Weird

As soon as Ray walked into the cafeteria accompanied by Joey, a hush fell over the room. Every employee in the vast, bustling space stood up as if on cue, their trays and forks clattering in nervous unison.

"Okay, this is weird," Ray muttered under his breath, causing Joey to raise his hand to motion them back into their seats. As if they were strings attached to his fingers, the employees promptly sat back down, their stiff postures and forced smiles still firmly in place.

Ray sighed, taking a seat at an empty table with Joey by his side. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the air heavy with the aroma of spaghetti, meatloaf, and stress.

"Why is everyone acting like they're at a funeral?" Ray asked, his brow furrowed as he scanned the room, his gaze landing on a group of employees nervously spooning soup into their mouths as if they expected it to explode.

Joey, grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Well, Ray, you are the most powerful CEO in the city. They probably think one wrong move and you'll have me have them packing."

Ray rolled his eyes. "They're not wrong, but I’m not about to fire anyone in your own company especially in the middle of lunch. What kind of heartless monster do they think I am?"

Joey snickered and pointed towards the serving area, where a burly man in a white apron was serving himself "That's Charles, the head of production. A real stickler for the rules. Also, fun fact, he's considered the most handsome of the four guys."

Ray shot Joey a withering look. "And how exactly is that relevant with us having our lunch?"

Joey shrugged. "You came all the way from your company and wanted to come down here to see the men your wife works with, didn't you? I’m just providing commentary."

"Joey," Ray said slowly, his voice dangerously calm, "I came down here to eat. Is that a crime?"

"Not at all," Joey replied, his tone far too cheerful for Ray's liking. "But I doubt you’re here just for the food."

Before Ray could retort, his attention was drawn to the serving area. Samira, had just walked in, flanked by three men who looked like they had walked straight out of a men's fashion magazine. One of them even had his arm casually draped around her shoulders, laughing at something she said.

Joey looked over at his friend, leaned in closer before whispering to him. "Turns out they’re all good-looking, right?"

Ray's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he continued to watch the scene in front of him. Samira was laughing, her eyes crinkling in that way they did when she found something genuinely funny. And the guy with his arm around her was clearly enjoying her company a bit too much for Ray's liking.

"Now tell me you’re not jealous," Joey whispered, his voice teasing him like in a sing-song.

Ray scowled, tearing his gaze away from Samira with a force of will. "I’m not jealous," he snapped, though the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. "She means nothing to me, and whoever she flirts with is none of my concern."

Joey chuckled, his voice low and with a hidden meaning. "Sure, buddy. Keep telling yourself that."

Ray busied himself with his food, stabbing a fork into his salad with unnecessary force. "I'm not jealous," he repeated, more to himself than anyone else.

"Of course not," Joey agreed, nodding solemnly, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just a healthy dose of…concern."

Ray didn’t dignify that with a response, though his scowl deepened, and he stabbed his lettuce even harder.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the cafeteria, Samira sat quietly at her table, her tray untouched. She had been watching the entire scene unfold with her usual unflappable composure, her dark eyes glinting with something between amusement and exasperation.

Joey caught sight of her and nudged Ray, nodding towards her table. "You should take notes from your wife. Look at her, calm and collected, not a care in the world."

Ray glanced over at Samira, who was now glaring silently at her salad as if it had personally offended her. "Samira? Calm? She’s probably plotting someone’s downfall right now."

Joey chuckled. "Maybe. But at least she’s subtle about it. Unlike someone I know."

Ray groaned, rubbing his temples as if to ward off the headache Joey was undoubtedly causing. "Why did I even come for lunch in your company?"

"For free food and to see me, obviously," Joey said with a grin. "Plus, I make a great buffer. You know, in case you lose your cool and decide to flip a table."

Ray shot him a look that clearly said the idea was tempting. "I’m not flipping any tables."

"Good to know," Joey replied, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Because that would definitely get you into a scandal."

Ray couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that escaped him. "You know what? I just might let you help me create the scandal instead."

"Nice try, bro," Joey said, raising his sandwich in a mock salute. "But my company isn't into scandals."

Ray sighed, finally giving in to the absurdity of the situation. "Why are you like this?"

"Because you I love you," Joey replied with a wink.

Ray groaned again, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. As annoying as Joey could be, he had to admit that the guy had a point—maybe he was a little more invested in Samira's lunch companions than he cared to admit.

But he wasn’t about to give Joey the satisfaction of saying so.

Instead, he turned his attention back to his food, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind that kept pointing out the way Samira's eyes sparkled when she laughed. The cafeteria buzzed on around him, the tension slowly dissolving into the background noise of clinking trays and murmured conversations.

And from across the room, Samira’s continue to secretly glare at Ray unnoticed by everyone except the salad in her plate that was now thoroughly intimidated.