The afternoon sun was waning by the time Mia finally closed her laptop, the hum of the office fading as her coworkers trickled out. She glanced at the clock, realizing she had lost track of time. The conversation with Sarah had left her feeling oddly light, and the email from Andrew had given her hope that their working relationship might improve.
Packing up her things, Mia decided to head to her favorite coffee shop before going home. She ordered an iced latte and found a seat by the window, pulling out her personal laptop. The hum of conversation around her was comforting, a backdrop to her thoughts as she continued to type away into one of her personal novels.
She was so engrossed in her writing that she didn't notice Andrew walking in until he was standing right in front of her.
"Hey, Mia," he said, his voice breaking through her concentration. She looked up, surprised.
"Andrew, hi," she said, closing her notebook. "What are you doing here?"
"Needed a change of scenery," he replied with a smile. "Mind if I join you?"
She hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Sure, have a seat."
He sat down across from her, setting his coffee on the table. For a moment, they sat in silence, the air between them charged with unspoken words.
"I wanted to thank you for being flexible with the interview schedule," Andrew said finally. "I didn't mean to step on your toes."
Mia shrugged. "It's okay. Just... communication is key, you know?"
He nodded. "I get that. I'll do better."
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was more comfortable. Mia found herself studying Andrew, noticing the little details she had missed before. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the dimple in his left cheek, the way he ran a hand through his hair when he was thinking.
"So, what were you working on?" he asked, nodding towards her laptop.
Mia hesitated, unsure if she was willing to open up about something so personal twice that day. "Just... some personal writing. I have all these things in my head and I like to let them out in the form of stories, sort of like short novels. It's how I unwind after a busy day." Mia got out, suddenly a little nervous at having admitted so much to Andrew.
Andrew's expression softened. "That sounds really nice. What kind of stories do you write?"
"Mostly romance, some fantasy," Mia said, feeling a bit more at ease. "It's just a way to escape and create worlds that are different from ours. Sometimes, when the stress gets too much, I take a break from writing news stories and work on-" Mia awkwardly gestured to her still open laptop, "This."
Andrew listened intently, a genuine interest in his eyes. "I hope to read it one day. That kind of talent shouldn't be kept in the dark."
Mia felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. "Thanks, Andrew. Maybe one day."
As they finished their coffee, Andrew suggested walking home together. The evening air was cool and crisp, a refreshing change from the stuffy office. They strolled through the streets, the city lights twinkling above them.
"So, how's your current novel going?" Andrew asked, giving her a sideways glance.
"It's coming along," Mia replied. "Slowly but surely. I don't really have a deadline for it, not like I'm actually planning to publish it or anything. It's really just… for me."
He smirked. "Just for you, huh? I'm sure the rest of the world would love to see more of Mia Quinn's writing outside of the Daily Post. Maybe you need a bit of inspiration."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, and you're offering to be my muse?"
Andrew chuckled. "Well, I can't promise much, but I could try."
They stopped by a small bakery to pick up bagels, the warm scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air.
"Remember in college when you tried to bake cookies for the first time?" Andrew teased. "You nearly burned down the kitchen."
Mia laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "Hey, I got better! My cookies are legendary now."
"I'll believe it when I taste them," he shot back, a playful glint in his eye.
As they finished their coffee, Andrew suggested walking home together. The evening air was cool and crisp, a refreshing change from the stuffy office. They strolled through the streets, the city lights twinkling above them.
"You know," Andrew said, glancing at Mia, "I've always admired your dedication to your work. And now, knowing you write fiction too... that's really impressive."
Mia smiled, feeling a flutter of warmth. "Thanks. Writing fiction is just something I do to unwind. It's a part of me that I don't usually share."
"Well, I'm glad you shared it with me," Andrew replied, his gaze lingering on her. "I think it's amazing. And I hope you keep at it."
As they walked back to their apartment building, their conversation flowed naturally, touching on their favorite books, movies, and dreams. Mia found herself opening up more than she had in years, feeling a connection with Andrew that she hadn't expected.
Inside the elevator of their apartment building, Andrew hesitated. "Mia, I really enjoyed tonight. I'd love it if we hung out like this this more often."
Mia nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."
He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Goodnight, Mia."
"Goodnight, Andrew," she replied, walking away as the elevator reached her floor.
Misty greeted her with an excited wag of her tail. Mia bent down to scratch Misty's ears, feeling a wave of contentment.
Mikee had left a note saying she had gone out for dinner with some friends from her last job and would be home late, and not to wait up. The apartment felt empty again without her. She'd be moving in over the weekend to her new place, and despite it being close by, she was still sad to have her best friend go – but she understood the need for her own personal space.
She padded around her empty apartment, prepared herself some microwavable dinner, and while waiting for it to be done she got to thinking about what Andrew had said and decided to dive deeper into the world of literary fiction. Maybe it was time to take her writing more seriously.
She booted up her laptop and started researching opportunities for aspiring authors, just for the heck of it without truly intending to find anything or pursue anything at the moment. She was still fully committed to pursuing being a journalist, and she wasn't prepared to give that up. She wasn't prepared to let her parents down.
As she continued to aimlessly scroll, one posting caught her eye—a publishing company was looking for potential stories. The name of the company seemed familiar, and Mia realized it was the same place John mentioned this morning where he would be working.
She noted down the deadline date and contact details, debating the whole night if she should go for it.