“The simplest solution,” Brant says, “is just to forbid all relationships entirely.”
Destiny nods. “That would be easiest, I agree. But that’s quite tricky in practice sometimes. I know you’re not an employment lawyer,” she says to Ollie. “But any thoughts?”
“I think the company will be sucked into lawsuits regardless of guilt and any policy could be used in either direction,” Ollie says. “All lawsuits tend to include all possible parties so as to avoid finger-pointing at whoever was not involved in the suit. But I do think we should take into consideration what employees are telling us.”
“True,” I agree, determined not to look at Brant. “You can’t report someone for having a crush on you, which is often the more loaded situation. Can’t we have a policy of leaving it to the employee to assess the impact on their work? Unless they’re obviously in an employee/manager situation?”
Brant’s eyes are still narrowed as he glances at me. What is going on, exactly?
I start to worry as we get ready for the boat tour. Will he notice if I wind up alone with Ollie? Should I avoid Ollie because it will be obvious that we like each other? But I already told Brant we were friends, and I don’t want to look like I’m hiding something.
The boat turns out to be a fairly large one, holding perhaps fifty people, and it has several distinct groups on it: a handful of senior citizens who are clearly birders, laden with binoculars and lists of shore birds in their hands; a couple of smaller groups of tourists from France and Japan; and a large family group who are on some kind of reunion trip. It quickly becomes clear that the parents at the family reunion are occupied with their smallerchildren, and their teenagers have turned into a loud, cackling gang, busy impressing each other with loud remarks and phone memes.
As the boat leaves the dock, Ollie and I stand with Brant and Destiny for a few moments, watching Lana and Niamh take photos for some kind of Instagram ‘I own a yacht’ concept.
“Did they really suggest we talk about being naked as an ice breaker?” she asks us. “That really happened, right? I didn’t hallucinate it?”
As I shrug, amused, she glances between Brant, Ollie and me. “I am so thankful for you three. You’re my grown-ups.”
I feel vaguely guilty that I’m going to try to sneak off on the field trip for a moment alone with my boyfriend.
As our boat negotiates its way among smaller Connecticut pleasure boats, Ollie and I deliberately walk in opposite directions on the deck without saying anything, as if to throw people off our trail. After a few minutes, we land in the same spot, a quiet place to stand on the deck together, looking out at the Connecticut shoreline as we slowly circle an island. It is hard to stay apart like this. It is beautiful and quiet, the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, and I can’t kiss him.
“Brant is interested in you,” Ollie says quietly.
My stomach sinks. If someone else has noticed Brant’s behavior, that makes it real. “I hope not.”
“Every time he talks about his cynicism about dating, his eyes go right to you.”
I shrug. “I’m hoping if I ignore it, he will get bored and fixate on someone else. He’s my direct supervisor so he can’t ask me out.”
“I wonder if that’s why he put you on the committee with him. To figure out your feelings about it,” Ollie says quietly.
I shrug. “I’m worried he won’t forgive me for insisting I’m single and then starting to date you, whenever we do tell people.”
“We’ll have to keep well away from each other in the meantime,” Ollie says. “Especially around work. I was thinking we could start having lunch together, but…”
“Yeah, no. Bad idea.”
“He can’t retaliate against you, you know that, right? That’s illegal,” Ollie says quietly.
“There’s what’s legal and what you can get away with. He could come up with some other reason that I’m doing a bad job. He’s talked about layoffs a lot.”
“Alright. So,” Ollie says, looking around, “I guess I’ll give you space. But tell me if he escalates anything. I know good lawyers.” Ollie smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Just one more minute out here,” I say. “It’s nice to be here with you.”
“One more minute.” We look out at the distant water, and I tell myself not to ruin things. Try to have fun. Keep things light, I remind myself.
“So do you want kids?” I ask. Keeping things light.
He keeps his eyes on the horizon. “Sure. But I’m not dying to have them.”
“You like them, though.”
“Selectively,” he says with a shrug. “Your kid is good. Those ones, on the other hand…”
He tilts his head toward the group of teenagers who are now leaning precariously off the side of the boat, just pushing the limit of where Ollie or I would feel the need to yell at them.
