loved to send her a playlist to listen to at work. She'd considered calling her again, to check in on how she was doing, but simply hadn't had the time. She was always so tired after work. She'd make dinner; call her mom and then Skype with Ashley. Once she even fell asleep mid-conversation with one of them.

The weekend offered some precious spare time, but Dusty was still adjusting to city life, stocking up on food and getting her laundry done on those days. But she vowed to call Kyera at some point. She was never far from her thoughts, and she wanted to know how she was doing.