My stomach flutters with giddy, ridiculous butterflies as I pat my face dry and trot back to the door. Wesley is exactly the type of person to have either forgotten something essential, like his bag or his glasses or his pants, or to have come back just to do something sweet like kiss me in that toe-curling way again. I scan the living room as I walk to the door but don’t see anything of his. There is a large indentation on my carpet that serves as a red-flag reminder to his presence. I almost don’t want to vacuum over it.
“What’d you forget?” I ask as I pull the door open.
“Sorry?” Richard smiles at me on the other side of the door.
My heart stops. Sweat breaks out under my armpits and around my hairline, an immediate panic response.
Richard frowns down the long hallway of my condo building. “Was there someone else here?”
I shake my head no before I realize that lie won’t track. “Yes,” I croak. My throat is the eye of a needle. They must have just missed each other. Can a heart stop from a close call?
“Oh?” He makes a show of checking his watch. He’s still in his suit, but his tie is gone and the top buttons on his shirt are undone. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are red. “It’s past eleven.” The smell of scotch wafts across the threshold.
Great.Drunk Dick.
“Emily. Emily was here.” My voice sounds too high and too loud.
Richard leans forward, peering past me into my apartment. I cram myself between the doorframe and the door, squishing myself to leave as little space as possible. I know he won’t see that spot on my carpet and immediately know what it is. I’m doubtful there’s anything else in my apartment that could give away what I just did, but I feel the need to protect myself, my space from this uninvited guest, just the same. I wasn’t aware Richard even knew where I lived.
Now that my heartbeat has slowed to a moderate-exercise pace and I realize that Richard doesn’t know that Wesley was here or that I was on top of him or that he touched my butt, my brain kicks in to ask, “What are you doing here, Richard?”
He frowns at the accusatory note in my tone.
“What I mean is...” Now my nervousness bleeds through. “How can I help you?”
In his silence, I search his face for the man he used to be. I’m desperate to have him back, his leadership and guidance. The young woman in me is still so loyal. Maybe he was never that man, though, and it’s just taken me this long to realize it.
He leans against the frame, bringing his body and his alcohol breath within inches of my face. Breaking eye contact feels like the wrong move right now, like losing a fight I probably can’t win anyway.
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I know you were disappointed about the promotion...and with your mother and all...”
His deodorant smells sharp, like he’s sweated through it. The urge to wince, to close this door and lock it against him turns my hands into fists.
“If you want I can come in and we can discuss...” He pauses and looks down my body and back up again. I feel like I need to go take a shower. “Divesting you of some of your smaller files. To lighten the load.”
The edge in his voice sends a chill up my spine. Like this is an offer I’d best not refuse. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes at the injustice of this moment. I feel like a computer simulation, calculating all possible scenarios in my head before I answer:
Invite my drunk, lecherous boss into my home and deal with the consequences.
Or say no—again—and deal with new ones.
Either way, I’m going to end up saying no to this man and I can’t imagine it will have a positive effect on my career.
“I’m sorry, Richard.” My throat still feels too tight to get the words out. “I’m just about to go to bed. Maybe we can discuss more in the morning. At work.”
“Fine.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Tomorrow.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” I say, as I start to close the door.
His hand shoots out, gripping the door and pushing it back open. A sound escapes from my mouth, surprised, scared. Weak.
“You look very nice tonight.”
He searches my face; suddenly he seems more sober than I gave him credit for.
“Glowing.”
I nod quickly, swallowing down the panic that’s rising up my chest in the form of bile. “See you at practice.” He winks, walking away without another word.
