Free Distraction (Finding Me #1) by Jada Crystal Page B

almost felt like I knew this man, like we’d bumped heads somewhere before but I know that wasn’t the case. However, if you saw the way we were looking at each other, you’d think otherwise. And during this handshake, I swear it felt like we were transferring energy. He was giving me something I could feel via a handshake for goodness sakes. Could this be considered foreplay? In the elevator? At work?
    I have got to put an end to this.
    Finally, I summoned some of my own energy to pull my hand away from his and then – ding! – the elevator doors opened.
    I stepped off immediately, not a saying a word to him because I don’t know any elevator etiquette. I’m just focusing on getting to my desk.
    “I’ll see you around,” he said.
    “Yep. See ya ,” I say, not even turning around to look at him.
    - - -
    After that encounter, the rest of my day seemed to be just fine and for the first time since I started working at this dreadful company, it didn’t bother me one bit that James, my co-worker who sits directly across from me, talks louder than Samuel L. Jackson. I could care less that I was scheduled for three, one-hour-long meetings and that I had close to two-hundred emails to sift through. I was unfazed. Why? Because I saw him and that made my entire day.
    Then I had to go home...
    On the drive there, I’m wondering if Corey has anything planned because, though I’m his wife, I’m the last person to know anything that’s going on with him. Sometimes, we’ll be sitting in the same room and he would be on the phone with one of his friends, telling them something personal about himself or his job and I haven’t even heard it yet. Yeah, it ticked me off, but it happened so often, I became accustomed to it – the same way I’ve learned to deal with his lack of home training, specifically while we’re in public – how he would yell across the restaurant for a waitress, or talk on his cell phone entirely too loud with a sickening laugh that one should be arrested for.
    So I call his office and wait...and wait...no answer. Being the proactive person that I am, I get home and start on dinner because mama always taught me that a man will look for a home-cooked meal after a long day of work. Then again, my mom didn’t have a nine-to-five...
    Just as I finish getting some chicken battered, my cell phone rings. I look at the display and it’s Corey, calling me back. Now, my hands are covered with chicken seasoning and flour, and there’s no way I’m touching my phone with these icky hands. I step over to the faucet, turn on the hot water, pump soap into my hands and scrub them together, snatching a paper towel to dry them. Then I tap his name in my missed call log and wait for him to pick up.
    Here we go.
    “Hey baby.”
    “Hey, ” I say dryly. I try not to sound like I have an attitude, but I’m pissed that he didn’t answer my call earlier. He had caller ID. I know he saw my number flash on his high-tech, Cisco phone.
    He grins. Well, it sounded more like a grunt. “You sound happy to hear from me,” he says sarcastically.
    “I’m trying to cook. What time are you going to be here?”
    “Oh ...that’s why I was calling. You don’t have to cook. I’m going out with some coworkers tonight. The manager put this little thing together to celebrate Wilson’s promotion. You know today was his last day. He’s going to the Rock Hill branch.”
    I frown. Wilson? The only “Wilson” I know is the soccer ball from that movie Cast Away. And I don’t care that today was Wilson’s last day and I don’t give two farts about his stupid promotion.
    “And you couldn’t tell me that yesterday? Or this morning, even?” I ask him.
    “I meant to. It slipped my mind. Sorry.”
    “A lot of things have been slipping your mind lately, like that fact that you said you were going to get the oil changed in my car on Saturday, but you played basketball with your homeboys.”
    He sighed and said, “Here we