Page 55 of Mark my Words

“This month.” Maybe she had a point. Sometimes I did have a challenging time getting to a stopping point with my work to make it to scheduled meetings on time.

“You ready?” I tried changing the subject, watching as she bent over the table, the collar of her blouse shifting to expose the top of her cleavage. I knew precisely how soft that skin was, but we weren’t in the conference room, so I didn’t have permission to touch.

“Stop looking down my shirt, Sam.”

I didn’t even know how she knew that was what I was doing, but I winked in response, loving the way her eyes softened as she looked over at me. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt something for me. I knew she did.

By the time she’d finished packing up, most of the office had cleared out already, the sea of cubicles and the reception desk empty. It made it easier for me to feel brave enough to place my hand on the small of her back as we approached the open foyer by the elevators. She didn’t stop me either, so I chose a spot close to her as we waited for the elevators to return to our floor from the lobby.

I knew I was pushing her past what the current barriers between us were, but I didn’t want to be her dirty secret anymore. If she gave it a chance, I could see us having a real relationship down the line.

The sidewalks were crowded with people making their way toward the public transit stops and the T-station not too far from our office. Kristine watched the crowds around us, quietly navigating the traffic as we walked to the restaurant. It was still a little early for the dinner rush, but I’d called ahead to secure a table anyway.

“Come on,” I grasped Kristine’s hand, pushing through the small crowd by the door and approaching the host station. She surprised me by interlocking our fingers as we waited, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she looked up from beneath her lashes.

“It’ll be about twenty minutes for a table,” the hostess told us, not looking up from where she’d been wiping down menus.

“I reserved a table for Langley.”

“Ah,” she smiled as she looked up. “You’re a few minutes early, but I can make sure they’ve got it ready for yah.”

“That sure I’d agree to this?” Kristine asked quietly, leaning into my shoulder.

“I had a hunch,” I winked, but I’d only called around three after I left Isobel’s office.

After a few minutes, the hostess returned, leading us to a booth in the corner of the restaurant tucked behind a pillar. I knew Kristine was self-conscious about the two of us being seen outside the office, and I thought this would make it a little easier for her to relax and enjoy herself.

Turns out I was sorely mistaken. When the server showed up at our table a few moments later, I could see Kristine slam down the walls she’d been lifting bit by bit for me over the last several weeks.

“Sam? Hey!” Andrea greeted as she approached the table while tying an apron in place, not noticing Kristine on the opposite side of the booth. I’d had no idea that she also worked here. I knew some office staff had other jobs, but I’d never seen her here.

“Andrea.” My voice was slightly strained, and I could see Kristine getting visibly agitated as my eyes flitted between the two women. “I didn’t realize you worked here.”

“Oh, it’s only a little side gig. My uncle owns the place. I work a few nights a week to pick up some extra cash to pay for my books. What brings you in here tonight?” Andrea absently glanced at the other occupant of the table, her face sobering as she realized who was dining with me. I didn’t think she had anything in particular against Kristine, but seeing her sitting here with me was a surprise.

Kristine chimed in before I could formulate a response, her voice pinched. “Sam here lost a bet, so he had to buy me dinner tonight.”

“A bet?”

I narrowed my eyes at Kristine, wishing she didn’t have to push me away so often. I knew we’d never defined what we were to each other, but she made spending time with me outside the office sound like an obligation.

“Yeah, I bet he couldn’t get through the first draft of the manuscript we’re working on without crying, and I caught the poor bastard sobbing into his tablet last week. So, I’m making him buy me carbs.”

“Oh,” Andrea glanced at me, looking uncomfortable at Kristine’s made-up bullshit, but I wasn’t about to correct her. “It’s a thriller, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my hand reaching under the booth and squeezing Kristine’s knee, making her leg slightly jerk. “There’s a side character that gets killed by the serial killer, and it just tore me up a little reading about the lead character finding him.”

“Sam’s really in touch with his feminine side, a little too much, sometimes,” Kristine remarked, digging her fingernails into the back of my hand until I released her knee.

“Alright, well, do you two know what you’d like to order?” Andrea looked like she was about to bolt, as eager to escape this awkward exchange as I was.

Scanning the menu, I quickly rattled off my order of Chicken Parmesan, and Kristine ordered some truffle ravioli dish and two glasses of wine. I’d planned to treat her since I was the one who’d asked her out, but this was feeling less and less like a date and more like a disaster.

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed as Andrea headed toward the back to put our orders in at the kitchen pass thru.

“You didn’t tell me that people we knew worked here. I panicked.”

“Is it that horrible to be seen with me in public?”

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