You Matter

by Jazzy Mitchell

  Chrissy can see Mr. Hogan pacing back and forth, his face red and eyes wild. Reggie remains in her seat, her eyes trained on him, while she keeps talking. He returns to his seat and sits forward, elbows on his knees and hands bracketing his head. When Reggie finishes talking, he sits up and shakes his head before rising once more. “Let me think about it,” he says as he leaves the office.

  Quick to look busy, Chrissy says as he passes, “Have a good night, Mr. Hogan.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” he mutters, turning into the hallway and stamping away.

  “He’s kind of scary,” Ben whispers.

  “He’s upset.” Reggie’s leaning against her doorframe, arms crossed and shoulders rounded. She looks like she’s hugging herself. She straightens up a moment later and glances at her watch. “You two need a ride home?”

  Chrissy’s conflicted. They were planning on stopping for pizza, and she wants to invite Reggie, but they’re going to spend time with her tomorrow. She fears that might be too much time together. Or maybe I’m the one who’s afraid. Every time we spend time outside of work, I find something more to like about her.

  “We’re stopping somewhere to eat,” Ben says. Chrissy doesn’t know whether to thank him or punish him for answering before she does. “We can be persuaded to go to Gino’s again,” he says with a smile. “Or wherever.”

  When Reggie’s eyes find Chrissy, she raises her eyebrows, and Chrissy’s not sure what to say. She settles with smiling and tilting her head.

  “I wish I could. I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m having dinner with my mother and sisters.”

  “How many sisters do you have?” Ben asks while stuffing his homework in his backpack.

  “Two. Any time you want to feel what it’s like to have siblings, you can borrow them. They think they know much better than I do how I should live my life.”

  Ben chuckles. “Sounds like extra parents to me.”

  “For that, you don’t get any dessert tonight.” Chrissy smiles at Ben’s groan. She pulls on her coat and turns to Reggie. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ll take the T. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes.” Reggie straightens up. “I’ll pick you up at two. Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  ***

  A knock on her door the next day has Chrissy stopping mid-step. Her eyes fly to the microwave clock, and she swears under her breath.

  “I heard that,” Ben says. “It must be Reggie.”

  Chrissy sighs. She took too much time fretting over what to wear before settling on a red Boston University sweatshirt, dark blue jeans, and black loafers.

  “You look good, Mom.”

  “Thanks, kid.” Chrissy opens the door and stares. The woman is gorgeous in casual wear. The way those jeans hug her curves is a sin. And her blouse does nothing to hide the shape of breasts. Noticing Reggie’s expectant look, Chrissy moves aside. “Hi, Reggie. You didn’t have to come up to get us.”

  “I lucked out with a parking spot in front.” Reggie enters, eyes sweeping around the apartment with interest.

  “That is lucky. Maybe you should play the lottery. Come in for a sec.” Chrissy takes a few moments while closing the door to regain her equilibrium. She inhales a deep breath before turning away from the door.

  “So, this is our kitchen. In here’s the living room,” Chrissy hears Ben say while walking toward the back of the apartment. “My room’s here.” He opens the door and stands aside while Reggie steps in. Chrissy hurries into her room, taking a quick look around to make sure nothing too personal is visible. She picks up her jacket and purse and turns to them when they reach her room.

  “This is my room.” Chrissy steps aside, ducking her head. She watches Reggie walk over to the windows and look out before making a slow tour of the room.

  “It feels like you.” Reggie gazes at her with a soft smile.

  “How so?”

  “It’s calm.” Reggie waves her hand around. “Everything has its place. Not many trinkets or keepsakes, so what you do have must be important to you.” Reggie stalls before the dresser and hums when she picks up a few pictures resting on top of it. They’re from the Harborfest.

  Remembering who’s in them, Chrissy nibbles on her lower lip, shifting from foot to foot.

  “These are great pictures.”

  “Cathy took them. She gave me copies last week. I was going to frame them.” Chrissy stops, realizing what she’s admitted. Three pictures, one with Chrissy and Ben, another with Chrissy and Reggie, and the third of the three of them. The one of Chrissy and Reggie makes her breathless each time she sees it. They’re leaning against the railing, and with the way the sun hits them, you can’t see their expressions. Their bodies are turned toward each other, heads close together while they talk.

