38: Dear Angel Kent

Yesterday’s meeting had gone fine, perfect even. Calvin was in a good mood as he took the elevator to his office. It was 6:45 a.m., and he didn’t expect anyone to be there. But when the elevator coughed him out on his floor, the first person he saw was Destinee. She was trying to drag a table.

Calvin scoffed, dropping his briefcase on the floor as he moved to help her. Destinee looked up when he pulled the other end of the heavy desk. “Sir? You don’t have to.”

“I wouldn’t if you weren’t struggling,” he replied. He pushed the desk towards the wall with little to no effort. “Is that all?” 

“Yes, sir,” she told him. “It’s for Ivana.” 

Calvin thought as much. Destinee’s table was by the window, and Ivana’s closer to the wall. There was enough space between each desk to give both of them privacy. Destinee removed a coffee from the pack of four on her table and offered him one. 

“Thanks,” he replied. “All black?” 

“Yes, s