Page 52 of Lying to the Boss

Lane

Tage walks into the office with a smile on his face that I’ve never seen before. He looks entirely content, like everything in his life is good. Maybe my head gets a little bigger knowing it’s all because of me. He gets settled at his desk, then knocks on my open door with the iPad in hand.

“I had to get my own coffee this morning,” I complain, but give him a look so he knows I’m just giving him a hard time.

“How ever will you recover?” he asks as he steps inside.

“If that’s your way of telling me you want to role-play nurse and patient, I am here for it.”

He laughs, then takes a seat across from me and unlocks the iPad.

“Is that a no?” I push.

His gaze flicks up to me. “Never done the role-playing thing before.”

“So, it’s not a no?” I ask cautiously.

Smiling, he says, “It’s not a no.”

“Come to my place after work,” I say.

He rolls his eyes, but this time it’s more playful than annoyed. He taps away on the iPad, the same way he always does in the mornings.

“Will you come to my place after work?” I rephrase it as a question, hoping this is the hold-up on why he hasn’t said yes.

Tage places the iPad on his lap and looks at me intently.

“I don’t want to rush things.”

“How is coming over rushing things?” I ask.

“I just spent the night.”

“And? You know how many nights there are in a lifetime? What’s one more?”

“You have an answer for everything.”

“I didn’t get here on my good looks alone.”

“The charisma is a problem,” he mutters under his breath, going back to the iPad. When he looks up at me again, he has his work-face on. “It’s a pretty easy day. Just an internal meeting with accounting after lunch.”

“If you don’t want to come to my place, you can just say no. It’ll get you a lot farther than being vague.”

Sighing, he puts the iPad on his lap again. “It’s not that I don’t want to go to your place, Lane, it’s just that I don’t want to rush into things. So, I can’t just say no, because that’s not the answer.”

“I don’t know what you mean. If you want to do it, then do it.”

Why is that so hard? He wants something. He’s able to do the something he wants. So why isn’t he allowing himself to do it?

“There are a lot of things I want to do, and doing this could affect the other things I want.”

“Like what?”

“Like making a life for myself. Not having things handed to me. Why do I feel like we keep having these same conversations?”

“What does that have to do with you coming over?” I question. “I’m truly confused here, Tage. Help me understand.”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think I don’t trust myself.”