by Katy Evans
Now, with this tender morning kiss, it feels like we’ve skipped five years down the line, like we’re married with kids. It’s a shocking thought, but it also makes me smile.
I feel sated, content and more relaxed than I’ve felt in a long time.
“If you go and make me a cup of coffee, I’ll get Rosie fed and sorted out,” she murmurs sleepily. I rub circles on her back. Her skin is incredibly soft and I can’t get enough. I like the taste of it too. So much I could kiss her, head to toe, if only for the pleasure of tasting her. If Rosie wasn’t crying, I’d be tempted to skip work and stay here all day, indulging in her.
“You don’t need to do that,” I assure her.
“I don’t mind,” she says with a sleepy smile. God, she looks good in the morning. She slips out of bed, completely naked, and starts dressing in her work clothes. It’s a shame to see her fully dressed now that I’ve seen what’s underneath, but I have to remind myself that she’s still my assistant. I can’t exactly ask her to work in her underwear.
Though a guy can dream.
She heads for the door but first, as if it’s an afterthought, she returns to kiss my cheek.
She seems almost nervous as she does, as though she’s not certain she should. I know the feeling—after a one-night stand with someone you know well, how do you act? Do you pretend like it didn’t happen? Do you go for a kiss, hoping that the night was the beginning of something more? India opted for middle ground, and I lie in bed for a moment, wondering what that means. Is she waiting to see which way this will swing, or is she trying to decide how she wants this to go?
I slip out of bed, shower as quickly as I can and get dressed. Then I head to the kitchen in a daze to make India a coffee. I’m suddenly consumed by confusing thoughts that I’m not ready to confront. What do I want from India? What does she want from me? Are we better pretending that last night was just a fling, or do we acknowledge it like adults?
How has this become so confusing? There were no blurred lines last night when we were wrapped up in each other’s arms. We knew we wanted each other, and without speaking, we could tell what the other wanted. She knew exactly how to use her mouth. She moaned to let me know I was doing exactly the right thing with my hands. But this morning, how can we communicate how we feel?
As the coffee machine brews two cappuccinos, I lean against the kitchen counter and try to formulate a plan. I want to let her know that, for me, last night wasn’t a fluke. It wasn’t a one-night thing that I’m happy to forget. I want this. I want her.
Maybe it’ll freak her out, though. We’ve gone from enemies to lovers in less than a month. Would she be opposed to a relationship, especially so soon? Would she worry about what her family and friends think? I’ll bet she’s told them things about me that put me in a bad light. Not that I blame her, but it wouldn’t help my case if I really want things to progress.
There’s too much to think about. Maybe the key is not to think at all. Maybe I just need to take a chance for once and tell her what’s on my mind. What’s the worst that could happen? At the end of the week, we go our separate ways and don’t speak again. If I never tell her how I feel, then that will happen anyway. But if I do, I might get the chance to keep her for a while longer.
With two coffees in hand, I slowly head upstairs. I psyche myself up, rehearsing lines in my head of what I can say to her. I can feel anxiety rising in my chest, my lungs constricted, my chest heaving as I fight for air. It’s been a long time since I opened up to anyone, let alone a woman. I take a deep breath. It’s going to be fine. What will be will be.
When I enter my bedroom, India has just finished changing Rosie. She tickles Rosie’s belly and she giggles, kicking her chubby legs in the air. Then India looks up and smiles. It takes my breath away for a moment. I feel a rush of love out of nowhere, for both Rosie and India. And suddenly all of the words I wanted to say are reduced to nothing. How can I now possibly describe to her what I’m going through?
India puts Rosie back in her crib and then takes a coffee from my hands. I watch as she takes a long sip, her eyes closed. She looks at peace. It’s a nice feeling to be the reason for that. I really want to say something to her, but my lips stay sealed.
India glances up at me, studying my face for a moment. Her forehead creases a little in confusion.
“Everything okay?” she asks. This is my opportunity; I should really say something. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. It’s starting to seem odd. India is waiting expectantly, and I’m just standing here, gaping like an idiot. In the end I sigh. Smile. Shake my head.
“Everything’s fine,” I tell her.
* * *
The week passes blissfully. On Tuesday evening India heads home, giving me a friendly wave as she leaves the house. I spend the evening alone with Rosie, who screams all through the night. It doesn’t bother me so much, though, because with thoughts of India rushing through my mind, I doubt I’d be able to sleep anyway. Each day, when she returns to work, I expect something to happen. I spend hours preparing lengthy, romantic speeches, only to allow them to fizzle on my lips each time I get close to saying something. We sneak glances at each other and secretive smiles, as though we’re in a room full of people who don’t know about the night we spent together. But we never mention it. We never get close to kissing, or even touching one another. We keep a professional distance, and my hopes of ever revealing my feelings to her seem to die. I try to accept that it was just one special night, but every part of me wants more. Now that I’ve had a taste of her, I crave her.
