Maya steps into my office after a precise three-knock rap. I look up just in time to catch her hand closing around the doorknob, already turning the lock.
“Leave it open, Maya. You won’t be long,” I say, my tone clipped. I made myself clear last time. What happened on the couch will not happen again.
She stills for a fraction of a second, then smooths her expression as if she can erase the misstep. She crosses the room and hands me the documents. I glance down, register another KPI report, and set it aside without comment.
I turn back to the balance sheet on my desk, intent on losing myself in columns and figures. But the prickle at the back of my neck tells me she hasn’t moved.
My jaw tightens.
“Is there something else you need?” I ask without looking up.
“You didn’t come to my apartment yesterday,” she murmurs.
I lift my head and pin her with a look that leaves no room for misunderstanding.
“I didn’t say I would.”
She leans forward, palms flat on my desk, closing the distance, her perfume teasing my senses. “You almost never tell me you’re coming over until you’re already on your way,” she murmurs. “You just show up. And I always make time for you.”
“Then don’t wait for me today,” I say, already pulling back.
That finally makes her falter. She straightens, folds her arms, then lets them fall again. “Why?”
I stop what I’m doing and meet her gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to turn uncomfortable. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Maya.”
Her lashes lower. Her mouth curves into a soft smile. “You’re right,” she says quietly. “I just missed you these past few days. That’s all.”
She hesitates for half a second before adding, almost casually, “Whenever you want to come by… or need me, just let me know.”
Her teeth catch her bottom lip.
I force my attention back to the numbers on my desk. “You can go, Maya.”
I don’t watch her leave. I don’t need to. Her perfume lingers long after she’s gone.
Spending the night at her place, sitting at her table, letting myself blur lines that should have remained uncompromised, was a setback. A dangerous one.
I bury myself in work until the clock creeps past five. When I finally shut down my computer, I gather my things, then press the green button on my desk phone.
“Maya, come to my office.”
She arrives too quickly, as if she’s been waiting just outside the door. I hand her a thin stack of papers. “Give these to Jonathan. And tomorrow, first thing, follow up with the Commercial team again. I need the final sales and revenue reports expedited.”
“Of course,” she says obediently, but her gaze doesn’t leave me, searching.
I grab my briefcase, slip my phone into my pocket, and head for the door.
“Are you leaving already?” she asks behind me. There’s hope threaded through the question.
I press the elevator button without turning. “Yes.”
“I didn’t drive to work today,” she adds, softer now. “Could you give me a ride? I’ll drop these off quickly, it won’t take long.”
The elevator doors slide open with a brisk chime. I step inside, my voice steady, final.
“See you tomorrow, Maya.”
The doors close.
