Layers

by Sigal Ehrlich

  “As in my cute boss Rob, one late evening at the office.”

  I gaze at her trying to figure out just how wrong that is.

  Responding to my scrutinizing glare she adds, “Rob, my boss, who lives with someone.”

  Oh, not good in any aspect of moral rectitude.

  “One hummus wrap and iced water,” bright orange energetic being places my order in front of me, and then silently serves Tasha her dish.

  “Anything else?” she asks us, smiling at me, then without actually waiting for a reply walks over to check if the people at the next table need anything.

  “How come, Tash?” I observe her with furrowed brows. “Knowing you as well as I do, correct me if I am wrong, he’s not exactly your type.” Deepening my stare at her I add, “Let alone the fact that you’re not the sort of person who’d jeopardize her career for a fling, or anything else for that matter.”

  I pause for a brief moment to recompose my thoughts, still watching her intently. “That’s what this is, a fling, right?”

  She slowly moves her mouth from side to side under my observant glare as though assessing my point.

  “He’s so sweet and sexy in a bossy, forbidden kind of way. We stayed late one evening …” She stops to take a sip from her sweating glass. “He didn’t stop flattering me all night. He flirted like an enthralled teenager.” She plays with the drops on her glass, wiping them with the tip of her finger. “An accidental bump led to a kiss which led to another and the rest is history.” She jabs at her food with her fork, moving the dressing-soaked lettuce from one side of her plate to the other. Finally, she raises her eyes to meet mine. They take on a shy tone. This is so not the Tasha I know.

  “Does your semi-idiotic smile and this weird not-like-you behavior mean that you’re gonna keep doing the bad deed with boss man?” I inquire; smiling at her like one would indulgently smile at a misbehaved little toddler.

  All of a sudden Tasha’s whole demeanor changes: she friendly grins at something. I raise a questioning eyebrow her way and before I can turn around to look, two warm, firm hands rest on my shoulders.

  “Natasha, how have you been?” Daniel’s cheerful voice inquires. Daniel’s cheerful voice? Daniel cheerful in the middle of a work day?

  “Hello again.” He smiles at me as I stretch my head back to look at him towering above me. He bends down and kisses me, an intrusive, lustful kiss. Wow, and hello again to you, too.

  Tasha waits for Daniel’s erotic display of affection to cease and answers that she’s fine. “And how are you doing, Daniel?”

  Shouldn’t she call him Mr. Stark? No way. I kill the thought as it rises.

  “I’m doing very well.” He sends me his crooked side smile.

  What happened to him? This is Dr. Jekyll after developing a cure for cancer. He stands next to me and takes a bite of my wrap and a sip from my drink. I observe him in elation. He seems so casual and laid back. It is the first time I’ve see him like this around other people besides me. Perhaps I do have to project his brains off more often, for everyone’s sake … The thought makes me smile inwardly.

  “What are you doing here?” I look at him happily, highly enjoying the relaxed cheerfulness beaming from his hazel eyes.

  “I came for a soda.”

  “Did Anne go home? Is she okay?” Did you happen to fire your PA, perhaps in one of your psycho episodes? He chuckles, amused.

  “No, she’s actually at her desk as we speak. I just wanted to have a short walk outside, enjoy the nice weather.”

  I can’t stop smirking at him; he is utterly adorable like this.

  “You’re in a good mood.” I widen my grin.

  “I had a very productive meeting earlier.” He winks at me. That would be, what? The fourth wink today?

  “I’m glad to hear it. That must give you a feeling of satisfaction.”

  His grin broadens. “Yes, though I wouldn’t mind digging my brains further in that direction, perhaps work some more on the subject. It concerns one of my most intriguing projects.”

  The innuendos in this conversation could not be more noticeable. I wonder what Tasha will have to say about this as soon as Mr. Sunshine here leaves.

  His wide grin delights me.

  “Okay, ladies, I will let you continue from where you left off before my intrusion.” “Natasha,” Daniel adds, nodding at her. “You,” he says to me, “Are. Coming. Tonight.”

