The morning started with the low hum of buses, suitcase wheels scraping across pavement, and coffee-fueled chatter. Our firm's annual professional development conference had finally arrived — a three-day work-cation at a sleek hotel two cities over, surrounded by lakes, pine trees, and the looming promise of "team bonding."
I wasn't sure what I expected. Probably name tags, icebreakers, lukewarm buffet food. Definitely Harper. That was the only certainty I had packed.
I sat by the window of the second charter bus, watching the city shrink into suburbs and then blur into green. My roommate for the trip, Dani, had her headphones in and was typing rapidly on her phone, probably in one of the three group chats she juggled with terrifying skill.
Dani and I weren't particularly close at work. She was newer than me but had quickly made a name for herself as effortlessly funny and bold — the kind of person who made lunch groups laugh and meetings move faster.
"You okay?" she asked suddenly, catching me staring blankly at the trees.
I nodded. "Just thinking."
"About work?" she teased.
I shrugged, avoiding eye contact. She didn't push further, just grinned and went back to her phone.
The bus jerked slightly as we pulled into the hotel's circular driveway. A flurry of excitement swept through the aisle — people gathering bags, checking room assignments, snapping pics for their Instagram stories with captions like 'Here we gooo 🌟 #conferencevibes'.
The hotel was impressive: tall glass windows, hanging light fixtures like waterfalls, and a staff that greeted us like royalty. As we stepped into the lobby, a few familiar faces from other departments waved.
"Carly!" someone called.
I turned to see Jude, ever dependable, juggling two tote bags and a backpack like a pack mule.
"You're rooming with Dani, right?" he asked. "Lucky you. I got stuck with Felix from Compliance. That guy irons his socks."
"Hey!" Dani said, overhearing. "I'm an excellent roommate. I don't snore. Much."
The crowd thinned as we received our keycards. People branched off in pairs, comparing room numbers. I spotted Harper across the lobby, dragging her suitcase beside Rae.
They moved together effortlessly, almost like a matched set — not in a romantic way, just… aligned. Comfortable. Rae had that cool ease to her, the kind of energy that didn't ask for attention but still got it. They laughed about something as they passed the check-in desk, and I felt the now-familiar tug in my chest.
"You gonna say hi?" Dani nudged.
"I'm good," I said, not unkindly.
Harper caught my eye first. Her smile widened when she saw me, and she raised a hand. "Carly! You made it."
I walked over slowly.
"Hey," I said, glancing at Rae and giving her a small nod. We'd already met — back in the office before. No need for introductions.
"Nice place," I added.
"Right?" Rae said. "Better than last year's retreat with broken AC and actual spiders."
Harper laughed. "We don't speak of the spider incident."
I smiled, but didn't say much more. Rae and Harper's energy bubbled so naturally it was hard to find space for myself in it.
"We'll catch you later," Harper said with a smile.
"Yeah," I murmured.
As I walked away, Dani fell into step beside me, humming something light under her breath. I was glad she didn't ask questions.
—
Our room was sleek, with two queen beds, crisp linens, and a view of the courtyard pool. Dani had already claimed the side closer to the bathroom, tossing her bag onto the bed and pulling out a mini speaker.
"You good with background music? Or are you one of those 'I need total silence or I'll perish' people?"
I chuckled. "Music's fine. Just not anything with screaming."
"Noted." She started a lo-fi playlist and flopped onto the bed. "Let's see what this hotel WiFi can handle."
—
The kickoff event was held in a chandelier-lit ballroom with round tables, company banners, and the scent of overly strong coffee. There were introductions, opening remarks, and speeches from department heads. Icebreaker games followed — painfully forced, mildly entertaining. Jude ended up winning a trivia quiz and proudly wore his chocolate prize bar like a medal.
I found myself seated beside a few colleagues I hadn't interacted much with — Maya from HR, who had perfect curls and a fondness for spicy tea; Samy from tech, who spoke in sarcasm and metaphors; and Ethan from finance, who quietly observed everyone with thoughtful eyes.
Dani chatted with everyone effortlessly. I drifted into small talk, trying not to scan the room too often.
Harper sat across the room at a table with Rae and a few others. They laughed easily. Shared inside jokes. Rae leaned in when Harper whispered something, and they both cracked up.
I wasn't jealous. Just aware. Of the gap. Of how natural it all seemed for them. Rae was clearly someone Harper was used to leaning on.
—
After dinner, we had "optional networking games" in the lounge. I lingered near the snack table, sipping a fizzy drink, when Harper found me.
"You disappeared," she said.
"I was never really here," I replied, then mentally kicked myself for sounding like a sad poem.
Harper smiled. "That's deep. Want to sit outside?"
We stepped onto the terrace, where string lights glowed and the air was cooler. For a moment, it felt like we weren't coworkers at all. Just… people.
"I'm glad you came," Harper said.
"I almost didn't."
"Why?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes new places make me feel like I'm trespassing."
She tilted her head. "I get that."
We stood in silence for a bit, the kind that felt shared, not empty.
"You and Rae seem close," I said again before I could stop myself.
Harper nodded. "We've known each other forever. She's family."
I looked down. "That's nice."
She touched my arm gently. "But that doesn't mean there's no space for someone new."
I met her eyes, startled by the softness in her voice.
Before I could reply, Rae popped her head through the doorway. "Harp! We're doing karaoke. You in?"
Harper looked at me, hesitant.
"Go," I said, forcing a smile. "Be the star."
She grinned. "You coming?"
"I'll watch."
As they left, I leaned on the railing, heart fluttering and sinking all at once.
Tomorrow would be Day 2.
And something told me… the quiet between us was shifting.