Monday arrives and Chloe's teasing is finally subsiding. It has taken three full days of work and a weekend for her to get it out of her system. At times I would completely forget about it and then she would bait me into a situation where she could pull out the phrase "your face is nice" or something like that time and time again.

Many would be irritated by her teasing but, to be quite honest, I would probably do the exact same thing if the roles were reversed and that's why I'm relatively okay with it. When we were brought into this world we had both definitely received an extra dose of sarcasm which was part of the reason why we got along so well.

Thankfully, Chloe refrained from teasing me when others were around at work, keeping all her mischievous comments for when it was just the two of us, or making subtle hints that only I would understand if others did happen to be around and the opportunity was too tempting for her.

I've made it through an hour of work so far with Chloe being present and without any comments being made, the two of us simply catching up over how our weekends went like we always do while it still isn't too busy yet. She fills me in on how she accidentally bumped into some family members over the weekend whilst out with this guy she'd been dating for a while now but hadn't told them about.

She had hoped that they would actually manage to keep their mouths closed about this one bit of information for once but as expected they didn't, herself receiving a comment from her parents when she visited them that she should try dating a good Chinese boy who could afford to buy pants without rips in them. Clearly the idea of intentionally ripped jeans or diversity wasn't too desirable for them.

Her misery is my guilty pleasure for a moment as I revel in the idea of myself not being the only one suffering with their personal and romantic life. I refrain from laughing too much as I relate to the older generation's inability to understand why we would actually pay for damaged clothing. My Baba actually once gave me money to buy new pants after she saw me wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans.

Her stories do reassure me that I had made a wise decision in keeping my romantic life as far away as possible from my family. I didn't exactly have a substantial record, having only the two boyfriends so far in my life, but the most my family knew about them were their names.

"So what are you going to do now?" I ask her, curious as to what her plan was since I didn't know what I would possibly do if my family didn't approve of who I was dating.

"Well I'm gonna continue dating him. It's not like my parents have to be with whoever I ultimately end up with. I'll be the one spending my life with them so I'm definitely not gonna let ripped clothing or race deter me from a decent guy." she tells me, saying all the right words which I wish some people would understand. Unfortunately, not many do seem to see things this way.

"You're definitely right about that." I agree, "Though my grandmother actually recommended that I give myself a break from guys. Sometimes I wonder if that's some advice I should consider." I add.

Chloe chuckles under her breath as she spins her desk chair and herself away from me to move closer to her own desk as more people begin to file into the office. This seems like the right decision with Monique's imminent arrival a crucial factor to consider.

"Oh the irony." she laughs, just as I notice Monique exiting from the elevator. The sound of her heels hitting the tiles soon follows as she struts her way to my desk, clad in her choice of expensive designer clothing for the day.

Before she can even open her mouth I know what words she will utter as her latest demand. Since mine and Chloe's earlier visit to the trendy cafe The Shed, as per Monique's requests, she had developed an obsession with their coffee. Now, each day upon Monique's arrival I would receive an order to take with me to this cafe as she lived out her latest obsession.

Two out of the three times I have been so far Chloe has accompanied me, having not been able to come along with me on Thursday morning due to being busy with some task.

Two out of the two additional times that I had been to this cafe after the events of Wednesday I had found myself unconsciously looking around the cafe in case I could sight someone in particular. After coming back from the cafe on Wednesday morning I had only then realised how close it was to where Theo and Damon worked so Theo's presence there shouldn't have been too surprising. This thought plays around in my mind each time as I subtly attempt to look around the overflowing room.

Over the last few days I find myself reminded of the days of high school life and the persistent overwhelming thoughts a crush would fill you with. Celebrity crushes were one thing but when you got that first crush in real life, typically in your middle school or high school days, it was taken to a whole new level. I could still remember my first high school crush, and probably every other girl in my grades: Jacob Wethers.

It was freshman year and I had just entered this strange new environment only to be introduced to Jacob, a boy who had quickly been established as the cutest guy of the grade and had somehow pressed fast forward on puberty while other guys were still waiting for their voices to crack. He had just moved to the area and was the mysterious guy everyone wanted to know, the kind of guy that was everyone's type.

Me and every other girl in my class would watch the door everyday to see if he would walk through it, usually late because that was just how Jacob was. If he did we would all instantly be on alert to try and gain any attempt to capture his attention. If he didn't then it would sometimes feel like a waste of day, a waste of the cute ribbon that I would add to my hair or layer of LipSmackers I would have put on.

Thankfully, this borderline obsession would lessen within a month or two and completely die off by the time Thanksgiving break came around. The same could not have been said for all the other girls including my own bestie of many a year at that point, Jess.

Regardless of my own crush diminishing within that short period of time, I would have been left with time tearing it town if it had continued, with my move to Australia taking place a year later. Once I arrived in Sydney where I continued my schooling I would not establish such a crush again, learning from my past and just enjoying my youth with some simple recognition of some attractive people but nothing developing further.

