Page 27 of Choosing the right Man

“We kissed.” My voice is barely audible.

“I’d love to do more of that. All you have to do is say the word,” he tells me. He rests his fingers next to one of my handsthat’s clutching the chair. He doesn’t move close enough for us to touch, but he’s close enough for me tofeelhim. That’s almost worse. Anticipation is real.

“You know it can’t happen,” I say, my voice filled with regret.

“How are things with your boyfriend?” he asks, the last word coming out as almost a taunt.

“They’re wonderful,” I lie, false cheer in my tone. “I feel like a newlywed, if I’m being honest.”

I can’t look him in the eyes. I’ve never been a good liar. It’s a quality some say is a good trait, but in the lives of movers and shakers, it isn’t something I’m happy about.

He doesn’t say anything, and I want to look at him, want to see if he believes what I’m saying. We stand there for an endless amount of time. I finally can’t take it anymore. His hand doesn’t flicker and his body doesn’t move. He’s barely giving me any space. But he doesn’t say a word. I look up.

There’s a tender expression on his face as he gazes at me. He seems to have all of the time in the world — all of the time for me. I don’t know what to do with that, don’t know what to think about it. I suddenly feel close to crying. I haven’t told anyone about my problems with Mason, not even Audrey, who’s my best friend. I haven’t talked to her in quite a while, actually. I haven’t realized how long until right this moment. Has it been six months? Longer? I don’t know. I don’t want to call her, though. She knows me. She’ll know in seconds that something’s wrong. I don’t want her to know how close I’ve been to cheating. She wouldn’t approve.

“Liar,” he says. The word is spoken so softly it takes me a minute to process it, to realize he called me on my BS. My body trembles. I want to look away, and once again, I can’t. He captures my gaze and isn’t letting it go.

He doesn’t move his body, but his fingers shift. Not a lot, only the tiniest bit. His pinkie finger covers mine. It’s a gesturea friend might make, but there’s nothing friendly in the way I feel toward Mason. Red hot lava flows through my system. His pinkie brushes mine and my body tightens. I’m held by his gaze. I’m lost. I’m ready to admit it all to him, to beg him to make me feel wanted — needed — beautiful — appreciated.

“Anytime,” he says, his voice husky, as if he can read my thoughts. Maybe he can. Maybe the need is in my eyes, in my body. He still doesn’t make a move. I’m visibly shaking as I gaze at him.

I don’t know what to do. Am I about to cave? I’ll never know because a loud crash in the hallway is followed by a curse word.

I rip my gaze from Mason and pull my hand free. I don’t say another word as I turn and walk from the room. Dell is picking up a pile of folders as he continues mumbling. He must be in a rush to exit the building, and he walked straight into one of the beautiful plants, knocking it over and dropping everything in his arms.

“You don’t have to help me. I’m sure you want to get out of here,” he says. Though he’s obviously grateful for the assistance.

“It’s no problem. I hope you won’t leave me here doing it on my own when I do the exact same thing,” I say with a laugh.

He smiles at me, a boyish smile that lights his eyes. “Thanks,” he says. “And you can count on it.”

“Why don’t we walk out together? I’ll feel better with company since it’s so late. I’m going to have to take a taxi. The busses aren’t running this late.”

“I have my car. I’ll give you a ride home,” he says.

“That’s okay, Dell. I appreciate it, but it’s late, and I’m sure you need to get home,” I say, not wanting to be a burden.

“I can give you a ride,” Mason says, bending to pick up the last folder. I didn’t realize he’d approached us. That’s a first since I’ve met him. I’m in a panic. I can’t say no to him in front of Dell, andhave Dell thinking there’s a reason I don’t want to be alone with Mason.

“Where do you live?” Dell reasonably asks.

“On the West Side, about fifteen minutes from here.” I feel panic in my voice.

“That’s the opposite way for you, boss. I got this,” Dell says. The man doesn’t see Mason’s eyes narrow. I look away, afraid I’ll blush at any minute. I’d gladly smack a big one on Dell right now for saving me.

“If it really is no problem, I’ll accept, Dell,” I say, my voice grateful.

“I insist. Let’s get out of here before the boss gives us more to do.”

I laugh as I fall into step beside him, and we make our way to the elevator. Dell calls out a goodbye to Mason, but I don’t. I hope against hope Mason won’t join us on the ride down. It won’t be quite as bad as the two of us being alone in the elevator, but it will remind me of our first ride together and all of the desire I felt that day.

Dell pushes the button and the doors close with only the two of us in it. I let out a sigh of relief, much louder than I intended. I’m leaving, and there’s no work tomorrow, so I can breathe a little.

“I give out that same sigh sometimes,” Dell says with another laugh.

“Do you ever get grumpy?” I ask. “You always seem to be in such a good mood.”

“What do I have to be grumpy about? I love my job, have a great wife, two monster children, and a family that can sometimes be overwhelming, but I adore them. Yeah, I have off days, but for the most part I like to look at the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow rather than the storm that brought the rainbow in the first place,” he tells me.

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