As soon as Naomi saw the text, a sudden spark of warmth bloomed in her chest, lighting up her mood almost immediately. The words weren't overly sweet, nor dripping with romance, but something about them—the casual charm tucked between the sentences made her grin like a girl who had just stumbled upon an unexpected treasure.
She clutched her phone against her chest for a second, let out a tiny squeal, and then, almost as if propelled by a force beyond her, she jumped up from her seat and hurried straight to Tasha's office. Her heels clicked against the polished tiles, echoing her excitement down the corridor. She barely noticed the curious stares from coworkers as she glided past them, her smile refusing to fade.
She burst into Tasha's office without knocking. "Tash?"Tasha swiveled around in her chair, her eyebrows arching playfully as she caught sight of Naomi's flushed cheeks and mischievous eyes. "Waoh, okay…" Tasha leaned back in her chair with a smirk, folding her arms dramatically. "I know I said all lunch is on me this week, but this excitement I'm seeing isn't all because of free lunch, is it?"Naomi giggled, shaking her head, the joy bubbling out of her too quickly to contain. "No, it isn't." She paused, drawing out the moment, enjoying the anticipation building in Tasha's gaze. "I'm going to dinner tonight." Her chuckle that followed was half nervous, half thrilled.
Tasha straightened immediately, her expression morphing from playful to investigative. "Dinner? With who, if I may ask?" she said, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head like a detective scrutinizing a prime suspect.Naomi bit her lower lip, savoring the drama. "Michael—oh…" She winced a little, catching herself. "Sorry, our manager.""Waoh!" Tasha exclaimed, sitting up so fast her chair squeaked against the floor. "Tell me something, girl!"Naomi waved her hand quickly, trying to cool the fire in her best friend's mind before it leapt into wild territories. "Okay, Tash, relax. He said he wants to discuss some ideas with me over dinner. That's all. I don't think it's like a date, so don't let your mind go there."Tasha wasn't convinced. She raised an eyebrow higher, tapping her pen against her desk in a rhythmic beat that screamed suspicion. "Mmhmm.""It's just a business dinner," Naomi added firmly, trying to inject conviction into her tone even as her heart raced with a different kind of excitement. "And more so, I'm not ready for any other relationship yet."Tasha leaned back again, a sly smile curving her lips. "Okay, ma'am. Why don't you go to that dinner, and then when you get back, we can discuss more about it?" She said it so cleverly, her words layered with knowing sarcasm, her tone laced with the certainty that she was already two steps ahead of Naomi.Naomi rolled her eyes, though her smile lingered. "You're impossible.""I'm observant," Tasha corrected, wagging a finger like a teacher scolding a child.
Naomi hesitated for a moment, standing in the doorway, and thought of telling her about the other text—the venom-laced message that had arrived earlier, poking at old wounds, dragging Jeremiah's shadow right into her day. She could almost hear herself saying the words: Tash, you won't believe what Jennifer just sent me.But the thought of unleashing that storm made her chest tighten. She knew Tasha,knew the fire in her, the way she wouldn't let it go, the way she would demand answers, confrontations, explanations Naomi wasn't ready to face. She didn't want Jeremiah's drama bleeding into this new possibility, this fragile bubble of lightness she had managed to find.
So, Naomi swallowed the words, smiled faintly, and kept it to herself.The moment she slipped back into her own office, Naomi leaned against the door, pressing her palms flat against its wooden frame. Her heart was still fluttering from the interaction. It wasn't just Michael's invitation that thrilled her—it was what it symbolized. For weeks, her life had felt like a tug-of-war between the past and the present. Every time she thought she was free of Jeremiah's lingering shadow, something—his calls, his girlfriend's intrusion, her own memories—pulled her right back.But this dinner? Even if it was just business, it offered her a taste of something new. A clean page.She dropped into her chair and stared at her computer screen, though she wasn't seeing anything on it. Her mind spun through a carousel of thoughts: what she should wear, how she should act, whether she was reading too much into Michael's casual confidence. She caught herself smiling again, and then groaned softly, dragging a hand down her face."You're ridiculous, Naomi," she muttered to herself.Her phone buzzed again, startling her. She snatched it up eagerly, half hoping it was Michael with another playful line, but it wasn't. It was just a calendar reminder. Still, her pulse didn't settle.Meanwhile, Tasha sat in her own office, grinning like a cat who'd just cornered a mouse. She had known Naomi long enough to recognize the signs—this wasn't just "business excitement." Her friend's laughter had been too light, her cheeks too flushed, her denial too insistent. Naomi was intrigued by Michael whether she admitted it or not.And Tasha? She was already scheming.By noon, Naomi tried to bury herself in work, but focus kept slipping away like sand between her fingers. She opened one report, stared at it, and found herself daydreaming instead: Michael, leaning across the table, his voice low and intent; the way his eyes sometimes seemed to linger a second too long during meetings; the possibility that dinner might not be just about business after all.She shook her head, fighting off the swirl of thoughts. "Stop it," she whispered to herself. "It's nothing. Just dinner."But her chest refused to agree.When lunchtime rolled around, Tasha popped her head into Naomi's office, eyes sparkling. "So, have you decided what you're wearing tonight, or are you going to pretend this is still just about PowerPoint slides?"Naomi laughed nervously, tossing a pen at her. "Out! Don't you have work to do?""I do. But this is far more entertaining and it's lunch time,finish that up quickly and come let's go get lunch."Naomi shook her head, but as soon as Tasha left, she leaned back in her chair and let out a sigh. Should I tell her? The question loomed again, heavier this time. Tasha deserved to know about Jennifer's text, didn't she? After all, they had always shared everything—the ugly, the painful, the beautiful. Hiding it felt like betraying that bond.But what if telling her ruined this fragile joy? What if Tasha's anger spiraled into confrontation, dragging Jeremiah's mess into Michael's dinner? Naomi pictured it: her best friend storming into Jennifer's space, unleashing words sharp enough to cut. The chaos would be unbearable.No. Not yet. She couldn't.She exhaled deeply, pressing her fingers against her temples. For now, the text would remain her secret. She'd tuck it away, bury it beneath the anticipation of tonight, and pray it wouldn't crawl back out at the wrong moment.And yet, even as she told herself that, Naomi knew—her silence was only buying her time.
She closed the report and head to Tasha's office,come on let's go,Naomi said while standing at Tasha's office door.