“I can’t leave the company to its own devices or abandon my obligations,” I say, a practiced calm settling over my voice. “Hundreds of people depend on me. Including our family.”
Before she can remind me again about her own work and obligations, and my need to find a better balance and make more time at home, I add, “Look, I already promised I’d be home on time. Let’s not argue about this.”
I step forward and pull her into a brief hug, more perfunctory than I mean it to be.
“I need to go, I’m already late.” I press a quick kiss to her lips and murmur, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says, quietly, as I walk to the car.
When I look back through the windshield, she’s still standing there in the driveway, watching me leave.
“Colin?” Margaret’s voice comes through the office phone.
I press the green button. “Yes, Margaret.”
“Maya Fisher is here with some documents for you to sign.”
A pause. “You can let her in.”
I run a hand through my hair, straighten my tie, and barely have time to exhale before three soft knocks sound at the door. Maya steps inside.
She’s wearing a short-sleeved black dress today, knee-length, perfectly tailored to her frame. The black heels with red soles add a boldness she wears effortlessly, making it nearly impossible not to notice every movement she makes.
My gaze lingers, unwilling to move, until she catches it and smiles.
“Maya.”
She walks toward my desk with unhurried confidence, hips swaying just enough to draw attention, and hands me the papers. I start scanning them, signing one page after another.
Silence fills the room. Unlike other times, it isn’t comfortable. It hums with restraint and something neither of us intends to name.
I want to ask if she came by yesterday evening when I wasn’t here. If she thought I was avoiding her.
And if she did ask me outright. What would I say?
That I volunteered for dinner with one of our most unbearable clients just to keep myself occupied?
I sign the last page slowly, dragging out the moment. Then I hand the papers back. She hesitates before taking them.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asks.
I should say no.
But I don’t.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Come back after you’ve delivered the signed documents. I have a few spreadsheets I want you to go through.”
Maya smiles before walking toward the door and says nothing else. She doesn’t need to. I know she’ll do exactly as I asked.
The following section includes explicit, on-page cheating. It is part of the story’s journey, but this moment may be difficult for some readers. Please feel free to skip it if it feels overwhelming.
Maya bursts out laughing. When she finally manages to catch her breath, she wipes at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
“I can’t believe you,” she says, her voice still light with laughter.
I shrug, the corner of my mouth lifting. “Believe it or not, that’s exactly what happened.”
Since she returned to my office, Maya’s been working through the tasks I gave her. I dismissed Margaret earlier than usual and asked Maya to compile and organize the drafts for Monday’s deliverables.
