7

ROME

I noticed something different about Carly for the last three days. She wore pants instead of skirts, not that she wasn’t spectacular, even in baggies. Today, she tied her hair in a bun.

I admitted she was pretty good at her job. But that was all after she placed things on my desk— she left without a word unless I asked and concisely answered me as if she would pay a penny for extra words.

And when she looked at me, it was like she switched off the light in her eyes—she was good at masking her emotions.

I wondered if I had done something wrong or if this was her another day in the office. Anyhow, I had to admit that I missed her annoying opinions.

“Can you order coffee?” I badly needed caffeine, and I had no time to go down. I had to see the proposed plan for the next project.

“Of course, sir.” That was all. She left.

“Thanks.”

She paused on the door for a moment before she vanished out of my sight.

I sometimes missed the silence and peace, but I also missed her glarin