He turns to me. “They won’t. It’s my sister’s friend’s restaurant. They have a private room. He’s letting me use it. He even said we could use the back door through the kitchen so no one will see us coming and going. It’s all very clandestine,” he murmurs out the side of his mouth. “I thought it would be fun.”
I can’t think of anything less fun. My shoulders creep up to my ears at just the idea of it: being out in public together where absolutely anyone could see us. “Well...why?”
“Why what?” he asks, scanning an email.
“Why are we going on a date?” I ask, barely loud enough for him to hear.
He sits back again, giving me his full attention. “Even if we can’t have an official...status.” He pauses again, rechecking the perimeter for eavesdroppers. “Don’t you want that? Don’t you want more than...secrets?”
I stand and back away from the desk like it’s an animal that’s turned on me. “I don’t know, Wes.”
“It’ll be fine. I promise.” He turns in his chair, following my path as I back toward my office door. I need to get away from this conversation to figure out what I’m going to say.
“Corrine.” His voice is too loud and my shoulders shoot to my ears in response. I check up and down the corridor but there’s no one around. “Ms. Blunt,” he says quieter. “Don’t walk away from me. Please.”
I stop in the office doorway, scanning the hall one more time, then gesture for him to follow me. I shut the door behind him, flicking the lock. I sit on the couch and he takes the armchair. “Of course I want more than secrets.”
The secrets are what’s killing me. I want to tell my mom and Emily about him. I want to see Amy on the street and not have to wonder how I’ll explain how I know her. But I also want my career, and I don’t see how I can have both.
Maybe James was right. I do choose my job over relationships. Over everything.
He runs a hand through his hair. “If we were hitting a movie or going to a Sox game I could see why you might be nervous. But, Corrine.”
He leans forward, grabbing my hands. “We can arrive separately. No one will see us. No one will know. And... Amy is working late and she said she’d make herself scarce. I thought...” He pauses to blush.
“You could sleep over tonight. It’s the weekend. We have nowhere to be tomorrow and I’m always going to your place.”
My heart does a little throb at the vulnerability in his voice. I can tell how badly he wants this and against my better judgement, I ache to give this to him.
“I’m not asking for too much, right?” He seems to be asking himself more than me. “Just dinner. Can you try? Can you at least try? We can even talk about work the whole time.”
A laugh escapes. “O-okay,” I hear myself say. I’m a train with no brakes. It’s exhilarating even as I can vividly picture the fiery mess it will make.
His eyes shoot to mine and he jiggles his knee. “Okay?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Okay. We can go to dinner,” I say, very carefully.
He stands and pulls me up with him. “Who knew it would be so difficult to convince you to go out with me,” he says with a small laugh.
He kisses me and I don’t hesitate. Even though we’re at work and we’re not supposed to be doing this here, I can’t help myself when he looks this happy. Until two sharp knocks rattle the door.
I stiffen and start to pull away. I know,I know, the door is locked, the blinds are drawn but I check, nonetheless, becausewhat if? The knock comes again.
“Ms. Blunt?” It takes only a second to recognize Mark’s voice. He jerks the door handle like the total, entitled asshole he is. But Wesley doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t even acknowledge the interruption. He keeps kissing me, pulling me back into him with his hand in my hair, his fingers cradling my jaw.
Something blooms inside me as I wrap my arms around his waist, falling lazily into a kiss that has the potential to become dangerous at the office. That feeling comes back from the night Wesley crouched uncomfortably on the hard tile floor next to my bathtub. The feeling, maybe, like love. I don’t want to acknowledge it, don’t want it to be real. I’ve been in love before. This feels nothing like that. It’s limitless, endless. Deep and I am falling in it. Deep enough that I don’t care who might knock on that door next. Deep enough that I don’t care if Richard Skyler walked through that door right this moment.
And it’s terrifying.
My car makes the quiet tick, tick, tick sound as the engine cools. I slump in the driver’s seat watching a few people come and go from the restaurant. The parking lot is packed. Of course, it’s Friday night so that’s not a surprise. I know, without having to check the time, that I am late. I left the house only five minutes before the reservation, after spending too long in the shower, trying to decide if I should go, and too long in the closet alternating between what to wear or if I should bother wearing anything.
Everything about this feels wrong. No, that’s not the right word. Wesley isn’t wrong. But this, a date, in public with him, is dangerous. Not just to our job. It’s dangerous because it feels real.
Anger grips my chest in a tight fist. Because how dare he make me do this? How dare he pressure me? How dare he put our careers at risk for what? Because he...
...because he loves me? I shy away from that thought, the ludicrous idea that Wesleylovesme. We’re both smart enough to know that’s not what this can become. A real relationship. Real love. It’s one thing for me to toy with the idea but for him to feel it? For those feelings to be real?
A small quiet voice asks, but why not?