That would soon change when my senior years came and I was exposed to different people as my classes changed. It was in my business studies class that I would spend more time around quintessential Australian beach boy Sam Walker. He had medium length golden waves which perfectly complimented the bright blue of his lively eyes and the sun kissed shade of his skin; an appearance right out of the movies.

I think what I seemed to like about him the most was how down to earth he was. Where someone else who looked that physically appealing to people, like Jacob Wethers for one, would play to such advantages by having their pick of company and letting it get to their head, Sam never did. He was someone that could truly speak with and get along with anyone, a class-clown and sweet boy next door.

Nevertheless, I had somehow managed to control this particular infatuation. I developed an ability to convince myself that I was being ridiculous and that it was all pointless, the best strategy for a realistic, time-saving and practical person such as myself.

There would be days of weakness, when we would interact somehow or a rush of hormones would get to me, and I would find myself giving into the crush for the slightest amount of time, but then I would drag myself back into my pool of reality.

This strategy of mine would prove effective until my final year of high school came around and my class would receive a seating arrangement in order to encourage teamwork and get those who were doing better to help those who weren't. And of course I, the business nerd, would find myself seated next to Sam, the smart yet distracted student.

Good news for my inner romantic. Bad news for the dominant realist side of me.

So for some months to come I would find myself by Sam's side three out of the five days that I would be at school. Those couple of months would quickly play games with my mind and heart, it all beginning with a look here and a question there. Before I knew it, we would speak to each other nearly every lesson, a definite boost to my confidence and sense of hope. We would develop personal jokes and habits as he continually forgot to bring a pen or something like that and I would always have a spare.

Then graduation came and passed, as did our final exams, and I knew that I would probably never see him again. We never spoke outside of school despite being Facebook friends, and we didn't run in the same circles.

It was the dose of reality I needed to get me out of my idealistic dream state, and it worked. I didn't see him for months on end and it aided me as I left behind my high schools days and launched myself into university and adult life.

That was until my friend Melissa's eighteenth birthday party came around in late March.

I wasn't a big fan of socialising or mingling with people from high school, the majority of them proving a nuisance to me during my time at school, plus I didn't really want to go out partying and drinking like all the other people my age. Other Americans would have rejoiced at the fact that the legal drinking age was eighteen in Australia as opposed to twenty-one. However, having just turned eighteen myself a week or two earlier myself, I couldn't have cared less.

So, I begrudgingly dragged myself to Melissa's house party since she had always been a genuinely good friend since the moment I had started at our school. To no one's surprise, I would soon find myself sitting in the corner with my fellow reserved friends who didn't know all the other people Melissa had invited, hiding away from all the noise and activity.

But, whilst my behaviour did not come as a surprise to me the appearance of Sam Walker at Melissa's party most definitely did. He just sauntered into that backyard, casual as always, in his black skinny jeans and denim jacket, hair newly trimmed like he had never done before and face beaming.

As he had gone from person to person, greeting them and catching up, I had suddenly recalled that Melissa had told me a while ago about how he lived quite close to her. So, despite not quite running in the same social circles in school they would bump into one another every once in a while around the neighbourhood.

While I was still siting there letting my lightbulb moment take place, Sam had noticed me and instantly raised his hand in a wave that was accompanied with his typical bubbly smile from across the backyard. I had awkwardly returned the gesture, my low level of sociability and normality something which was lacking even then, not only associated with Theo.

After that short interaction, I had swiftly turned my attention back to my friends, not wanting to ruin all these months of hard work forgetting him. Yet, somehow by the end of the night I had found myself sitting alone on Melissa's front curb only to be joined by Sam much to my surprise.

We had gotten to talking, more than any other time before, making conversation to the early hours of the morning as we both sought to escape the mayhem of the party and found serenity with each other within the silence of Whitlam Street at 1am.

That special moment would lead to conversations being initiated online, further interactions at social gatherings, a friendship being developed and flourishing into something more; my first boyfriend.

Such memories of my high school days and past infatuations remind me that I must somehow control myself now too, as I had learned to once upon a time, while I await Monique's predictable orders.

"Elizabella, I want one of those Shed specials today. Get me a bagel too." she instructs me before she promptly struts her way into her office, closing the doors behind her.

"Chloe, you want to come?" I ask, noticing her observing this interaction from her desk.

"Hmm, I'll have to turn you down this time. Wouldn't want to get between you two lovebirds and your little cafe rendezvous." she teases smugly, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Quickly scanning the room for any company, I lift my hand to my cheek so that it seems as though I'm rubbing it or something only to lay my middle finger flat and clear against it for Chloe to see. This only makes her giggle more and I helplessly find myself joining in under my breath as I walk further away from her to the elevator.

When I get to the cafe I distract myself with whatever random thing is on my phone while I wait in the typical line to order. I finally reach the counter and make my order, not ordering any coffee for myself since that first time since I had caught up on my sleep, and then move to the side to await it.

