It was Friday afternoon. I didn't have time to go to the black market, as I was swamped. For the past two weeks, Daimon hasn't called for me once. I made it my personal mission to stay away from him. Every time I saw him, I walked the other way. Even if I saw a sliver of his presence, I got up and disappeared. I know I was running away, but I just couldn't face him.
Every day, I came here early, did my work, and left on time to hang out with my brother. It was pleasant; I laughed and smiled countless times. I wish I could bottle up the happiness and comfort of those two weeks to experience daily. My brother's presence brought relief and joy that overshadowed the bitterness I felt when he left me behind. His team delayed their arrival until the end of the month, explaining they needed more time to tie up loose ends.
My mind went back to yesterday.
"I'm sorry," Sam came over while he was helping me clean the house. His hand rested on my shoulder, which brought warmth. Sam's subtle touches grounded me, assuring me he will be here. It resembled former times when he sheltered me, confirming my well-being.
"For?" I asked, looking over my shoulder as I was wrestling with the vacuum cleaner that didn't want to unwind its cord.
"For leaving and not calling back."
I straightened up. "No, I apologize for not calling you as well. I should have made the effort, but the bitterness of my heart, thinking that you had abandoned me, clouded my mind."
"I did." Sam replied," and I can't apologize enough."
"I know." I whispered. "Just make sure that you tell me when you disappear again, so I don't lose my mind." I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt that I didn't make sure he was okay. Instead, I left the phone on silent, unable to press enter for fear that he had left me for good.
"I promise." Sam chuckled.
Though a sickening feeling of gratefulness that my brother's wife was in a coma brought him back. Shame washed over me like a storm, and I hid that shit deep in my heart.
I twirled in my chair, looking at the screen. I stretched, closing some programs, and getting ready to go to lunch.
Isaiah came over; he clapped his hand on my shoulder. "Looking good." He whistled, leaning in where he stared. "I like the typography you used. It's got that elegant futuristic look."
"That's what was going on." I replied, stopping the mouse on save.
"How close are you to finishing all the ads?"
"I'll finish it today. I might need to stay a few hours behind to touch up, but I'm confident I'll be done."
"Fantastic. Do you think we can get it launched on Monday?"
"Yep. I'm sure." I replied. "Heck, it'll be ready by tonight if nothing happens."
"That's a bold statement." Isaiah let go, "Let's go grab lunch. The others are ready."
I nodded, getting up. Freya, Monica, and Collins followed suit. We headed down to the cafeteria, grabbing a tray as we lined up to get our lunch.
"I can't believe we're being swamped." Monica groaned, "I can't even set up a likely date. I'll be single all my life." Her hips swayed as he brushed her hair back.
"It won't be that bad," Isaiah spoke with a grin. "Just one more week and it'll be a month."
"Let's not start counting down." Monica sighed, "You're already giving us too much."
"I doubt it. I believe our team is competent enough to get everything in order. We have one more hand here with Sarah joining us, which means we'll get things done faster."
"Well, I agree with Monica here for once." Freya moved her glasses with her fingers, positioning them. "We got more work this time than ever before . Doing two projects concurrently takes half the time to finish one project."
Isaiah waved his hand; he picked up his tray and plate, scooping up food as he went down the buffet line. Everyone followed. I grabbed myself a salad and some chicken and fish with vegetables on the side, making our way to an open table.
Voices chatted as many employees talked in chatter. The sheer volume of work and the approaching deadline left them utterly drained. Some had bags under their eyes, but many were still talking about the past Luna Gathering. Invitations for marriages were popular the past week. Even I were given a few, which I do not know who half these people were.
So many marriage invitations, I felt a flicker of jealousy. They all had found someone at the Lunar Gathering, while I didn't. I stuffed that unwanted jealousy where it should be, in a box in the back of her mind. There was no room for it right now.
We sat down, taking our time eating lunch.
"Did you hear Richard has found his match?" Monica spoke with excitement. Richard was her friend, and they were close. "He's been searching for her for so long." There was a wisp of want in her voice as she stabbed her food and took a bite.
"Congrats," Collins said, taking a drink. "I never expected that man to find anyone at the Lunar Gathering; he's what…30 now, and he's been single for 12 years? That's quite a long time."
"Yep, he wanted to wait for his fate." Monica waved her spoon.
I spoke up, "Why do you guys say it like that?"
Monica rolled her eyes at me, wondering if I was stupid. She flicked her hair back and spoke with her nose in the air. "Don't you know, you're the fated one. The predetermined soulmate that if you are lucky enough to find, you are blessed with."