  “I’ll have to ask her for copies.” Reggie’s staring at the picture of the two of them, and Chrissy’s nerves begin to settle. Once Reggie places them back on her dresser, she smiles. “Sorry for being so nosey.”

  Knowing she would love to explore Reggie’s home if given the chance, Chrissy lets go of her reticence. “It’s okay. Ready to go?”

  “Oh, yes. After last night, I could use good wine and good friends.”

  “Well, that sounds ominous.” Chrissy chuckles. She locks up the apartment before following Ben and Reggie downstairs to the car. Ben fills up the twenty-minute drive talking about junior varsity. He’s excited to be on the team, and he promises to give Reggie a copy of his game schedule. They reach Cathy and David’s home in Cambridge by driving over the Mass. Ave. Bridge and a few blocks east of Harvard Yard. Their home is on a quiet side street.

  Reggie parks in front of a two-story brick façade. David comes outside and hands Reggie a parking permit to place in her windshield. He’s wearing tan khakis and a blue cable-knit sweater. They follow him up a few concrete steps and through double wooden doors into a hall. To the right is a welcoming parlor. The crème-colored walls, detailed white moldings, and pine hardwood floors create an airy quality. Chrissy steps into the room to study the detailed Victorian marble mantelpiece. The craftsmanship is breathtaking. To either side are built-in shelves, stuffed with books and knickknacks. To the right are three bay windows looking out onto the street.

  “Let me give you the five-cent tour.” David smiles.

  Nodding, Chrissy follows along, taking note of how comfortable their home feels. The dining room has the typical square wooden table and chairs situated on a light-colored area rug, but this room also has a fireplace with different-sized white candles arranged in it instead of wood. The room flows into the kitchen, where Cathy stands cutting some vegetables behind the kitchen’s center-island. She looks like the perfect mom with the pink, flowery apron on over a long-sleeved red cotton shirt and jeans. Chrissy can’t help but wonder why they never had children. Cathy’s talking to Todd, her eyes shining with laughter.

  “Todd, I want you to meet our friends. This is Reggie and Chrissy. They both work at the firm. And this is Chrissy’s son, Ben.” Todd’s a few inches shorter than Ben with short blond hair and light green eyes. He has an easy smile, and Chrissy likes him immediately.

  Todd smiles at everyone before turning to Ben. “Hi. Do you want to go downstairs? I have some cool games we can play on my tablet.” Chrissy nods when Ben looks at her for permission, watching them scamper away, already talking about the various superheroes they like. Chrissy and Reggie settle at the dining room table, glasses of wine and plates of snacks littering the rectangular spruce wood. David leans back against the island, a glass of wine in his hand.

  “The latest gossip is how you dumped Ashford,” David says, a gleam in his eye.

  Cathy stops cutting a cucumber and looks up with a saddened expression. “Aw, I thought he would be perfect for you.”

  Reggie scowls, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “That’s why I’m never listening to you again when it comes to my love life.”

  Chrissy takes a long sip of h
er wine, doing her best to seem politely interested instead of starved for information regarding Reggie’s romantic life. David refills her glass, winking at her.

  “Well, there are plenty of other fish in the sea—”

  “No, thank you,” Reggie interrupts Cathy. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

  “But, Reggie, I know the perfect person—”

  “I’m sure you do, but I can choose who I’m interested in, thank you very much.”

  “Sounds like you have someone in mind,” David chimes in.

  Chrissy studies Reggie, noticing the blush kissing her cheeks. A wave of jealousy rips through her, and the sweet wine tastes sour in her mouth. She wonders whether she’s been imagining the subtle flirtations they’ve shared over the last few months. Perhaps it was all wishful thinking. She crosses her legs and plays with the stem of her wine glass, eyes focused on it.

  “I assure you that you’ll be the last to know. God, you’re worse than my mother and sisters, and that’s saying something.”

  “That bad?” Cathy frowns.

  Reggie sighs. “They mean well. I think. They want me to be happy and settle down and have a family.” She waves her hand. “I keep telling them when the timing’s right, it will happen.”

