She steps closer, eyes dipping to my mouth. “We could be good again.”
Her perfume is familiar. Her proximity is familiar. Her confidence is familiar.
Familiar but not attractive.
“I don’t think so, Erin,” I say carefully. “I’m not interested in you like that.”
With Erin, you have to be blunt because nuances don’t work with her, not when she’s going after something she wants.
“Come on, Luther, we used to be…amazing.”
That’s an exaggeration I can’t get behind. Would it be easy if I were into her? Yes, absolutely. But I can’t force attraction. I can’t fake interest.
She leans in. Her breath warms the air between us. A face flashes through my mind.
Soft brown hair. Warm, startled green eyes. A hesitant smile she tries to hide.
Anouk Starling.
In the conference room. Trembling. Trying so damn hard. And despite everything—despite her stutter, her fear, her nerves—she holds my attention in a way Erin never has.
I roll my chair away from Erin and stand up. “Not happening, Erin.”
She looks like I hit her. “Luther—”
“We work together, Erin, and I like working with you; let’s not fuck it up.” My warning is clear. If this happens again, you’re gone.
She takes a long breath, nods. “Long day,” she says, her cheeks flushed. She’s embarrassed, but like always, she moves past it. “Get some rest.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
She reaches the door, hesitates. “I…ah….” She shakes her head as if deciding against saying what she’s thinking and leaves.
I run a hand through my hair and exhale hard.
My phone rings then.
It’s Dot.
“Do you know where Anouk is?” she asks without preamble.
“I…we were at a meeting and then she—”
“She didn’t come back to her office.” There’s panic in Dot’s voice.
“What’s going on?”
“I got a call from her brother. She’s upset. I can’t find her.”
I frown. “Her brother?”
“Yes. Luther, find her and just…look, just be with her until…hell.”
“Dot? What the fuck is going on?”
“She’s not answering her phone, and she’s not in her cubicle,” she cries out.
I’ve never heard Dot afraid. This is serious.