  Coming? Mmm … He turns on his heels, but not before leaving me entirely dazzled by another kiss even deeper, and more intense than its precursor. I could easily just follow him right now and talk him into act two of our earlier matinee performance.

  “I told you that projecting his brains off would do the job.” Tasha wrinkles her nose, a teasing curve tugging her lips.

  “You are so predictable. I was waiting to see how long it would take you to say that.”

  We both giggle.

  “So, back to you. What’s next with Rob the boss?” She thinks for a second and then mutters, “I don’t know, I guess I’ll flow with it. I’m not going to be the one initiating anything more serious, that’s for sure.”

  “And what about the fact that he already has a live-in girlfriend?”

  “Well, that’s his problem, not mine.”

  Miss Judas does have a point.

  “Are you going to drop by the apartment tonight before running off to get laid?” Tasha asks just as we go our separate ways.

  I snicker, “I might. Depends when I get off work.”

  “I really do miss you, Hales.” Her voice is transparently honest. We embrace tightly as we say our goodbyes.

  Chapter 19: Workplace Romance and Fraternization

  Daniel, talking on the phone, greets me with a warm embrace. He’s wearing a black tee and a pair of faded jeans that are slightly worn at the knees. A kitchen towel hangs over his shoulder, giving him an entirely domestic, sexy look. Indulging in his hug, I try to figure out what the mouthwatering aroma coming from the kitchen is.

  He takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen, and without any prior warning I’m being lifted and settled on the kitchen counter, legs waving. Still deeply in conversation, he stands in front of me, parting my legs with his body, and starts kissing my neck. He holds the phone back for a moment and murmurs, “You smell so good, it’s driving me crazy.”

  Multitasking, D? I like it. Entirely absorbed in his embrace, resting my head on his chest, I listen to the reverberation of his voice.

  “For fuck’s sake, Rob, stop circling around the subject. I’m not interested in lame excuses; I’m interested in the solution,” Daniel snarls, making me flinch. He sighs and continues, “When the fuck do you expect the release of the next generation? Will we be delinquent to our initial deadline?”

  Oh, hello Mr. Hyde. I missed you for a while there. Wait a minute. Rob? Release? Rob-as-in-my-best-friend-did-the-horizontal-dance-with Rob?

  “Seriously, Christ, think again and then answer,” Daniel flares, getting more irritated, and I can feel the change on my now attacked neck. Hey, I’m not the one to blame here, though this rough fondling strikes a delicious cord deep, deep inside my core. He leaves me too abruptly for my taste and turns to stir the aromatic red sauce in the pan on the stove.

  “Either call when you have a better answer or call Jobs-R-Us,” Daniel mutters with a tone as cold as ice, one I haven’t heard so far and could continue living devoid of. He quickly hangs up the phone.

  “Taste this.” Daniel brings a wooden spoon with a steaming, chunky red sauce to my lips. He flashes me a crooked, scarred, sweet smile. Ping ponging between Hyde and Jekyll tonight, are we?

  “Mmm. Did you make it?” I savor the exquisite, spicy sauce.

  “No, but I have tremendous talent for heating frozen Italian food,” he responds with indecent glee. He kisses me hard, his tongue almost forcefully invading my slightly parted lips, claiming every part of my surprised yet welcoming mouth.

  “It does taste delicious,”
he murmurs, and bends to meet my mouth again. He fetches his phone to the sound of “It’s a Small World After All.” I grin at this revelation. That’s your ringtone, D? After glancing at the screen, he answers in an intolerant staccato. “Well? What is it now?” He saws his lips as he listens, looks at me with a piercing stare, then responds, “Better. Though I frankly don’t understand why for fuck’s sake this wasn’t your first answer.” His voice rises as he emphasizes the last part. He halts for a moment as though in thought and then says, “Rob, this was the first and the last time I waste my valuable time waiting for a better answer from you. There will not be a next time.”

  I thank the powers that be that I am this man’s lover rather than his employee.

  “So, where were we?” Placidity is back.

  “You were showing me how talented you were at heating Italian food and making my every cell melt, not necessarily in that particular order.”