  “Or you might not recognize the love of your life sitting in front of you and need your friends to help you,” Cathy says.

  From the way Reggie rolls her eyes and her face darkens, Chrissy gets the feeling they’ve had this conversation many times. How long have they been friends?

  David grins. “I don’t know, Cathy. Remember when you fixed her up with Timmy?”

  Chrissy can’t help but chuckle with the others when Reggie lets out an exaggerated groan. When she chances a look at Reggie, she looks like she’s in pain. “That bad?” She grins when Reggie drops her head in her hands.

  Cathy keeps cutting the vegetables, glancing up. “How was I supposed to know he really wanted a meeting with your father, and the fact you have to reach back that far, David, proves most of the men I’ve paired Reggie with weren’t that bad.”

  “Women, too,” David says with a sly smile. Chrissy tucks away that important piece of information to think about later while ignoring the sliver of ice that winds its way down her spine.

  “Oh, right. How could I forget? There’s a woman I see at the gym I bet you’d like.”

  Another bolt of jealousy jolts Chrissy, and her hands begin to tremble. She stands up, her sudden action stopping Reggie from uttering a retort. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  “I’ll show you,” David says, a guilty look in his eyes. Chrissy turns to follow, not willing to listen to any more of Cathy’s attempts to play matchmaker. With her feelings growing each day, Chrissy can’t stomach the thought of Reggie dating anyone beside herself.

  “Cathy means well.” David’s voice lowers as they walk down a hallway toward the back of the house.

  “How long have you both been friends with Reggie?”

  “I went to law school with her. Cathy met her through one of the annual firm events, and when she came onboard a few years later, it was natural for all of us to spend more time together. Anyway, here we are.” He squeezes her shoulder. “Reggie’s a good person, and I’ve seen the way she acts around you. Be patient. You’re special, and she knows it.”

  Feeling her face heat up, Chrissy mutters, “That’s nice of you to say, but she’s my boss.”

  “True.” He leans in. “But that doesn’t always have to be the case. It’s a large law firm. Lots of opportunities to transfer into another division.” With a bright smile he walks down the hall, whistling.

  Closing the bathroom door, Chrissy sits on the lip of the marble tub, taking some deep breaths. “This is ridiculous. How could I ever believe she’s interested in me? This is probably why she was always so professional with me in the past. She must have picked up my interest and not wanted to encourage me.” Chrissy rubs her forehead. “I need to get a grip.”

  A knock on the door makes Chrissy gasp. She wonders whether anyone heard her talking to herself. Ben is constantly teasing her about her penchant for talking things out. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Take your time. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right,” Reggie says.

  Chrissy stands up and moves to the sink, staring at herself in the mirror, eyes wide. Well, shit. How long was I gone?

  “Christina? Can I come in?”

  “Um, yeah. Sure,” Chrissy squeaks out. Reggie enters and shuts the door behind her. “Sorry. Now you know why I’m so bad at making friends. I find I need time to myself to process things.”

  Reggie leans against the tub and crosses her legs at the ankle. “I was afraid all that boring talk about my love life ran you off.”

  “What? No. No, no, no. That’s…well, you’ve obviously been friends with them for a long time. I can understand if they made you feel uncomfortable talking about that in front of me, though. I mean, you’re my boss, and I’m sure you don’t want me hearing about your private life like that.”

  Reggie gives a slow nod. “Normally, that would be true. I am a private person. I was hoping, however, that we’ve gone beyond the boundary of boss and employee.”

  “I think we have, and I’m happy about that. I like spending time with you, and so does Ben.” Chrissy leans back against the sink, crossing her arms. “I guess I’m not really sure how to navigate this.”

  “You seemed to become uncomfortable when David mentioned I’ve dated women in the past. Does that bother you?”

  Chrissy’s mouth becomes dry, afraid Reggie has guessed her feelings. About to deny caring about her preferences, Chrissy stops when she sees the vulnerable look in Reggie’s eyes. Chrissy joins her at the tub, her hip kissing Reggie’s side. She takes a deep breath. “Would it bother you to know I prefer dating women?”