And yet she gives me no signs of how she’s feeling. She smiles sweetly and makes me cups of coffee and makes general chitchat, but she never makes a move. Never pushes the boundaries. I begin to wonder if I did something wrong. Maybe she didn’t enjoy the night as much as I thought. As Thursday comes and goes, I finally come to the conclusion that India is too good for me, and that she will forever be unobtainable.
It’s Friday morning now. I didn’t sleep much last night at all. Though Rosie slept peacefully through the night, I spent it tossing and turning, thinking about India. I suppose she could continue being my assistant. We’ve been working so well together now.
And I could buy myself sometime to warm her up to the idea of giving us a go.
But at the same time...will she feel used and diminished if I ask her to remain as my assistant after what happened—when what I really want is so much more?
Today is her final day in my employ. It’s also my last chance, I suppose. If I’m going to say something, it has to be today or not at all. The thought fills me with anxiety. Maybe if things were more definite, I wouldn’t feel this way, but I have no idea how things will go if I open up to her. All I know is I can let her go so easily.
She’ll be here in an hour. Rosie snuffles and begins to cry softly, so I scoop her up and rock her gently, the way that India taught me to. Another thing to love about India—she taught me to connect with my niece. I kiss Rosie’s forehead fondly, resting my tired eyes for a moment as Rosie begins to settle back down.
The quiet moment is broken by a FaceTime call. It’s Kit. He hasn’t FaceTimed me since last week, though he’s texted me plenty of questions throughout the time he’s been away. I rest Rosie on my lap to answer the call. Kit pops up on my screen, looking tanned and beaming with happiness.
“Yo, brother! You’re an early riser today,” he says, his voice filled with energy. I smile wearily.
“For once Rosie isn’t the culprit for my sleeplessness. It’s of my own doing, I guess.”
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that it’s only a few days until we come back and take the little rascal off your hands. Let us see her!”
I turn the camera so that Kit can coo at Rosie. Alex suddenly appears behind him.
“Hey, Will! Ohhhh, Rosie, how is my precious girl?”
Both Kit and Alex j
abber on to her for five minutes straight, as though she knows what they’re talking about, giving her details about their trip away and how much they miss her. When Kit finally tells me to turn the camera back around and Alex says goodbye, Rosie is completely out of it.
“We miss her little angel face,” Kit says, drooping a little. “Has she been good? Is she doing okay?”
“Of course she is. She’s struggling a little with the teething, but she’s good. I promise I’ve taken excellent care of her.”
“I know, I know. It’s just been hard leaving her for this long.” Kit sighs, raking his hand through his hair. “We’ve had a good time, but we’re ready to come back now. It’s not the same being without her.”
I smile. “You’ve gone soft, bro.”
Kit grins at me. “Yeah, well, babies tend to have that effect.” He shifts a little, and the image on the phone wobbles. “Anyway. How are you doing? Managing to fit in work okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say absentmindedly. I’ve still got India in the back of my head. Kit gives me a knowing look.
“Someone’s distracted.”
“Hmm? No, I’m listening.”
“You’ve got that assistant of yours on your mind. I can tell.”
I roll my eyes. “Now, why on earth would you think that?”
“Because you have a massive love bite on your chest.”
I glance down in panic. I’d forgotten about that. Kit laughs loudly, shaking his head at me.
“Oh, Will, you’re so fucking unsubtle. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that something was different?”
“Wait, how did you know it was India?”
“Oh, please, it’s so obvious. From the very first day you hired her, you’ve been out of sorts and even more of a grump than you always are. It was clear you wanted her, bad. Plus Dad rang. He told me everything he knows.”
I roll my eyes again. Trust Dad to tell all my secrets.
“So, come on. Spill the beans. What’s going on with you guys? Are you sleeping together? Is she good in bed?”
“Don’t be crude,” I hear Alex saying in the background. Kit mumbles an apology, though he’s waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Come on, bro, I want details.”
“Well...” I smile.
“Damn. That good?” Kit raises an eyebrow. “Wow. You really like her, huh?”
I nod. This is going into very revealing territory. But Kit isn’t teasing me anymore. He chews his lip, looking concerned.
“And does she feel the same?”
“I don’t know. It’s impossible to tell. We’ve been carrying on as normal. I get the feeling she just wants to forget about it all.”
“Well, how will you know if you never ask?”
I shrug. “I guess I won’t.”
Kit lets out a long, despairing sigh. “Will, listen to me. You’re only going to get one chance. If you let her walk away without saying anything, you could lose her for good. Is that what you want?”
“I... I don’t—”
Kit is getting more and more frustrated. “Why do you do this to yourself, man? You just back away at the first sign of a complicated feeling. You need to learn to open up and be honest. You’re probably giving her mixed signals. How is she supposed to know how to act when you’re not giving her anything in return?”
I think about all of the moments we’ve shared this week. Little things, like our hands brushing as she hands me a cup of coffee. Those moments when we smile at one another without any particular reason. Or when we try to pass one another in the corridor and both veer the same way and laugh. Am I not giving her the signals then?
“I’m no good at this. I don’t want to push the limits.”
“But that’s the whole point. You have to if you want to move forward. Otherwise you’ll be in this limbo forever.”
