Jennifer Colwell
“What are you still doing here, Callie?”
I jumped, sending my rolling chair skittering inside my cubicle. Although the threat of an evening snowstorm had sent everyone else in the office home at 5 p.m., Trevor Wilson had been clacking away on his keyboard for the past forty-five minutes. I hadn’t noticed when the clacking stopped.
“Geez, Trevor! You scared me.” I glanced up, blinking after staring at the computer screen all afternoon.
Trevor’s warm chocolate brown eyes were the first feature to come into focus, followed by a pair of boyish dimples and his ever-present grin. Obviously, he’d enjoyed startling me. “I could say the same thing.”
Our boss was retiring soon, and Trevor and I were the front-runners for her position. There was no way I was leaving before he did.
“I was finishing a project.” He shrugged. “But the storm’s getting worse. Why don’t you call it a day? I’ll walk you to your car.”
I flashed him a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got a few more files to review. Don’t worry about me, though. I’ve got four-wheel drive.”
“That’s okay, I can wait.” He leaned against my cubicle wall like he had all the time in the world.
I frowned. “It’s Friday night. I’m sure you have plans.”
There was no way Trevor Wilson would be alone on a Friday night. Not only was he easy on the eyes, but his magnetic personality drew people to him like a string of paperclips. He’d only transferred to our branch six months ago, but somehow he was already besties with everyone in the office. I, on the other hand, had worked here for the past five years, and half the staff still thought my name was Carly. But this was a promotion, not a popularity contest. I’d worked too hard to get passed over for Office Ken.
He shrugged. “There’s not much point in getting out tonight. But if you’re determined to keep working, suit yourself. At least turn on your remote start so you won’t spend twenty minutes scraping your windshield.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. I dug my keys out of my purse, walked over to the window facing the parking lot, and froze. “Uh-oh.”
Trevor came up behind me, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill radiating off the glass. “What?”
“The good news is they plowed the parking lot. The bad news is they buried our cars in the process.” I stared in dismay at the mountain of snow blocking my SUV from the freshly-plowed pavement.
Trevor pulled out his phone. “Let me text Sean in maintenance. I’m sure he’s got something to dig us out.”
Trevor’s popularity might come in handy after all.
His phone dinged, and Trevor frowned. “The good news is Sean can come help us. The bad news is he’s already at home. He won’t be able to get here for another hour, at least.”
“Great.” I sighed and stared at the snowbank engulfing my car. “Any chance you’ve got a shovel?”
“I’ve got a better idea. Are you hungry?”
At the mention of food, my stomach growled. The Coke and Snickers bar I’d eaten for lunch wasn’t cutting it anymore.
He smiled. “Follow me.”
I trailed behind Trevor to the break room. The vending machine full of stale Twinkies and salt and vinegar chips didn’t look very promising, but at least it was food.
“Do you have any cash?” I asked, checking my pockets for loose change.
“We don’t need cash.” He opened up the refrigerator and pulled out a pizza box from Marco’s, the gourmet pizzeria downtown. “Sales catered lunch today, and they always order too much.”
My stomach growled again. “That sounds fantastic.” As Trevor warmed up the pizza, I searched the breakroom drawers for plates and napkins. “Ooh, hot chocolate! Interested?” I held up a box of Swiss Miss I’d found buried under some old ketchup packets.
“If hot chocolate is your thing, I can top that. Marge showed me where she stashes the good stuff.” He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a container of Metamucil.
I wrinkled my nose. “If that’s the good stuff, then we have very different tastes in beverages.”
“That’s what she wants you to think.” He laughed and showed me the Ghirardelli peppermint hot cocoa hiding inside. “This keeps everyone else from stealing it.”
I tilted my head. “You’ve only been here six months. How do you know so much?”
“I pay attention.”
His brown eyes held mine for a beat longer than necessary, and I ducked my head. Thankfully, the microwave beeped. “I’ve got it,” I said, grateful for the distraction.
I set the pizza on plates while Trevor made the hot chocolate and found a large scented candle.
“In case we lose power.” I caught a glimpse of those dimples again before he lit the candle and turned off the overhead fluorescent lights. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like we were in the office breakroom anymore. It felt like…a date.
Before I could overthink it, Trevor’s phone pinged. “Is that Sean? Is he here?” As much as I wanted to get home tonight, I still felt a twinge of disappointment.
Trevor frowned. “The good news is Sean’s still on his way. The bad news is he’s stuck in traffic. The highway’s at a standstill.”
My heart sank at his frown. “I bet you wish you’d left earlier. No promotion is worth getting stuck in the office all night.”
He blinked. “I didn’t stay late because of some promotion. I stayed late to walk you out.”
“Oh?”
He heaved a sigh. “The bad news is I never got to walk you to your car.”
My stomach fluttered like the swirling snowflakes outside. “And the good news?”
The warmth in his smile put the breakroom candle to shame. “Getting snowed in together is so much better.”
When not writing, she’s busy reading, ignoring the laundry, and wrangling her husband, two kids, and an undisclosed number of pets at her home in southwest Missouri. Connect with her on Instagram and Twitter (X).
Spark Flash Fiction 