Dropping my gaze, I do what’s natural to me; I grab his hand and hold it in mine, turning it over and kissing his palm.
It means a lot that he’s telling me this.
And, somewhere deep down, I have to grapple with the fact that it means we’ve gone somewhere beyond casual.
“I survived. Went into foster care. Couple of bad placements.” He shrugs, smiles sadly. “Then Ed and Claire took me in. They were older — empty-nesters. Their kids were all awesome. Ed’s the one who taught me woodworking and everything.”
“Max,” I whisper, shaking my head. “That’s?—”
But I’m cut off when an insistent buzzing sounds from the side table. At first, I’m just going to ignore it, but then I remember.
“Shit,” I say, gasping and sitting up, bringing my hand to my chest. “Sorry,shit— I completely forgot I have a meeting with Gina today. I’ll be right back, just let me?—”
Max is already pulling back, sitting up against the headboard, nodding and waving his hand at me. “No, of course.I’msorry. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
The phone is still buzzing, and I stand at the end of the bed, wearing just my underwear and his shirt from the night before, heart in my throat as I look at him.
I’m distantly aware that I’m making a decision right now.
“Sorry,” I say, darting into the hallway. “I’ll berightback.”
I shoot Gina a message, then dart into the bathroom to brush my teeth, hair, and throw on a bra. At the last second, I decide to keep Max’s shirt on, rather than changing into something else. First, Gaia has a pretty loose dress code, and it’s not like Gina will expect me in a blouse.
And second, because I like it. I like having the scent of him around me, the feeling of the soft cotton against my skin.
Three minutes after getting the call, I’m sitting at Jasper’s desk in the study — which is still pulled to the middle of the room — and loading up a video chat, heart thrumming as the image of my boss’s face fills the screen.
“Lacey! How are you?”
“Good! Sorry, the internet is so spotty here. Does everything look okay on your end?”
“Looks great.”
“How are you doing, Gina?”
“Well, to be honest with you…” Gina stops, laughing and making a face, “we’re not actually doing too hot over here, Lacey. I have to tell you that your absence… it’s made a lot of things clear to us about which leaders on this team are taking on most of the work.”
My heart flutters lamely, and all at once I have to grapple with everything — hearing the thing that I’ve always wanted to hear, while also recognizing that it doesn’t feel nearly the way I thought it would feel.
As though I might not have understood the implication there, she goes on, “And that person is you. Since you’ve been taking your time off and working remotely, we’ve realized two thingsabout your role with us. First, things don’t function nearly as well without you. And second, your hard work during your time as the lead for Citadale has earned you a promotion. Your organization, execution, and quality control skills would be perfect for the role of Operations Lead for the entire gaming department, not just Citadale.”
The air leaves my lungs. I stare at the screen. This is it. This is the promotion I’ve been salivating over for years. The salary and power — and what this role would do for my resume. It’s unimaginable.
“Lacey, did your screen freeze up?”
“No, sorry, I—” I bring my hand to my heart. “That’s great news. I’m honored.”
“Of course. And we’re honored to offer it. However, I’ll admit I have an ulterior motive. Your current position is listed as remote or hybrid, but as an Operations Lead, you’ll need to be here, in-person. Based on the effect you’ve had over the past few years, we’ve come to the consensus that you are a person we really need to have physically present.”
“Of course,” I agree, throat dry. “When would— I mean, I’m still on leave. After losing my uncle…”
“Take some time to consider it,” Gina says, her eyes kind but firm. “But if you want to take the promotion, let’s plan for you being back in San Francisco by the all-hands.”
The annual, company-wide all-hands meeting is in less than a month. By mid October, she wants my decision about whether or not I’ll be taking the role.
“Okay,” I say weakly, hoping I don’t sound as deflated as I feel. “That sounds great. And I really appreciate your understanding.”
“It’s never easy, losing someone,” Gina says, understanding shifting over her face, and I remember she lost her husband a year or two ago. “Take your PTO to get things straightened out and come back to us fully recharged and ready to take on the Operations Lead role. I’m so excited to see where your career goes from here, Lacey.”
