Page 6 of Due South

I don’t catch the words she mumbles. His response is to shake her gently.

“No, it’s not. Tell me.”

That’s when she crumples against him. He tosses the folder onto her desk and wraps his arm around her, holding her tight. I’ve never seen India look so vulnerable. So small. So fragile. She’s always hell-on-wheels, and seeing her like this makes me uncomfortable.

“This deal is important.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You say that, but you don’t understand. I knew when Jack retired some of his clients wouldn’t stay. I was counting on it because I can’t handle that volume of work by myself. But I hadn’t anticipated this many of them not renewing their contracts. And those fuckers in Springfield put out an RFP this morning.”

Cris lays his cheek on the top of her head and rubs her back. It’s so sweet I almost can’t bear it.

“We’re okay, but if this keeps up… I have a responsibility to these people. Other people’s livelihoods are depending on me. Solace is going to have her baby any day, Tudor’s youngest is finishing her first semester at Swarthmore, Benson just bought a house—”

She runs down a list of each person in the office. I can’t believe she knows that much about every single last person who works for her. Evans and I exchange glances, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. She’s always so brusque and dismissive. We didn’t know…

“And Evans… I don’t know what he spends his money on because it’s certainly not clothes and he drives a car that could be mistaken for a roller skate, so it must be going somewhere important. And Lucy… Crispin, if I have to tell Lucy she doesn’t have a job anymore because I failed—”

Her voice cracks on a sob. Somehow, my fingers have become entwined with Evans’s, and the squeeze from his hand echoes the one in my heart. I know deep down India cares about me, but it’s easy to forget with how demanding she can be. Seeing her almost in tears because she doesn’t want to let me down…it almost makes me want to give her a hug myself. I can’t imagine that would be welcome, though, so I’ll let Cris do it for me.

“You’re not going to fail.”

“But—”

“You’re not going to fail, India. I know this is stressful and scary and I’m not trying to tell you not to feel that way. But it’s going to be okay. You’re going to kill this project, like you do everything else, and BCG is going to be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

They stand there for minutes, and I’m regretting my decision to kneel on the floor. My knees have started to hurt, but I don’t dare move. India would be mortified if she knew I’d seen her like this.

Cris murmurs something to her, and she snorts. He wraps a hand into her hair and pulls, separating them.

She scowls and I think it’s because he pulled her hair, but she doesn’t object. “Are you honestly trying to tell me your job is harder than mine?”

“No. My job is easy, but my extracurricular activities more than make up for it. Who do you think is harder to manage? BCG’s thirty employees or you?”

India giggles. My hard-as-nails, hell-spawn boss actually giggles. The unfamiliar sound comes to an abrupt stop when Cris wrenches her hair and she falls to her knees. Her voice is breathy and weird when she says, “Me, sir.”

What in the hell—

I look to Evans, confident we’ll be exchanging incredulous glances, but his eyes are glued to the scene happening in front of us. Nor does he look surprised. How is he not surprised?

The sound of Cris’s voice draws me back to where he’s still gripping my boss’s hair in one hand and stroking his scruffy jaw with the other. “You know, I’ve always wanted to fuck you at your office.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you’re such a harsh task mistress whenever I come to pick you up, there’s always someone still here, and when I drop you off, you’re so raring to work you’d bite my head off if I suggested it.”

“There’s no one here now, sir.”

Yes, there is. Theresois.

I cut off the squeak rising in my throat.Oh my god.My boss and her husband are totally going to do it right in front of me. But what the heck is with all theyes, sir, no, sirstuff? If anyone wears the pants in that marriage, it’s—

That’s when Cris lets go of her hair to undo his belt and slip it out of the loops. “Over the desk, bad girl.”

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