His hand found hers instinctively, their fingers intertwining between them. Within seconds, they both drifted into sleep, still touching.
*****
By Monday morning, Lydia appeared at Joey's door. "Mr Winsford, Sylvia is here to see you."
Joey exhaled a long, world-weary sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Send her in, Lydia," he said, straightening in his chair.
Moments later, Sylvia swept in.
"Syl. You good?"
"Uh…I will be," she answered. She held her bag against her chest.
"Come on, sit down," he said, motioning to the chair across from him.
"No." She shook her head, her hair falling forward. "I want to do this standing."
Joey blinked at her, raising a curious brow. "Syl, what's going on?" He leaned his elbows on the desk, studying her. Sylvia had never been like this with him. She would always seize every opportunity to sit close, to lean in, to brush his sleeve with her hand.
