“Mr. Garrison.” She sets the folder aside. “What can I do for you?”
Mr. Garrison.
Geezus. I hate the way it sounds, coming out of her mouth now.
I step inside and close the door behind me.
Her eyes follow the movement.
Something in the air shifts immediately.
“You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone,” I say.
She folds her hands neatly on the desk. “Yes, I do.” Her tone is calm.
Silence stretches between us as we just stare at one another.
There are a thousand things I want to say.
A thousand things I probably shouldn’t.
She picks the folder back up and stands. She rounds the desk and walks toward the door.
I block her way.
“I really am late for a meeting,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine.
Another silence.
God, this is awkward.
Because the truth sits between us like a loaded gun.
What happened between us didn’t change anything.
I straighten slightly. “About the other night …”
She lifts her chin slightly. “You don’t need to say anything.”
I frown. “I think I should.”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s not necessary.” Her eyes flick to mine. “We both know what it was.”
“And what was it?”
She hesitates. Then answers softly, “A reckless mistake. One that won’t happen again.”
She’s giving me an out.
I nod. “Okay,” I say.
Because she’s not wrong.
She works for me.
That fact isn’t going to magically disappear.
I step out of her way.
