Oliver was at the office again. This time, donning an onyx suit and a blood red tie. He looked sharp and well put together. He was in the department manager's office, in a meeting. His back was to me, but the rigidness of his posture let me know that the topic of discussion was serious.

Lately I found that Mr. Armstrong had been crossing my mind often. I hadn't the faintest idea why, but he had been plaguing my thoughts. Something about him intrigued me.

Why?

Oliver stood up, straightening his tie. The department manager stood as well, shaking his hand and ending the meeting. Turning around, his emerald eyes captured mine for a moment. He had caught me watching. I looked down quickly and went back to my work.

Someone knocked on my opened door Looking up, I saw a petite blonde woman. She was probably a new intern. I could never keep track of them.

"Ms. Steele? Mr. Dowell wants your report on his desk before the end of the day."

I nodded with understanding. "Thank you."

I took a quick look around the office once she left, but it seemed that Mr. Armstrong had taken his leave as well. I sighed, disappointed that I couldn't see him for a bit longer.

Knock knock.

"It's lunchtime. Do you want to get something with me?" Adam asked from the entrance of my office. He looked at me with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, trying to curtail the anger that accompanied me seeing his face. "No thank you," I attempted to say politely, but it came out more strained than I intended.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Are you not hungry?"

"Oh, I'm starving, but that's beside the point."

"What's the point then?"

"That I don't want to go anywhere with you," I answered pointedly

Adam clutched his chest dramatically. "Wow, right in the ego," he punctuated with a smile.

"That's the idea, you could stand to be taken down a few pegs."

"I'll get you one day. Have a nice lunch Piper," he said, still smiling as he slinked out of my doorway.

"Ms. Steele," I corrected. He was no longer around to hear it. I grabbed my bag and dropped my phone inside before making my way out of the office.

-

I walked into the store around the corner and breathed in deeply. It smelled of fresh bread, sweets, and an assortment of meat. Even though it was the middle of the lunch rush, there was only a few people inside. It was perfect.

"Well if it isn't tall, blue eyes," the jolly, middle-aged man from behind the counter called.

"Hello Ed." I gave him a warm smile.

"What'll it be today?"

"A chicken and kale salad, if you don't mind."

"Coming right up," he said with a permanent smile.

I walked over to a table in the corner of the store and took a seat. Looking outside, I watched as people passed by the shop at varying speeds, from 'I've got nowhere to be and nothing to do' to 'my life is so busy, I have no time to breathe'. I've always wondered about the strangers I saw throughout the day, and what secrets they might be holding. I looked up and saw that the sky was filled with dark clouds that threatened to pour at any minute, despite it having rained heavily for the past few days.

As I watched what was going on outside, one person in particular caught my attention as he passed by. He was gone as soon as he came, but I knew that hair and physique anywhere. It was Mr. Armstrong. The more I thought about him, the more I seemed to see him. He seemed to be at the office more often, and now I was seeing him outside of work as well.

-

When I got home after work, I quickly slipped out of my heels. Sitting down on the couch, I massaged the soles of my feet. You would think that after years of wearing them day after day I'd be used to this pain, but unfortunately that isn't the case. They still tend to hurt like a bitch.

After I finally felt like I could walk again, I got up and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. I filled the glass to the brim and took a healthy gulp, sighing with content before walking back to the living room. Sitting down on my white couch, I grabbed my remote, pressed the power button, and watched as the screen came to life. A fair-skinned, freckled woman appeared on the screen, highlighting the top stories of the night.

"In other news, police are still searching for upcoming artist Daniel Rice's killer, to no avail. Here's reporter Pamela Keaton with more details."

Cue bubbly redhead at scene of crime. "Thank you, Emory. I am here in the Lower Hartland area where this brutal murder took place. Artist Daniel Rice was discovered here over a week ago in the early hours of the morning with a stab wound in the abdomen and a slit throat. As of now, the police have no evidence and no leads. If anyone has any information about this case, they are encouraged to call our tip line-"

I snorted and turned the television off. They weren't going to get any tips. Or any credible ones, at that. I took another gulp of my wine and snuggled into the couch, getting comfortable.

Even though I promised myself that I would stop thinking about Mr. Armstrong, I found myself alone with my thoughts, and they kept finding their way back to him. I wish I knew why. He was no different than any other man, he was nothing special. Well, from what I could tell. I knew nothing about him, except for the fact that he seemed like your run of the mill business man.

Still, something about him intrigued me. Something about him made me want to know more about him, maybe even study him, if you will. But how?

Taking my laptop off of the coffee table and powered it on. Opening up the browser, my hands hovered over the keyboard as I considered researching what I had in mind. I quickly abandoned the idea and shut my laptop again.

Alone with my thoughts again, the silence started to become deafening. I enjoy being alone, but the current lack of noise was making me uncomfortable. I turned the tv back on and started channel surfing, stopping when I saw that A Life Less Ordinary was on. Before I settled in, I made my way back to the kitchen and grabbed the rest of the bottle to take with me to the living room.

The movie was terrible, but it inspired me. As I watched, I smiled to myself as I sipped my drink.

I have a plan.