  He raises his wicked gaze to meet mine and that scar, oh, that scar, lifts in sinful promise.

  “Was that Rob from R&D?” I question.

  Daniel’s brows knit inquisitively. “Yes, that was him. Why?” he says, licking the wooden spoon, disrupting the hell out of my train of thought.

  “It’s just that he’s been quite popular today.”

  “Is that so?”

  Daniel is between my parted thighs again, brushing his fingers through my hair, pulling my head slightly back and pressing yet another seductive kiss on my eager mouth.

  I could sit here reciprocating his fondling all day long. Who am I kidding, forever.

  “Well, it seems that he and Tasha had an intimate encounter recently.”

  Daniel surveys me for a prolonged moment; I squirm slightly at the tension he gives off. His features harden and his body stiffens. His jaw clenches under his skin and the look in his recently soft and playful eyes turns grave. I watch him, trying to understand the reason for this sudden change.

  “Well,” he says, deeply introspective, “I’ll need Mrs. Greenich to present Miss Taylor and Rob with an R and F tomorrow morning.”

  What the hell is he talking about? What’s an R and F and why should Miss Greenich have to present it to Tasha?

  “What does Mrs. Greenich have to give to Tasha?” I ask.

  “Our R and F form. An employee termination of contract in an inevitable situation. It’s the procedure my HR has to follow after a breach of the company’s policies.” He looks at me, dead serious.

  Concerned, and deeply hoping he’s just pretending to be, I hope that he’s making all this up. I wait for a naughty smile to arrive any second now, but it doesn’t. Baffled, I ask him if he’s serious.

  “Oh, when it comes to my business, Hayley, I don’t joke. Miss Taylor violated the company’s policy and one of the terms of her contract.” What’s with the righteous trance? And come on, Tasha’s Miss Taylor now?

  Entirely in shock but still hoping very much that he’s just joking with me, I ask him to elaborate which rule Tasha broke, exactly.

  “Workplace romance and fraternization.”

  “No way, you cannot be serious, are you?” I gape at him, my voice shaken, still finding it very hard to believe he might actually be serious.

  And as though to justify his statement he adds, “It’s to avoid favoritism and sexual harassment lawsuits.”

  “Well, I understand the fundamental logic of such a policy, but Daniel, we’re talking about me conveying this information to you as my …” As his what? I choose to continue with, “as me, to you, about my friend. I’m not talking to Mr. Stark, CEO of Stark Software, for god’s sake.” The fragile seams holding my nerves together are at the verge of tearing and I’m positive I’m transmitting that to Mr. Irrational here.

  Clenched jaw and austere eyes observe me. “I can’t,” he says in a low, single-minded, firm voice.

  Not a chance in hell I’m letting this go through. He cannot fire her because of me. He cannot take the information I shared with him, as my so-called lover, and use it against my best friend. I’m getting panicked and angry at this stubborn, illogical man. Could you step out of your resolute psyche for just one second and hear what I have to say? “Daniel,” I say, my voice calm yet icy. “Please look at me.”

  His eyes turn to fix on mine. A hint of softness appears in them. This is a good sign; perhaps he’ll listen.

  “Daniel, this information about my friend that I’ve just shared with you is private.” Anger swells in my gut the more I think about it, but I am doing my very best to remain collected. “Tasha confided in me without any need to hold back, which is the most natural thing in the world for her to do, given I’m her closest friend.” I stress the last part. “I, on the other hand, I shared this information with you as your friend not realizing you’d take it as a cue to abuse my confidence in you.”

  I pause to force out a necessary breath of indignation.

  “Have I been wrong to confide in you?” I ask. “If I am, it would mean a major change in the dynamics between us,” I add, not leaving his eyes, hoping to find some sort of recognition and acceptance of what I’ve just said.

  Breaking our eyes contact he says, absentmindedly, “I’ll let this one pass on a technicality, you being my girlfriend and all.” He sighs in resignation, far from seeming to agree with his own words.

  Girlfriend? Though somewhat dazed, my heart still does a flip, overjoyed.

