Page 56 of Mark my Words

“Sam,” she sighed, leaning back into the wall of the wooden booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “This isn’t part of our arrangement. We don’t date. This wasn’t a good idea.”

“I know, but I thought maybe things were starting to change between us. It’s not just...” I wasn’t even sure how to phrase how my feelings had been evolving toward her. It wasn’t just physical anymore, and she couldn’t deny it with how many nights she ended up in my bed without sex being involved.

“Maybe we need to slow things down. We’ve been spending too much time together. It’s just going to make things messy.”

“What? That’s what you want?”

Her eyes were in her lap when she nodded, pulling her bag from the side of the booth and pulling it over her shoulder. “Yes. We work together, Sam. Why did we think this was a good idea?”

“At least eat your food first. God, why do you have to be so dramatic about everything?”

“It’s fine, Sam. I...” she paused as she looked up into my eyes, conflict visible in her expression. “I think we’ve been confusing our relationship lately. It started as just scratching an itch. For both of us. But...”

“We both know it’s not like that anymore,” I hissed.

“Well, I’m not sure if I’m ready for what it’s turning into.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Seeing someone from the office outside of work had unsettled her, but Andrea didn’t seem to suspect anything. She thought we were here because of Kristine’s BS story about a bet. Like I’d cry over the death of a character—please, I wasn’t Adrian.

“Alright, if that’s what you need, we can take some time to figure things out.”

“It’s not like you’re my boyfriend, Sam. I’m not breaking up with you. I need to sort some things out, and this is making everything more complicated than it needs to be. People will talk if she says something, and I can’t afford to have that kind of gossip hanging over my head.”

Once our food arrived, we were both quiet, and I laid off bringing up anything suggestive for fear that I’d push her right over the edge. Clearly, she was in panic mode, and I knew nothing I said would get through to her.

The relationship I thought we’d been building was slipping through my fingers before I could admit how deep my feelings for her had grown. Did I let her push me away and accept this wasn’t going anywhere, or did I call her bluff and make her admit she felt something too? Neither option seemed like it’d turn out how I wanted, so my only alternative was to do what she asked and take a step back to let her figure out her feelings.

“Can we talk about this?” I asked as I slipped my card into the payment folder, impatiently waiting for Andrea to return and take care of the check. I knew once she brought it back, she’d stay away until we left, and every time she stopped at the table, it just made Kristine that much more anxious.

“What exactly is there to talk about, Sam? You don’t seem to understand how this stuff works,” she sighed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She’d closed herself off again, and all I desperately wanted to do was pull one of her hands across the table and stroke her fingers until she calmed down.

“How what works?” I mean, I got that it would make the rounds with the gossip mill, but it was hardly scandalous. We liked spending time together, and it wasn’t anyone else’s business what we were to each other.

“It’s so easy for you. You’re a guy. No one cares who you screw around with. You could fuck half the office, and no one would care.”

“But I’m not fucking half the office. I’m...”

“Don’t,” she threw her hand up, her eyes flaring with annoyance. “Don’t even say it.”

“Fine,” I sighed, waiting for her to continue. “Go on.”

“You sleep around, and you’re some kind of stud. I sleep around, and suddenly I’m the recipient of rude and suggestive comments from the Carsons of the office. Don’t you think that kind of thing gets back to the executives? The same people who sit on the panel for the full-time editor positions. If they think I’m...”

“Wait,” I interrupted her, holding up my hand while she frowned at me. “None of them are going to hit on you. That’s a sexual harassment claim waiting to happen.”

“I didn’t say that. If you would have let me finish,” she paused as Andrea awkwardly stopped beside the table and snatched up my card, promising she’d return it quickly.

“If you would have let me finish, I would tell you that it affected my professional integrity. Do you think they will take me seriously if I’m boning my way through the interns? They will question my ability to manage a team if they think I’m the office bicycle.”

“It’s none of their business who you have a relationship with, sexual or otherwise,” I argued but snapped my mouth shut, nodding at Andrea as she handed me back the check. She didn’t try to stick around to talk, obviously sensing the tension between Kristine and me. But at least she couldn’t misinterpret it as something scandalous if she thought we were fighting.

“No, it’s not, but it’ll be there in the back of their minds while they’re making the decisions anyway. It’s not fair and sexist as hell, but it’d be there, Sam. And it’s fucking horrible. I refuse to let a few stolen moments in a conference room fuck up my entire career.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to refute what she was saying. Part of me wanted to dismiss it as paranoia, but I knew what she said had some validity.

“No one needs to know our relationship outside the office is more than just friendly colleagues. I can see why you’re worried, but it’s a leap for people to assume we’re sleeping together if we spend time together. And we both know the conference room didn’t define the depth of our time together.”

“But we are sleeping together, Sam,“ she sighed. “The lines are all blurry. One slip and a fling turns into something dangerous. We had sex together in the office.”

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