"You sound like a romantic." I replied, probing for better understanding. How did these people understand the one they were meant for? Others miss their chances. I remember my brother's words: supernaturals inhabited this place. These people could be one. It all made sense now.
I was now searching for any hint that would give them away.
She snorted, pouting. "Even if I am, fate decrees it so. There is a saying at the Lunar Gathering: "Anyone who finds their fate during this gathering, it's expected to be blessed with a happy union."
"That is quite an interesting superstition."
"It's not superstition; it's the truth."
"Now, now. Ladies," Isaiah raised his hand to calm us down. "Sarah doesn't know the company culture. We have to give her leniency."
Monica crossed her arms around her chest, accentuating them. "I don't understand why Damion hires newbies like her. If they are not part of the clan, one shouldn't be involved."
"What got your head stuck up your ass?" Freya spoke. "You should know better that; thet the entire clan can't be working in cooperation. Not everyone has the abilities needed for certain skills. It's best if they go where they are useful. We are bound to hire others."
"Well, if I were the CEO, I wouldn't."
"Well, you're not. And who the heck are you to call Mr. Regis by the first name basis?"
"What? Jealous?" Monica spoke, wrapping her hands around her cup. She took a sip, smiling as she drank. "We are at that base."
Freya scoffed. "In your dreams. I heard Sarah say Mr. Regis' first name, and they talk, but you…Mr. Regis sees you once in a blue moon."
I snapped at Freya, shocked that she pulled my name in. When did I spill and say Daimon in front of everyone? The only time would have been at the Lunar Gathering.
"No, you didn't." Monica snapped toward me, "You're a shewolf trying to sneak into Daimon's grace."
I smiled. What an interesting vocabulary to define me: a shewolf. "You got a problem with it?" There was no way that I was going to allow this lady to get under my skin.
"See! She's trying to get into his bed!"
I chuckled, "I think that's you by how adamantly you are accusing me and how you call Mr. Regis by the first name. So, I'm done with this childish conversation and get back to eating lunch before I waste it on listening to you chatter about how you got into someone graces and their bed."
After that, I ignored her. Her screeching and mumbling under her breath didn't bother me; instead, I enjoyed my time talking with Freya, who was sitting next to me. Conversing back and forth about the normal things in life. We both finished at the same time, and we got up at the same time.
"It seems you've been in this company for a while and got into a beef with Monica." I asked.
Freya smirked, nodding. "That two-faced been gunning for Mr. Regis's bed for years. The last time she tried stupid stuff, she was embarrassed and ran out with baby powder on her face, looking like a bomb had exploded."
"How did that even happen?"
"One guy was pulling a prank in the meeting room for April Fools' and she got the butt end of it. Both got reprimanded, but it was the talk of the company. Luckily, it was a harmless prank, and it was April fools so they got off of it a bit more easily." Freya smirked, "You won't believe how long she stayed silent for that. It's not until, she pursued Mr. Daimon, especially after she heard about how Ariel and he had broken up with each other."
"He is a catch."
"Tell me about it, every single woman in this whole corporation is gunning for his next girlfriend, getting married into his family, you're set for life."
"Aren't you also after him?" I asked, curious. She didn't seem the type to.
"No, I'm waiting for my fate."
I couldn't help but wonder why they kept saying it like that as if I understood what they meant as if it had a whole different meaning that I couldn't put my finger on. "Is it company lingo to say 'fated ' when they find a partner? I know it's not normal to say it like that."
"Ah, yeah." Freya said it in a way that made me curious. She withheld something regarding the word. People rarely say they are waiting for their fate. Freya continued, "It's only for people who come to the lunar gathering. You could say it's our lingo…"
"Right…." What were these people hiding from me? An annoying curiosity gnawed at my mind, hinting at the importance of their secrets. But I didn't push. I knew I would have the answer eventually.
"Ms. Gibbons," Daimon called out from behind us.
Both of us snapped toward his direction, surprised at his unexpected appearance. I didn't even hear him.
"Yes?" I spoke.
"Come with me."
I looked at Freya, who looked at me as if she didn't have an answer why I was called. She motioned for me to go, telling me we would catch up later.
Daimon walked past me, heading toward the elevator. I followed, and we made it to his office. He loosened his tie, took off his jacket, putting it on his chair. He grabbed a stack of papers. We took confident steps; he walked to the sofa where he sat down and placed the paper on the table.
"Sit," he commanded.
There was something about the way he spoke that brought an instinctual want to obey; it took a moment to realize that command, as if something inside me was warring against it. I hesitated for a moment and walked over, and sat down.
I waited.