Page 29 of Everything She Wanted

I expect him to balk or steer the discussion elsewhere, but he doesn’t.

“It must be so tough. I’m sorry you have to go through that,” he says earnestly.

“I mean, things are changing and going in the right direction, I hope. We’re just not there yet.”

“Let me know how I can help.” He gives me a soft smile that feels like it’s reserved just for me.

“I’m not even sure, but offering to look at my plan, that’s a lot.”

“Let’s see it.” He starts clearing away our containers, and I try to help.

“Let me.”

I’m not used to this, and I feel this weird discomfort. Since I was seven years old, I’ve been picking up after the men in my home.

When he sits down again, he angles his chair toward me, and I find myself doing the same. He’s a forcefield; I’m a helpless magnet. I want to reach out and run my fingers up and down his solid bicep, but I sit on my hand instead.

He leans in closer as he brings his thumb to my cheek and grazes it softly. “You have something right here.”

My breath hitches, and I lose myself in his sparkling eyes before breathing out a barely audible, “Oh.”

He pulls his thumb slowly away.

I release my hand and bring a napkin to the exact spot he touched, but when I look down, there’s nothing there.

“Got it.” He licks his lips slowly as his eyes meet mine. They look like the most decadent dessert I want to bite into.

A low noise comes from outside the room, and my head snaps to the glass walls surrounding us, but I see nothing. My heart rate jumps like I’m on the elliptical at the gym, and I remind myself where I am.

At work.

With a guy I work with.

His eyes track my movements, but he’s unperturbed by the possibility of being seen. To him, that was probably an innocent gesture, but to me, it felt like a naughty one that I want more of.

“I’m not sure how to connect this to the big screen.” I gesture to the projector to get things back on track.

He sits up and glances at my screen.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s getting late. Do you mind if I look on your laptop?” His voice is all professional and calm, like he didn’t just electrify my every nerve ending with a swipe of his thumb.

“Sure.” I slide it over to him. I try my best not to stand up and pace as he reads through it. I pretend to peruse my notebook like it has the answers to all of life’s questions within its pages.

Then, of course, I remember the SMS chat with Jess, and I’m praying I didn’t leave that conversation open, where she made too many inappropriate comments about him, among other things.

“Is it okay if I add some comments?”

“Of course,” I say like I’m not freaking out.

I glance over his shoulder, cringing inwardly and second-guessing every little thing I wrote.

He spends more time on it than I thought he would, and immediately, a sinking feeling makes its way into my gut. It’s probably horrible and he doesn’t know how to tell me how much it sucks. Here I am talking about getting noticed and how hard it is as a woman, but truthfully maybe it’s just because my work is crap.

You’re so high on yourself, is what Eshaan would say to me. Who do you think you are?

Flashes of memories I’ve tried to ignore start assaulting me, and when I think I can’t take it anymore, he turns to face me, our knees just a hair apart.

“That’s so incredible. I read it over three times, because I haven’t seen a plan that thorough before. You came up with marketing options I never even thought of.”