A Rumor of Real Irish Tea (Annals of Altair Book 2) by Kate Stradling

Author:Kate Stradling [Stradling, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Eulalia Skye Press
Published: 2012-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

XV

Misguided Projection

August 1, 12:07pm mst, GCA Regional Office, Central Phoenix

The four were left on their own for the morning. Quincy and Oliver had homework, and Alyson stubbornly insisted on watching the news. Emily retired to the small sofa in the corner with a presidential memoir she had found on a sparsely populated bookshelf. She soon abandoned it in favor of staring out the window.

The scorching Phoenix sun seemed like it could melt the cars on the street below. Pedestrians were few and far between, though a few bicyclists did brave the heat. When Ben Birchard’s head poked out of a cab, Emily perked with interest. He had a brown paper bag with him—lunch, she sincerely hoped.

He jogged across the hot pavement toward the building and out of sight. Emily turned from the window and pretended to read the memoir on her lap. The elevator down the hall chimed and Ben appeared, sack in one hand and a thick manila file in the other.

“I’ve brought lunch,” he announced as he set both items on the table.

Alyson flipped off the television and scampered to his side with a nervous laugh. “You shouldn’t have.” Ben smiled at her, which triggered more fluttering eyelashes.

Emily scowled.

“I hope you didn’t get me anything with pickles,” said Oliver. “I hate pickles.”

“I got you pickle loaf smothered with extra pickles and pickle relish on the side,” Ben said as he fished around in the bag. “Enjoy.” He handed a wrapped sandwich to Oliver, who opened it to reveal a cheeseburger. The boy thoroughly examined every layer.

Ben, meanwhile, continued to hand out the contents of his sack like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. “For Quincy, another burger. I hope you like sauerkraut, Miss Alyson, because I went out on a limb and bought you a Reuben.”

“My favorite!” Alyson received the sandwich with worshipful eyes. Emily and Oliver each suppressed a gag, but for entirely different reasons.

“And for Ms. Brent.” Ben handed her the final packet with a murmured, “I hope it’s to your liking.”

She made a mental note to order something new the next time she went to a deli. Much as she loved turkey on rye, she did not like someone else anticipating her order.

To her astonishment, however, the proffered sandwich was not turkey on rye. She unwrapped, instead, a ham-and-cheese on toasted sourdough. Lettuce, tomato, and extra mustard completed the creation. She lifted curious, confused eyes to her benefactor.

Ben was in the midst of receiving Alyson’s extended gratitude “Reubens are so expensive that I only get to treat myself once a year, but I haven’t had one since my internship started because they don’t ever get corned beef up at Prom-F! Thank you so much!”. In the midst of this exuberant speech, he ventured a wry glance toward Emily in the corner.

He was making fun of her. He knew she always ordered turkey on rye, and he had intentionally bought her something different. Well, she’d show him. She didn’t care what kind of sandwich he brought, as long as it didn’t come from a vending machine.

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