by Gina Wilkins
“You won’t need to take notes. We’re just going to talk.”
That was odd, too. They’d worked through shared meals but never just talked.
He was still acting peculiarly when they were seated in a back booth in the restaurant.
Sipping her soda while waiting for their pizza, Tess studied Scott over the rim of the glass. He was visibly preoccupied, but she knew occasionally it was possible to sidetrack him from his musings, at least briefly. She gave it a try. “Tell me a funny story about your nieces,” she suggested, leaning back in her seat. “I could use a good laugh this evening.”
He blinked a couple of times before focusing on her from across the table. Candlelight gleamed in his dark blue eyes. His hair, the color of strong, rich coffee and a bit mussed from the winter evening breeze, was brushed back casually from a shallow widow’s peak. A few strands of premature silver glittered in the dark depths. There was no denying that her boss was a fine-looking man, trim and tanned with a firm, square jaw, nicely chiseled features and a smile that could melt glaciers when he turned on the charm.
Sometimes she still thought of the first time she’d met him. She’d been struck almost dumb by her first sight of the great-looking, intensely focused man sitting behind a cheap, cluttered desk in his first office. She still cringed a little when she thought of how incoherent she’d been during that awkward interview. She wasn’t sure what he’d seen in her to take a chance on hiring her, but she was so glad he had. She loved her job and took great pride in the success of the business.
Scott thought for a moment before complying with her impulsive request. “During breakfast Thanksgiving morning, Madison reached for the butter and knocked over an entire glass of cold milk directly into Eli’s lap. Eli jumped and knocked over his cereal bowl, which landed on their shih tzu. The dog went tearing through the house scattering milk and Cheerios all over the floors while the girls chased after it, smashing the cereal underfoot. Eli was laughing when he told us the story over Thanksgiving dinner, but his wife was not amused.”
Tess laughed. “That sounds like a scene from a TV sitcom.”
“Right? Eli said it’s pretty much life as expected with energetic almost-five-year-old twins.”
“I can imagine. It must be exhausting.”
He smiled up at the server who set their pizza in front of them, then continued the conversation as Tess reached for a slice. “Eli and Libby put on the long-suffering act, but they love every minute with those girls.”
She’d met all the members of Scott’s family, most recently in September, at the annual PCCI picnic at sprawling Burns Park in North Little Rock.
She doubted he got the same kind of grief from his family that she did from hers just because he hadn’t yet found his own life mate. From what she knew of them, she thought perhaps they’d tease him a little, but probably not in the insultingly patronizing tone her sister used toward her. With Thanksgiving behind them, the holiday season was now well under way. Parties, traditions, family gatherings loomed ahead. She wished she could feel a little more enthusiastic about what was to come in the next month.
“You like children, don’t you, Tess?” Scott asked unexpectedly.
“I love children.” She hoped her quick smile hid the wistfulness that underlaid her reply.
“Yeah, me, too.”
Looking down at his plate, Scott toyed with his food, seemingly lost in his thoughts again. With silence reigning, she took another bite of her veggie pizza.
He cleared his throat and she glanced up. Her eyebrows rose in response to his expression. “What?”
“You remember when I had that unexpected appendectomy last year and you had to come to my house to work the next day because we had that big deadline?”
She was rather surprised he’d mentioned that incident. He’d seemed to try very hard to forget that day since. “Of course I remember.”
Hypersensitive to the painkillers, Scott had spent a few hours rambling somewhat disjointedly until the effects wore off. He hadn’t said anything too far out of line, but he’d been amusingly whimsical and had continually heaped praise on her, telling her how important she was to him and how he couldn’t get by without her. Even knowing his effusiveness was fueled by medication, she’d taken the compliments to heart.
The only seriously awkward moment had come as she’d prepared to leave. Though Scott wasn’t a “hugger,” he’d hauled her into his arms for a somewhat clumsy embrace, thanking her too heartily for her help. She’d convinced herself afterward that he had surely intended to kiss her cheek, but he’d missed. His lips had landed squarely on her mouth.
It had lasted only seconds. Hardly long enough to be called a kiss. Even under the influence of the medicines, he’d been aware enough to jump back immediately, stammering apologies, flustered, his face uncharacteristically flushed. Tess had laughed it off, attempting to mask her own reactions behind indulgent humor. Despite her assurances the next day that he’d said nothing untoward, Scott had been embarrassed by his lack of control and obviously concerned that he’d crossed professional lines. They had implicitly agreed to put the incident behind them and never refer to it again. To be honest, though, there’d been times when she’d found herself reliving that almost kiss and wondering what it might have been like had it been real.
Scott cleared his throat, bringing her abruptly back to the present. “So, the thing is, I’d like to handle this conversation the same way we did that incident. Though I am completely clearheaded and unaffected by any outside influences tonight, feel free to forget anything I’m about to say, if you want, and to pretend it never happened next time we see each other. That’s why I wanted to talk here, away from the office.”