  A relieved smile overtakes Reggie’s face. “No.”

  “Good, because that’s my answer, too.”

  “Right.” Reggie slaps her hands on her thighs before straightening up. “We should probably get back before they send out a search party.”

  “And here I thought you were the search party.” Chrissy follows Reggie to the door, stopping short when Reggie turns around. Chrissy gasps, their noses nearly touching. She steps back.

  Reggie chuckles. “Sorry. I just, I hope you know I enjoy spending time with you and Ben. If you ever feel uncomfortable around me for any reason, will you promise to talk to me about it? Please?”

  “Yes. Of course. Same here. I like where our relationship is going, but it’s scary for me. I don’t trust a lot of people.”

  “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t regret it.” Reggie runs her hand down Chrissy’s arm before turning and opening the door.

  Chrissy follows the hypnotic sway of Reggie’s hips and vows to do the same.

  Chapter Six

  Chrissy steps out of the elevator and shivers. It’s a wicked, cold day, well below freezing, and she needed to take care of some errands during her lunch hour. She places her takeout food on her desk and unwraps her threadbare, useless scarf from around her neck. Peering in Reggie’s office, she sees her on the phone and waves to let her know she’s back. Shucking her black winter leather coat, which also serves as her spring and autumn coat, Chrissy pulls off her black knit beanie with the Bruins logo on it, patting down her unruly curls. Once her outerwear is stashed in the closet, Chrissy settles at her desk to eat.

  Tomorrow is Halloween, and Chrissy is trying to decide whether to go to David and Cathy’s costume party. Ben will be spending the night at Leroy’s house, so she has no reason not to go other than good old nerves. They’ve assured her she’ll love their friends and enticed her with the promise of Reggie attending.

  Sensing movement, Chrissy turns in her chair to greet Reggie. “Do you need anything, Reggie?”

  “Yes. How are you doing on the Bartlett Answers to Interrogatories?” Reggie leans against the filing cabinet, a slight smile on
her face. Since they went to the Freedmans’ house six weeks ago, they’ve eased into a comfortable camaraderie, and Reggie is more relaxed around her.

  “Nearly done. I should be able to get the draft to you today.” Chrissy wakes up her computer screen by shaking the mouse before she logs on. She pulls up the requested document. “I only have five more to answer.” Reggie moves closer to look, her breath caressing Chrissy’s cheek.

  “Great. Thank you,” Reggie murmurs, her lips brushing Chrissy’s ear.

  Biting down on a gasp, Chrissy barely stops herself from turning so their lips can meet. Gentle fingers glide through her hair, and Reggie straightens.

  “Your hair has static electricity.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” She loves the shy look overtaking Reggie’s face, at odds with her usual confident demeanor.

  “Are you going over to David and Cathy’s tomorrow night?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” The understatement of the year. She has two costumes to choose from, and the decision of which one she’ll wear hinges on whether Reggie will be there. “You?”

  “I’ll be there. Cathy will never let me live it down if I dare miss it. Want a ride there?”

  Chrissy’s eyebrows rise. “That sounds great. What time are you planning to go?”

  “Around seven.” Reggie pauses and lifts her chin, eyes searching Chrissy’s. “Would you like to have dinner beforehand? We can go back to Gino’s or somewhere else if you prefer.”

  Is this a date? Is she asking me out? Even if she isn’t, her answer’s the same. “I’ve been dying to go back to Gino’s.” Chrissy’s wide smile is mirrored by Reggie’s.

  “I’ll pick you up at five, and we can change at your house before going to the party, unless you want to wear your costume to dinner?” Chrissy chuckles at the gentle teasing and shakes her head. Reggie shrugs. “I didn’t think so.”

  “What’s your costume?”

  “You’ll have to wait to find out.” Reggie smirks.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Chrissy leaves Post-it notes on Reggie’s desk with outrageous guesses of her Halloween costume. The theme is Broadway musical characters. Not having any real reason to disturb her, Chrissy’s excuses for entering Reggie’s space are equally outrageous. By the end of the day, Reggie doesn’t even try to hold back her smug look each time Chrissy approaches her.