“Well, not forever. It’s her last day here today. I might never see her again.”
“Exactly! So if you don’t do anything now, you’ll spend the rest of your days wondering what could’ve happened if you’d just stepped up and made a move. Stop waiting for everything to fall into place, man. Do something about it.”
I know he’s right. Kit’s kind of like my nagging conscience—he always tells me what I already know, but what I need to hear out loud. But it’s not as simple as that. I don’t have his courage. I don’t have his charisma, his charm or any of his best qualities. The qualities that have landed him with a perfect wife and a perfect child. There’s a good reason he has those things when I don’t. But I can’t change who I am.
“No one’s asking you to change,” Kit says, as if reading my thoughts. “Just for a single moment, you need to push your boundaries. That’s all it takes. And the payoff will be massive—I promise you. You think I didn’t feel inadequate for Alex? For Cupid’s Arrow? At some point what we most want, what really makes us better, requires us to step into our fullest potential. Let it happen.”
I hear a knock on the door downstairs. It’s her. Kit seems to register what’s happening and gives me a reassuring nod.
“Remember everything I’ve said, bro. This is your last chance. Don’t waste it.”
He hangs up the call. I take a deep breath, gently lifting Rosie and putting her back in her crib. I hurry downstairs to let India inside like an eager puppy.
When I open the door, she’s standing there, waiting with a smile on her face. Of course I read way too far into this. Is she happy to see me, or was she thinking of something else? She looks me up and down with a warm gaze as she steps inside.
“Nice work attire today,” she murmurs as she eyes my black slacks and simple black button dress shirt. She doesn’t touch me as she heads for the stairs, but just the tone of her voice, sweet like honey, is enough to give me goose bumps, as though she’s caressed my skin with her slim fingers. I’m on edge again, thinking about everything Kit said to me.
Today is my final chance.
* * *
“Did you find a new assistant?”
I blink, looking up from my laptop. India has her feet propped on the desk, her laptop nestled on her legs. She’s watching me carefully. I get the feeling she’s looking for a certain answer, but what does she want me to say? That I’ll never hire another assistant because she was so wonderful?
“Yeah, I think we’re almost there,” I say truthfully. Human resources has narrowed it down to two candidates and I have interviews lined up with them on Monday. The good thing is that they can both start right away.
“Oh,” India says after a few moments. She deflates a little and takes her feet off the table. “Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want you to fall behind or anything.”
She doesn’t sound very sincere, but I just nod. There’s not much to say; it is what it is. India chews her thumb, mimicking an action I so often catch myself doing. She’s on edge. Is there something she wants to say to me?
In the end she just returns to work and I try to do the same, but she’s all that’s on my mind, as usual. In some ways I’m desperate for this day to end so I can be released from the confusion and the uncertainty. In other ways I’d rather keep this up forever than lose her completely. Say something. Just do it, I tell myself. But of course, I don’t listen.
Five o’clock comes quicker than I wanted it to. I tried to make each minute drag. I tried to fill it with India. With her laughter, her sarcastic jokes, her sultry gaze. But all too soon it’s over, and she’s packing her laptop up for the final time. The words are on the tip of my tongue. Stay. Stay with me.
I remain quiet.
India stands there for a few moments, gripping her laptop bag tightly. She looks around the office almost lovingly. “Well, I was just getting used to this,” she says with a humorless laugh. It gives me a pain in my chest to hear such a sad sound. Is she as gutted to be going as I am that she’
s leaving?
Tell her, Walker!
But my feelings are too alien to me. Too strong to voice aloud without feeling as if I’m ripping myself completely open here.
“Well...you’re welcome to come here anytime you want,” I tell her. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She needs me to say more. She needs me to give her something solid to work with. I want you here, I should say. She hangs her head, avoiding my eyes.
“Maybe I’ll pop in some time,” she says without much conviction. And then comes the moment I’ve been dreading. She holds her hand out for me to shake.
I’ve left it too late. This is it.
I take her hand in mine. It’s so small and warm in my palm. I want to raise it to my lips and kiss her hand. I want to pull her in and embrace her. But I don’t. She holds on for a little longer than she should, and then she slips away from my grip, wincing as if I squeezed too tightly.
Or as if it hurt to let go.
I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. Burning for her, from the inside out.
“It’s been a pleasure...working for you these past couple weeks,” she tells me. Then, with a curt nod, she turns and leaves, and I can’t bear to watch the moment when she walks out of my life.
Me, the big shot who built his company from the ground up. Self-made millionaire, workaholic who will do anything to get what he wants. Except when it truly counts, I suppose. Because I couldn’t muster the damn courage to tell India that I want her. All of her. Like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.
Damn it. Big shot? I’ve never felt like such a loser in my whole life.
I guess I’ve never really had anything I really cared about to lose before.
* * *
I sit for a long time in my room with Rosie. She’s barely stirred all day, lying quietly in her crib without any fuss. I almost wish she’d wake up or cry to give me a distraction. I feel like there’s a hole in my chest. A hole left by the beautiful assistant who just walked out on me.