Abigail
"Where on earth is Tyler?"
The engineering floor reeked of coffee.
I had called Tyler's desk twice from upstairs. Nobody picked, so here I was, my heels clicking on the concrete floor while an intern who couldn't have been older than nineteen scurried ahead of me, pushing her glasses up on her sweaty face.
With the way she was glancing nervously at me over her shoulder, you would think I was a fire-breathing dragon demanding her first born child.
"He's in the conference room with the team," she muttered. "They finished the meeting like an hour ago so they're just, um… you know,"
No, no I didn't know.
Wild laughter reached my ears before we reached the door to the conference room. Through the glass panel I could see Tyler holding at the head of the conference table, his jacket off, tie loose, gnawing down on a donut.
I pushed the door open.
