XVII: Mild Misunderstandings

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Wren was working again. Okay, he never really stopped working, not even when he helped out in the tea shop for a few days - but he was now back at the office. He can't say he missed it, really. But this project he had going on was a bit time sensitive, so he couldn't neglect it any longer. The long nights he spent working wasn't enough, he had to pop his Elliot-bubble and drag his ass to work. He'd been way too occupied with his new love interest to even care about work, and he had to admit whatever he'd accomplished those lonely nights he hadn't spent with Elliot was kind of only crap.

A few weeks ago his boss had "lent" him to another company, to review their finances and get them back on their feet, as they were on a slippery slope downhill. He hadn't exactly agreed, but his boss didn't care. So Wren did it. He wasn't scared of his boss, or that saying no might damage his career - to be frank he didn't really care about his career anymore, he hated his job. He just figured that the "change in scenery" he'd been waiting for all this time, might finally have come.

That was about as far from the truth as you could come. Nothing had changed. The people he worked with were new faces, sure, but still the same boring grey suits and cold facial expressions as usual. He was doing the exact same job, without much appreciation because whatever he suggested was met with great reluctance.

How the hell was he supposed to help the company keep from going bankrupt if they refused the agree to anything Wren tried to do? His job as a financial advisor, however, wasn't to force the companies to do what he said. He was merely an advisor, and they had wanted his advice. Not anymore, it seemed like, because at the briefest mention of reallocating resources or cutting down staff of investing in real capital to increase productivity, the CEO turned his head and scoffed.

He refused to believe that anyone could run his business better than himself.

Wren was close to giving up.

However, he was supposed to stay with the company until christmas, and before that he needed to save the company. How? He had no idea.

Instead of finishing the email he was supposed to send to the bratty CEO, he pulled out his phone to check if Elliot had sent him any messages - to his surprise, there was one. He had expected the man to be too busy baking too remember his existence, but that was apparently not true.

Whereas it might have been at the start of their relationship, things had greatly improved since then. Wren had made an impression, permanently, in the scattered mind of Elliot. He viewed this as a great success, and smiled at the thought of Elliot taking time to think of him.

The text wasn't much, just Elliot telling him of this old lady who came into the shop and rudely demanded a cake with a really weird name that Elliot calmly tried to explain to her didn't actually exist.

The whole thing was kind of funny, Elliot wrote, but he was also worried that it disturbed the customers. Especially when she left, screaming profanities and threatening to sue them. What a strange old lady.

Wren responded back, telling Elliot about his extremely boring workday, and how he couldn't wait to get out of the office and meet him at the shop. He read through the message several times, because he still hadn't gotten over that nervous feeling when texting someone you like, debating whether or not it sounded too creepy, stalker-ish or just pain stupid to send.

Eventually he did decide to send it, and anxiously waited for a response.

It didn't come in time for him to read it before a meeting was scheduled, but just as he walked into the conference room his phone vibrated in his pocket. Not wanting to seem rude, he ignored until they sat down, and he was sure the others were focused on the man in the front of the room speaking.

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