Once again, I immerse myself with the posts of celebrities, family and friends so as to make the time go quicker and not allow myself to float off into certain thoughts or actions. I even search Sam's name on Instagram, now curious after thinking about him, but it comes up with no results. It makes me want my old Facebook profile back for a second but then I remember how sick I had got of it. I'm successful in distracting my self as my name, and not Ellen, is called soon enough and I quickly grab my order before I begin to make my way out of the gathering of people.

Unfortunately, as I am met with the clear sight of all the other individuals in the cafe who stand before me, I am tempted with the ability to scan the room for a familiar face. I give in to the urge and attempt to conduct my search but it comes up empty. All I'm left with is a sense of that same feeling that I had felt back in my high school days when a certain someone had not shown up, much to my dismay.

I return to the office, desperate to get straight into my work to prevent my mind from venturing further off into the depths of wasted time and headaches. I go directly to Monique's office where I find her behind her desk on the phone to someone. I attempt to leave her coffee and bagel for her without interrupting or distracting her, scurrying around the room as silently as I can as I leave it for her and collect all the work that she has left for me.

Just as I about to walk my way out of her office when I hear her saying "sorry, just one moment" behind me. I turn to find her saying this into the phone and not me before she moves the phone away from her face to cover the microphone with her hand and speak to me.

"Elizabella, I've left a package on your desk that I need you to send. It was supposed to be sent yesterday but it wasn't ready. So, I need you to get it delivered as soon as possible," she informs me, "Preferably within the next couple of hours. Get one of those special couriers of yours. It's just within the city."

Handing off a task to me like usual, Monique returns to her phone call before I can ask any questions so I return to my desk. As anticipated, an unsealed manila envelope is awaiting me. Beneath the envelope I find the intended contents piled up, awaiting packaging. As I prepare to pack it I allow myself to quickly skim through what appears to be a copy of one of our year end magazines which is coming out in the next week or so.

Sure enough, on page eleven with his brooding, suit-clad figure dominating the page, alongside a photograph of him hunched over a magnificent architectural sketch, is Theo. His eyes stare at you from the page, pulling you in to look at him and explore the text and images which fill the rest of the page. With the short time I have available before I really should have the package on its way, I allow myself a brief skim over the page which delves into the reasons why this particular twenty-five year old had gained himself a spot in the 'Under 30s to watch' section.

A quick glance at the the instructions Monique has left me informs me that this package is in fact intended for him, a physical copy specially made for all those featured in the typically online magazine. I make haste to prepare the package, placing the magazine, a message I have cordially written, and an invitation to the exclusive end of year party our magazine holds for a more selective group of individuals, obviously not including myself, into the envelope and inscribing the addressee.

Fortunately, my usual contacts for last minute courier services is available and is able to collect and deliver before midday. I receive a confirmation text once the package has been delivered and am instantly relieved of any worries that it didn't work out, allowing myself to continue on with my other tasks without the burden of my anxieties.

I lose myself in these tasks, following Monique around from meeting to meeting, sending emails, preparing documents and more. I end up missing the time of my usual break as I get dragged with Monique to yet another meeting and am forced to take my lunch break at a later time as soon as I can escape her. When I return to my desk after a much too short break I am met with the flashing lights of the phone indicating that I have missed some calls. I quickly move to check what I have missed, going through the voicemail messages that have been left.

The unfamiliar sound of a woman's voice fills my ear as the first message begins.
"Ms. Adams, this is Marichelle from Harrington, Albert & Co. Developments. If you could please call back me at this number it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you."

Once the message has ended I sit there with confusion as I ponder over why she was calling me. Was she calling me on behalf of someone or did she specifically need to speak with me? Did it have to do with the package I had sent or something else? Was it about Monique or me?

I call back promptly, not wanting to leave any of these questions unanswered. The same voice of Marichelle seems to answer my call after a ring or two.

"Harrington, Albert & Co. Developments. How may I help you?" she answers.

"Hello, my name is Ella Adams. I am just returning a call from you?"

"Oh yes, Ms. Adams. Thank you for returning my call so promptly," she replies, keeping me on edge as I await more information, "With your permission I would like to redirect this call to Mr. Morales. He had attempted to contact you when you were unavailable and would like to speak with you." 

Oh, so it was Damon.

I quickly check on my phone which I had forgotten under all of the clutter it was hidden by. Sure enough, I have a missed call from Damon waiting on my home screen for me.

"No problem, you can redirect the call." I inform her.

A few short moments of silence follow before I can hear the sound of a throat being cleared.

"Ella?" the voice, presumably Damon's asks.

"Hey Damon."

"Ella, it's good to hear from you," he responds, "I called your number but when you didn't answer I figured I'd call your work number that you gave me since you were probably still at work."

"You guessed right." I reply, looking at the time to see that it had just reached four.

"Random question, how do you feel about Christmas parties?"