“Have you sent your tux out to be pressed?” Celia asked, a big grin on her face as she came into Trent’s office, a stack of files in her hand.
Looking up from his computer, Trent took a moment to register what she was asking exactly. He’d been so focused on the account he was reviewing, he’d momentarily forgotten all about the upcoming awards ceremony, the one Celia had told him about the day before. “Oh, no, not yet,” he said. “I probably need to get a new one anyway.”
“Why is that?” Celia asked, sitting down in a chair across from his desk and placing the files in his inbox.
At least she wasn’t sitting on the corner of his desk like she normally did. “It’s a long story,” Trent muttered, not really wanting to get into it.
“Well, I’d say I have time, but I wouldn’t want my boss to think I’m not working as hard as I should be.” She laughed, and he joined in, politely.
