Just around the corner, was a spot for sandwiches and burgers. Within a moment, it was decided that they would go for sandwiches instead because the fragrance of the freshly baked bread almost took them both out on the spot.
"I can't believe this spot has been here for so long, and I just did not have enough time to ever visit it. God, it smells so good!"
Bran chuckled. "I don't think you even paid attention to it. You have a tendency to focus on work."
She took a moment, making a slightly offended face before she eventually agreed to it. "You're right. This is actually on my way to Home. I've crossed it 1 billion times, probably already. It's beyond me how I do that."
Thought so, Brandon said, but let it remain in his mind. "Are you planning to go home at a reasonable time today?"
"Damn," Megan whistled, "what's with all this question? Coming for the jugular, are you?"
He chuckled, moving along with the line. "You leave after everyone else, you get paid the same every single day. You're making more effort than anyone, I will be honest, but that's not working out in your favor. You look tired, Megan."
He had noticed that, in fact, a lot of other people in the office were chatting. Brandon had come into a few people whispering about Megan in the cafeteria. For some reason, it was the hub of gossip.
After coming to know what other people saw, he agreed on it too.
For the next nine, silence remained in between them. Megan placed her order, and he followed with his own. And with his manners, Brandon insisted that he would be the one to pay.
Thankfully, as soon as they paid, another table got empty. They waited on it when the server came and cleaned it for them before they finally began to resume the conversation.
"Tell me," Megan leaned a bit ahead, " because honestly, it has been enough about me. Tell me, why if you come to America? You were doing quite good in London."
I came to America because I was asked to, for the sake of my inheritance and for the sake of the company. My grandfather left behind. Because for one, I cannot let it go to my cousins who would run down to the ground and two, it cannot be sold because the life of many depends on it.
Brandon shrugged. "I wanted a little change. I applied for a work visa and it got approved. So, here I am."
"That simple?" Megan said with disclosure in her voice and on her face. "I don't know, it doesn't seem like it."
He chuckled. "If you want, it can be because my pride left me at the altar and ran away with someone. Would you like that version?"
Megan giggled. "To be honest, you do seem like someone who has met through great tragedies in life. While you tell me to work less, you should try and do that yourself, and while you're at it, smile a little bit more."
Tragedies? Brandon smiled even though he hid his shock inside. Did he look like that? He had never noticed that.
"Yea, I am a sad puppy kicked off to the curb—"
Megan sobered up quickly and grabbed his hand, "Brandon—"
"It is alright, Megan. I could make checks on myself—"
"No, its—"
"Me." Killian stood in between them, grabbing a chair from another table before sitting down on it, all the while keeping his eyes on Brandon.