Page 15 of Coming Around Again

She eyes me narrowly, then points toward a chair in her casual seating area instead of the one across from her desk. She pokes her head outside, tells her assistant not to disturb her until she’s out of her meeting, and closes the door. “Now,” she says, “how bad is it?”

“Why do you think it’s bad?” I say, defensive.

“Because your face has got ‘deep shit’ written all over it,” she says, giving me an understanding smile. “And because my spidey senses say so. Come on, spill.”

I still don’t know where I’m going to start, until I start. “Naya,” I say, and then I sigh.

“Naya Miller, our new hire?” Aunt Carla says, her eyebrows arching up. They’re still dark although her sleek bob has gone a beautiful silver color.

I sigh again.

“I was getting a weird vibe the other day,” Aunt Carla says dryly. “So. A one-night stand at a convention, or you used to date her sister, or what?”

I open my mouth and the whole story comes pouring out, like a stream of water from a fire hydrant.

How we’d met as teenagers. How we’d fallen in love almost immediately, but because she was afraid she’d lose her job at the Love Lake resort, we kept it a secret. How we’d planned to be together, once college started and she didn’t need that job anymore.

Then the accident. Then the years of silence. The loneliness. Meeting again, when I found out that she’d been chosen as our new analyst. Reuniting. Arguing. The fact that although she doesn’t report to me directly, I’d be supervising her work—a forbidden relationship once again.

“I don’t want to lose her again,” I say. Miserable. “And it’s not fair to make her leave just so we can date. This is a great career builder for her, but I’m not about to leave GoPlay.” I lift my hands, then drop them into my lap.

Aunt Carla is silent, studying me, until I look up at her. “This is fixable,” she says in her reassuring way. “You weren’t involved in interviewing or hiring her, so that’s not an issue. Second, the company doesn’t have a no-fraternization policy, and I hope we never will. We do, however, have a disclosure policy, which you have followed appropriately by telling me about your earlier relationship.” She smiles. “And that you would like to pursue a new relationship.”

“Oh god, I hope so,” I say, closing my eyes.

“I think we can safeguard Naya’s career here by making sure she doesn’t report solely to you, and if on occasion you are supervising her work, you will pull her actual direct supervisor into the loop to make sure everybody is happy and there’s no funny business. I think we can manage just fine, Desmond.”

I feel my tension unstring all at once. For just one moment I have a brief flash of memory: Naya on my bed, naked and sleek and juicy, reaching for me, the slick pink of her cleft calling me like she’s my drug of choice, and I nearly shudder with remembered sensation.

“Would you like me to talk to her?” Aunt Carla asks, reaching for her desk phone. I nod silently, and Aunt Carla asks Naya to come to her office to address a small HR issue that’s arisen. No big deal, nothing to worry about, but please come up now.

Four minutes later, Naya walks in and stops dead when she sees me. Her face goes through anger to consternation, and then to something softer I can’t quite read. Aunt Carla invites her to sit down in the chair at right angles to mine, and sits down herself, so we’ve got a little triangle of chairs here.

“So I gather there’s a history between you two,” Aunt Carla says with admirable calm, “and there may be a renewal of the relationship. First, I want to reassure you that I have no worries. You also need to know that Desmond’s top concern was making certain that your reputation and possibility of advancement would not suffer. Which it won’t. I’ll have a chat with Michelle, and we’ll all agree that you’ll bring her in on any project when you’re working together, so there will be a neutral party involved. Is that acceptable?”

Naya nods, her fingers twisting in her lap.

She’s so fucking beautiful. She’s wearing a coral-colored blouse over her pencil skirt, and her hair looks like cinnamon, and I can’t stop looking at her. I can smell the faint odor of her hair.

I want to kiss her, but it will have to wait until after we leave work.

“What if,” she says, her voice trailing off as she stares at her hands, “what if we break up?” Her mouth pinches tight—with pain, not anger, I realize.

“Never,” I say, not waiting for Aunt Carla.

Naya looks at me with those deep chocolate eyes, and I see how much it hurt her when I was suddenly gone at the end of our summer together. Wasn’t my fault—or anyone’s fault—but I hurt her badly. “I’m not losing you again.”

Her eyes pool with tears, and she looks away. Swallows hard. Then nods.

“Well, I know Desmond,” Aunt Carla says, “and I know he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. True, we don’t know how things will go between you…but on the off-chance that things don’t work out, I’d expect the two of you to be rational, professional adults when you have to work together. Do either of you foresee a problem with that?”

Naya shakes her head, still looking at me, and I keep looking back, trying to tell her without words that she’s got me. The wheel of fortune may have swung us away from each other, but it’s coming around again, and this time we won’t let go.

This time it’s for good.

“Well, all right then,” Aunt Carla says. “You two go about your workdays. Go have dinner.” She gives me a small, smug smile. “Now shoo. And don’t be late for work tomorrow.”

Once outside HR, I put a hand on Naya’s elbow. “Will you go to dinner with me?”

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