Together, we walk down the hallway toward the elevator. I can still feel the electricity sparking between us, though we stand on opposite sides of the cab as it takes us down to the ground level. We don’t push the limits again today.
Theo gives me one last lingering look when we’re in the lobby. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Whitney.”
God, I want to kiss him again. Already, I’m counting down the moments until I can feel his lips against mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say back.
Theo winks at me, sending my heart into a sporadic rhythm, before walking out the front doors of the building and sliding into the backseat of the black sedan waiting for him. This time I watchhimdrive off. When he’s gone, I go to the parking garage and get in my car.
That night, when I snuggle up in bed, I can’t help but smile as I remember the weight of Theo’s lips against mine. He’s all I can think about as I fall asleep.
We may be making a big mistake not drawing the line, but right now, I just can’t find it within myself to care.
Theo
My eyes burnas I stare at the computer screen before me. I’ve been trying to write this email for far too long, but the words don’t seem to be coming to me. This week has seemed to drag on. It’s only Wednesday, yet I feel we’ve been stuck in a perpetual warp.
Distantly, I hear Whitney’s phone ring. She picks it up and runs through her spiel, then pauses, listening to whoever is on the other line.
I finish writing up my email and then click send. Reaching for a pad of sticky notes, I scribble a note down and then saunter out of my office and to her desk. Whitney looks up at me briefly when I approach her, but her attention quickly falls back to her phone call.
Slowly, I place the sticky note on her desk so she can see it. Whitney’s blue-gray eyes scan over the message and then flash to me, asking a silent question. I give her a grin and motion with my chin at the note I’ve passed her.
Meet me tonight? 7:00 Gino’s?
Whitney’s eyes study my face for a moment before she nods and then crumbles up the note, tossing it in her waste basket.
I wait there for a few more minutes while she finishes up. While I wait, I admire the orchid I gifted her, still holding strong. The purple blossoms are still wide open with no signs of deterioration.
Even if they do end up dying, I figure I’ll just buy her a new one.
The flower delivers a nice pop of color to Whitney’s desk, even though she has many different colored accessories, like a purple, tie-dye mouse pad and other colored pens. In the short time we’ve worked together, she always keeps her workspace clean and orderly. Though there may be stacks of different things for her to work on, every note and document is precisely where she wants it to be.
It’s a stark difference from my own desk, where I have an exorbitant amount of reports piled upon one another, that I’m slowly working through, one at a time.
A part of me wonders if it bothers her that I’m not as orderly as she is. Does she notice my clutter like I see her lack of clutter?
Finally, she finishes her call and swivels in her chair to look at me. “Why Gino’s?”
I glance back at her. “Don’t you like pizza?”
“Of course, I do,” she says with an eye roll. “Butwhy?”
Because I want to spend time with you, I want to say. Instead, I stick with my cover story. “I figured it would be a good idea to review the itinerary I gave you last week. The tripis coming soon, and I want to ensure all the details are smoothed out.”
Whitney nods her head as if this makes perfect sense. “I think I’ve got everything booked. The hotel had rooms blocked off, so I booked us two conjoined king rooms. Then you mentioned you could get us flights? That should be it.”
“Yeah, we’ll take my jet.”
“What else do you need to go over? I’ll run through everything before our meeting to have it ready.” She reaches for a pen and a paper pad and scribblesGala Noteson the top before drawing a squiggly line underneath.
“Whitney,” I say her name slowly. She looks up at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for me to dictate more tasks for her to work on this afternoon.
“What?”
“Just…” I pause and run my fingers through my hair. I’m about due for a haircut. I should probably do that before the gala. I glance up the hall, where I know Charlotte is sitting at her desk. I wonder just how much of our conversation she can hear. “I’m sure you have everything in perfect order. Just come to dinner with me.”
Her eyes widen for a second before she finally catches on. “Okay,” she whispers. “That sounds great.”
At the end of the day, I find myself waiting outside Gino’s East, looking at my watch and hoping Whitney didn’t decide to back out. As I reach for my phone to shoot her a text, someone approaches me and places a gentle hand on my shoulder.