Lifting her eyebrows in confusion, she looked at the tall, thin glass in his hand. “You’ve only had a few sips of your beer, so that’s probably not the reason you aren’t making any sense.”
Setting the glass aside, he shook his head. “As I said, I’m not under the influence of anything. Just not quite sure how to begin this conversation.”
Swallowing a bit nervously, she touched her napkin to her lips, then lowered her hands to her lap to toy with the checkered tablecloth. Since when had Scott ever had trouble talking with her? This couldn’t be good. “Just say it, Scott.”
He nodded. “Your job means a lot to you, right? I mean, it matters to you that the company is successful. Reputable.”
Her chest tightened. A cold, hard knot formed in her throat, forcing her to clear it before she could ask, “Have I done something wrong? Have I messed up somehow? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
He shook his head quickly. “Of course not. Just the opposite, in fact. You’ve gone above and beyond this past year. I’m not exaggerating when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Relief flooded her. Her hand felt just a little unsteady when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then, what...?”
“I overheard some of a phone conversation you had earlier,” he blurted. “You were talking about the upcoming holiday parties, and about problems you’ve been having with online dating.”
She felt warmth spread across her face. He’d heard her conversation with her friend Stevie? How humiliating!
“So anyway,” he continued before she could speak, “I’ve got a bunch of holiday events coming up, too, and no one to attend them with me. Which made me wonder why we couldn’t go to some of those parties together.”
Of all the things he could have said, this was the least expected. Surely he wasn’t suggesting...
“You mean...as coworkers?” she asked in a tentative attempt at clarification.
“No, nothing to do with work. I guess you could say I’m asking you out.”
She stared at him, her mind going completely blank with shock. “Oh. Ah.”
�
��I’ve been thinking about how you and I get along so well and always have,” he said, cutting into her stunned stammering. “About how much more comfortable it could be if we attend these things together rather than going alone or trying to deal with early-dating drama with other people during the holidays. So, what do you think?”
She moved his glass firmly to the other side of the table, symbolically out of his reach. “I think you had too much of this on an empty stomach. It must have gone straight to your head.”
He made a sound that was half amusement, half exasperation. “I’ve had maybe three sips of the beer. I’m not intoxicated. I had this inspiration at the office and I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring it up to you. I guess I’m not doing a very good job of it. I’m really bad at this sort of thing.”
“After hearing me complain about online dating, you decided we should attend holiday parties together?” She still wasn’t sure she entirely understood where he was going with this. “And you’re not just talking about business-related events?”
“No. There are several events coming up very soon that I’ll be expected to attend with a plus one. I’ll admit I’ve been putting off thinking about them until the last minute because I didn’t know who to ask, but I suddenly realized there’s no one I’d rather go with than you. And wouldn’t you rather attend your parties with me than with some guy you think is boring?”
So he’d heard her talk about Glenn. She resisted an impulse to hide her face in her hands as she understood exactly how much of her conversation he’d unintentionally overheard. She wasn’t angry with him for his eavesdropping; after all, her door had been open and she’d made no effort to speak quietly. But that was because she’d thought herself alone in the office. Remembering the way he’d announced his arrival with excessive noise, she figured he must have been uncomfortable with what he’d overheard. But that hadn’t stopped him from mulling it over afterward, had it?
After clearing her throat, she said, “The holidays can be difficult for singles. Trust me, I know. My older sister is a champ when it comes to dropping patronizing hints and comments, especially since one of my two best friends just got married and the other is in a steady relationship. Even though I’m mostly okay with going to parties and other events on my own, sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone to accompany me. Someone I like and enjoy spending time with. But—”
“You don’t feel that way about me?”
“Of course I do. But—”
“You like me. You’re certainly comfortable with me. You seem to enjoy spending time with me.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“So what’s the problem? You attend a few things with me. I’ll go to your gigs. It’ll take a lot of pressure off both of us.”
He was on a roll now, a mode she’d seen him in many times. He’d had what he considered a brilliant idea and he was running with it. True, his “aha” moments had served him well in the past, earning him a reputation as a business genius. But he’d really gone off the rails this time.
“May I speak now?”
He grimaced. “Oh. Sorry. Go ahead.”
“As I was trying to say, I understand what prompted your suggestion and it makes sense in some ways. But,” she said quickly when he started to speak again, “I don’t think you’ve considered all the ramifications. Showing up together for professional gatherings wouldn’t raise eyebrows because we’re usually together in that capacity. But in social functions, with families and friends... Everyone’s going to wonder if there’s something going on between us other than the construction business.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
Maybe he’d misunderstood what she was trying to say. “To have people speculating about us? It’s not that I care so much about gossip, personally—well, not too much—but I’m not sure how good it would be for the company.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t talking about the gossip. I meant the part about our relationship being more than a professional one.”
