Edward didn’t take his eyes off the silver invitation on the small glass screen.

“May fourteenth is a Saturday,” Edward said.

“Yes,” I said, tugging the bottom hem of my shirt down over my waist.

“I don’t have any plans that Saturday,” Edward said.

At two in the afternoon, the gray metal filing cabinets in the accounting row were cold enough to chill my fingers through my sleeves.

I was sliding paper shipping invoices into the nineteen-ninety folder when Edward stepped into the tight gap between my desk drawer and the wall.

He held a stack of yellow logistics manifests in his hand, every page squared and lined up at the corners.