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He studies me a moment and then nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and then he’s gone, and I’m alone in Cole’s office. This should feel strange. I’m in the office of a man who I slept with, who I feared was the father of my unborn child, who I thought was a manwhore, and now is my boss. I should be worried about my reputation and career, but Cole didn’t even tell Reese about us, who I know to be his close friend. I do not believe that Cole would do anything to hurt me, but rather the opposite. If I did, I’d be gone.
It’s nearly ten when I walk into my apartment with a slice of cheap corner pizza in a bag. I stick it in the oven, strip down to a sleep shirt, and once I have my computer open on the bed, files beside it, I grab my slice and settle in. I’ve just finished it off when my cell phone rings with an unknown number.
“Hello,” I answer cautiously.
“Lori.”
At the sound of Cole’s rich, deep voice, I set my empty plate aside. “Hi,” I say. “Did you make it to Houston?”
“I just got to my hotel room,” he says, sounding weary. “How late did you work?”
“Are you checking up on me?” I ask, feeling a bit defensive.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he says. “I trust you. Remember? I was on the internet on the plane. Reese told me. You can take your work home. You know that, right?”
I glance at the apartment, the dinginess reminding me of negativity and tears. “I liked being at the office. I liked feeling like I was back where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to do.”
“You like feeling in control again. And the moment I took that from you the night we met was the moment I ensured you’d run.”
“I didn’t run.”
“No,” he says. “You’re right. You walked away with fierce determination. Did you ever regret it?”
Yes, I think, but what I say is, “I don’t think we should talk about this.”
“Did you regret it?” he presses again, his voice low, gruff.
“Any answer I give you to that question is the wrong answer when you’re my boss.”
“Spanking you was a mistake. It made you feel like I’d always have the control you were desperately trying to get back.”
“No” I say. “It wasn’t a mistake. Cole, you gave me the escape I wanted and God, I needed. You gave me a chance to let go, for just a little while, and somehow you made me feel safe enough to do it with you when I didn’t know you. That night was the first time in a year I did anything for myself. It was, it was…perfect.”
“Until morning. Until you left.”
“You know my situation, and that morning I was working four jobs—three part-time and one full-time—with no idea when I’d go back to school. If I had stayed, you would have thought that I found out you had money and I wanted some kind of sugar daddy. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have.”
“That’s why you left?”
“Part of the reason.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that,” he says firmly. “Not with you.”
“You say that now, but I’m not in the same place I was then.”
“I’ll tell you again when I see you and make you believe it.”
“No,” I say quickly, sitting back up. “We need to talk about this now, and then set it aside.”
“Is that a rule?”
“Yes. A rule. And speaking of rules—”
“Don’t make them yet,” he warns. “Not when I promised to follow those rules and I always keep my promises. Don’t box me, or us, in yet. Not over the phone.”
“Now, on the phone is safer.”
“But not better,” he says. “We need closure that won’t give us. We need to talk, and we need to do it in person, away from the office. You know we do.”