She stared at him across the table, trying to read his face. Was he joking? It wasn’t his usual style of humor, but surely he wasn’t suggesting that they should start...dating?
“Okay, maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself,” he said quickly, probably in response to her stunned expression. “But think about it, Tess. We make a hell of a team. Everyone says so. How many times have we been teased about being so in sync that we’re accused of communicating telepathically?”
She could hardly count the number of times during meetings when she and Scott had exchanged thoughts with little more than a glance and a nod, to the bemusement of their associates. “Well, sure, but—”
“We both love children,” he reminded her. “We want families of our own. We share many of the same values. I always respected the way you took care of your parents, even though it meant a great deal of sacrifice for yourself. That’s the same kind of family loyalty my own parents instilled in me and my brothers.”
Children? He was talking about kids now? “I’ve, um, always admired how close you are with your family. But—”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve both tried all the conventional dating methods. We’ve had relationships we hoped would lead somewhere, only to end up single again. It occurred to me that maybe we’ve both been going about the process all wrong, ignoring the obvious solution right in front of us. We’ve been successful partners for more than six years, longer than any other relationship I’ve ever had.”
She bit her lip. He was doing it again. Enthusiastically barreling along without giving her much chance to respond. She knew how to break in, how to get his attention and make her point. Even if he didn’t agree, he always listened and respected her opinion—but she didn’t for the life of her know what she’d say if she stopped him just then. She was literally struck speechless.
After a moment, Scott grimaced and made a little sound that seemed self-chiding. “You’re completely gobsmacked by all this, aren’t you?”
“That’s one way to phrase it,” she managed to say fairly steadily, though her pulse rate was still fluttering like crazy.
He reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. “Sorry, Tess. You know how I get when I’m inspired by an idea.”
She knew exactly how he got. Which was why she was suddenly so nervous.
He squeezed her fingers. “It’s just something to think about. You have to admit it makes sense, but I won’t take offense if you decide you don’t want to try it. Nothing will change between us, if that’s what you prefer.”
Her attention was drawn to their joined hands. His was strong, tanned and very warm. She’d always admired his hands, secretly studying them as his capable fingers had flown over the keyboard or tablet screen. Her own felt suddenly small and soft beneath his, feminine to his masculine. She found herself mesmerized by the contrasts, the sensations, the intimacy of that contact.
What on earth was wrong with her? Though that medicine-fueled embrace had been a definite glitch, it wasn’t as if Scott never touched her. He was in the habit of patting her shoulder when he was particularly pleased with her or high-fiving her when a job was completed satisfactorily. But now, with just this casual hand-holding, she was suddenly transported back to inarticulate appreciation of just what an attractive and compelling man he was. The thought had always been present at the back of her mind, but she’d kept it firmly locked behind professional boundaries she had never expected to cross.
Maybe they had both lost their minds.
“Why don’t you think about it for a couple of days?” Scott suggested after another moment of silence. “We could start slow, attend a party or two together, see how it feels. We’d figure out what to say to anyone who questions us. Whatever happens, nothing has to change at work. This would be a totally separate experiment.”
Experiment.
The word cut through the daze that had temporarily engulfed her. She drew her hand from beneath his and picked up her soda again, holding the cool glass in a firm grip to control a slight tremor. “I’ll think about it,” she said evenly, “but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to mix business with personal pursuits. From my observances, it’s rarely successful.”
“Maybe for people like us it’s exactly the right way to go about this. Thoughtfully, practically, logically. As adults who share common goals and common interests, not starry-eyed kids too caught up in fantasy to give serious consideration to the future.”
People like us. This could be the least romantic discussion of dating and potential marriage she’d ever had, she thought, frowning down at the now unappetizing food that remained on her plate. Not that she’d ever expected romance from her prosaic employer. Okay, maybe she’d let herself daydream a time or two, especially in those early years, but she’d long since convinced herself she was completely happy with her comfortable friendship with Scott. Now he was suggesting changing the parameters of their relationship, carrying the success of their business collaboration into a personal partnership. And while she was utterly—well, gobsmacked by the proposition, she had to admit that a part of her recognized the unassailable logic of his idea.
She’d tried romance. She’d crashed and burned. Scott had been engaged. It hadn’t ended well. So maybe he was right that a union based on common goals and interests was much more fitting for, as he’d said, people like them.
He gave her one of the quick, crooked smiles that almost always made her melt inside, even when she’d been annoyed with him. “Or you could always go to your parties with boring, no-chemistry Glenn.”
She pointed a finger at him. “It’s not wise to tease me about something you overheard while eavesdropping on a private conversation.”