  “Wow, you’ve just been so, hmm, un—you …” Still sitting on the counter beside where he stands, I reach for his hand; I pull him closer for a hug which he gladly returns. I frame his bristled face with both hands and plant a lush, leaving-no-prisoners-behind kiss on his lips, inhaling his musky, male scent. His eyes flare as he eagerly cooperates with my harassment.

  Coming up for air, he asks, “And I should take that as a compliment?” His lips insinuate a glimpse of a smile; I give him my most caring, glowing grin and nod.

  “What has become of me? What are you doing to me?” he breathes, then sighs, shaking his head, and to my reluctance resumes attending to our food, a small, crooked curve resting on his lips.

  Chapter 20: New Layer

  “Here we go.” Daniel grinds the last portion of parmesan onto one of the dishes, putting the Natasha/Rob cold case file to rest. “And voilà.” He gestures to the two plates of steaming, delectable-looking spaghetti and meatballs with grated fragrant parmesan. One look at the dishes and a sudden homesick longing falls over me.

  “What is it?” Daniel scans me, concern twining subtly through his tone.

  “It’s silly.” My lips twist with an awkward, trying-to-appear-casual grin. “It’s just … that’s my mom’s special comfort food and it makes me miss home.” Without leaving my eyes he makes his way toward where I am sitting and wraps his arms around me, shelters me with strength and warmth. Under his cocooning my tension begins to subside.

  He leans back slightly and tips my chin up with his finger. “Hey, don’t. Look at me.” He says in a gentle, low voice, “It really gets me down to see you upset.” I don’t know why, but being held by him, this sudden longing for home, his words and their sincerity achieve the very opposite of his intention, and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

  “Hales,” he breathes and hugs me tight, pulling me to the center of his firm chest, to the core of his Daniel scent.

  Hales. That’s the first time he’s called me that. Until now, the only people to use that nickname were my family, Tasha, and Ian. That is all it takes to trigger additional tears. What’s going on with me? I don’t do crying. Get a hold of yourself, and fast. Stop! Now!

  “Don’t cry,” he murmurs to my hair, clearly concerned. He wraps me tighter in his embrace, fluttering at the top of my head with light kisses.

  “I’m not crying, it’s just these stupid allergies,” I say, trying to stifle the tears with an awkward smile. The tiniest smile briefly appears on his lips.

  “Hey, Hales.” He gently brushes my tears with his thumb, and this sud
den gloom of mine evolves into something else, something deeper and different, that fully takes me by surprise. My heart twinges and these sudden new emotions that swirl in me are almost an ache. I think I’m falling for you, D.

  Leaning back, his eyes search mine, assessing my emotions. Slowly his lips turn into the warmest smile; I smile back, feeling timid for my childish outburst. He bends toward me, inclines his head, allowing his mouth to meet mine. In the instant in which our mouths unite my tongue possesses him, eager and hungry to have and to taste, to breathe him, I devour the very depth of him.

  He holds my head with both hands, resting his forehead against mine, and with closed eyes he murmurs, “You overwhelm me. You are so incredibly sweet.”

  My heart altogether quivers, trembles and rattles. And you, me, D. Entirely.

  “I am famished,” he says next, huskily, in my ear.

  “Can’t and will not let you starve,” I giggle, though I find it way too hard to release him, so I don’t.

  “Hmm, this is the part where you let go of me.” He laughs croakily, his arms still around me.

  “Can’t, sorry. Tried. No can do.” I grin, shrugging, and secure my hold of his waist firmer. Amused, he thinks for a moment, and then his right hand lets go of me and reaches for one of the plates, sliding it closer to us. With just one hand he twirls a fork through the small mound of spaghetti, skillfully rolling the long noodles around it. Seaming pleased with the result, he brings the little portion to my mouth.

  “I like you improv.” I beam at him, caressing his waist as I open my mouth for the forkful he offers.

  “Mmm, divine.”

  He stares at me with glee.

  Mmm, you are divine.

  Repeating the action, this time he brings the fork to his own mouth, then to mine again, never breaking our physical connection.

  “When was the last time you visited your family?” he asks the next time he feeds me, watching me, waiting for me to swallow.