She shook her head. “You do enough around here.”
Good. Because I had a spreadsheet to make.
I sat at my desk and navigated to a blank spreadsheet while playing every interaction I’d had with Elizabeth over in my mind. Every word spoken, every smile shared. No part of me doubted the sincerity in her touch and how intentionally she accommodated me, despite what everyone thought of her and the stereotype of seducing your boss to climb the ranks.
I pushed my laptop aside and grabbed an old drawing, turning it face down. I’d need to start at the basics to untangle the web in my brain.
And then I started scribbling.
Unknown variable: At what point did she realize I was@the answerisno? How long had she chatted with me as Lily in the evenings and Elizabeth in the daytime all while knowing I had no idea?
Unknown variable:Why didn’t she tell me?
I switched to a different color pen for the possible answers:Because I was her boss.
A valid answer. She needed this job. She knew my promotion was tied to it too.
My pen hovered above the page, afraid to write:Could her feelings be as real as mine?
Theoretically, they could be.
But the likelihood of it was yet to be determined.
I put ink to paper, making a list of all the reasons why it wasn’t possible. Because Elizabeth was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Aside from her flawless physical features, she was also smart, funny, kind, caring, thoughtful, and determined as can be.
There was also that one thing we rarely discussed or acknowledged: She was rich. Again, in theory. Something told me otherwise.
I thought back to the article Rose had mentioned. I should read it, but not now. Not while I was hyperfixated on this.
Next question:What exactly could I offer her?
Protection from unwanted attention like the man who had waited for her outside our building.
Blowing out a long breath, I listed the things about me she might like. She called me smart—I shut my eyes and scribbled it down before my brain rejected the compliment.
I think she liked that I kept her well-fed. I could do that forever.
But as I sat there reflecting and ruminating, there was one thought playing over and over in my mind: I was in love with her.
I was in love with Lily’s mind, with Elizabeth’s wit, with Lily’s humor, and Elizabeth’s smile. I loved Elizabeth, and I loved that she was my Lily.
More than anything, I wanted her to be happy, and right now, she wasn’t.
I could see it in her eyes, in the way the corners of her mouth tilted downward, even for a second. I could see it when the room didn’t light up like it used to when she was around.
And I wanted to fix it. Because the one thing I was sure of is that I would love her in the way she deserved.
That should count for something.
I was ready to speak to Elizabeth.
My eyes burned from staring at my screen. I’d transferred my mind map to the spreadsheet, and even though I hadn’t concluded it, I already knew what I wanted. Knew what I was willing to risk. I was focused. Hyperfocused. And there wasn’t a subject more fascinating to me than Elizabeth. And if she let me, I’d get lost in her, over and over for the rest of my life.
My eyes flicked down to the time in the corner of the screen: 11:35 p.m.
Waking her to receive a love confession may not be the best way to convince her to love me.
I stretched upward and opened the window above the desk for some fresh air. The sounds of crickets chirping tickled my ears.
