I slap a bright red label on top of the box: HAZARDOUS MATERIAL. It even has a skull and crossbones underneath, for those who can’t read the warning.
I take the package back to my desk and leave it in my drawer. I’ll get rid of it later, quietly. Today’s Angelika’s birthday. And nothing is going to mar it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Angelika
As I sort through Rhonda’s mail, I start to think that maybe Roy isn’t going to send me anything. He always sends something gross and nerve-racking on my birthday. The “presents” are to remind me that he hasn’t forgotten about me, and that I’m not safe. How can I be, when he finds me no matter where I go?
Normally, his presents arrive in the morning. But nothing’s come so far. There was one time when the present came after lunch, but it’s almost three now. I doubt it’s going to come.
Or maybe he’s sent it to the café. If so, he would’ve been informed by the fancy private courier he uses that I’m not there anymore. If he tries to send it to my place, that isn’t going to work either, since I moved in with Tolyan.
Maybe Roy’s going to realize he’s lost me. I let out a shaky breath as the thought flares brightly in my heart.
I pray he accepts that and moves on, even though a tiny, pessimistic part of me says it’s highly unlikely.
“My goodness, you didn’t have to do that,” Rhonda says as she comes over to her desk.
“It’s no big deal. I’ve sorted them by project and urgency.”
“Thank you.” She beams. “Going through the mail isn’t my favorite activity. Wanna grab some coffee?”
I smile back. It’s so easy to be friendly with the people at the foundation. Given the tight security in the building, Roy can’t just send somebody in to see who I’m close to. Within these walls, at least, I’m free to interact with people the way I want. “Sure.”
The break room has an awesome espresso machine. The beans are also excellent. Their aroma alone makes me perk up. Apparently, Elizabeth is a huge coffee fan.
When we enter the room, loud pops burst in the air, and confetti flutters around. I flinch, surprised and blinking at the popping sound that reminds me a little of gunshots I heard when I lived in a cheap part of Chicago five years back.
“Happy birthday!” Rhonda hugs me as the people in the office clap and cheer.
I stare, stunned that they know because I never said a word about it, and pleasantly surprised that they decided to do something. I haven’t seen any parties at the office. But then, I haven’t been here very long.
“Happy birthday to you!” Elizabeth starts singing, and people join in. Tolyan watches the celebration with a pleased gleam in his pale eyes.
Maybe he doesn’t sing. He seems good at everything—cooking, running, swimming, security, dealing with his dogs. This could be one thing he can’t do.
Still, I wish I could hear him sing “Happy Birthday” and hate it that I cling to such a childish desire when I already have an entire office celebrating. It’s been so long since anybody cared about my day—in a good way—and Tolyan not singing isn’t a big deal. Shouldn’t be a big deal.
“Make a wish!” Patrice says, gesturing at the cake and the lit candles.
I smile, feeling like a star, and blow them out, my hands clasped tightly at my chest.
Please, please give me a happy ending.
Everyone claps, and I straighten up. Sparkling cider and soft drinks are served, along with slices of cake for all. Some reach for coffee. I smile and nod as people wish me happy birthday. Tolyan doesn’t make a move toward me. He stays in the same corner and sips his coffee, his eyes following me over the rim of his mug.
So I go over to him. “Hey!”
“Hello.”
“Some party, eh?”
He nods.
“Got something to say to me?” I’m fishing, but sometimes a girl’s gotta be proactive to get what she wants.
“How’s the cake?” he asks.