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During my mandatory vacation this summer I learned that I really did need to relax. I just don’t know how. Work has been my life. I love it. It’s everything to me. But my therapist reminded me again that if I want to continue working, I need to pace myself.
God, I hate it when she’s right.
The vacation she told me to go on, proved it.
I came back to work refreshed. I feel like I’ve taken a breath of fresh air. Then I check on Winslow’s progress on his job and find he’s not progressing according to schedule and it sets me off.
Alas, I am not swayed. I want to be free. I want to take more risks and learn to relax.
I’m so grateful I have Harry. If there was anyone who knows how to relax, it’s him. He’s so happy and carefree. He always comes into work with a bright smile on his face. I don’t know how a guy who works as late as I do can come to work every day feeling good.
Sometimes, I want to smack that smile off his face. Of course, human resources would have a field day on that and he really is a useful assistant, smile or not.
I decided during my vacation that I needed to do better with my Christmas gifts. Harry has helped me for years on this. My therapist reminded me that I don’t usually pay attention to it when it’s an opportunity to show how I feel about people.
I look at Harry siting at his desk, staring at his computer. I don’t know what he’s doing, but whatever it is, he’s tuned in.
He’s truly been in my corner since he’s worked here. I’ve realized that I’m not close to anyone other than him. I think he might even know me better than my parents.
Making connections has always been a challenge for me. Yeah, I have a workaholic personality but I realistically have no interest in becoming friends with anyone.
I like my solitude.
That’s why I hate holidays. Everyone gets together, hugging and kissing and giving and it irritates me to no end. I spent my childhood in Japan where Christmas was more of a thing that couples celebrated together.
And now, as a single thirty-five-year-old woman, it’s even more irritating.
Also, during my vacation, I had time to think about Harry. A lot. When I was thinking about how to repay him for all these years of being there for me, I started thinking about him as a person.
About how sweet he is. And smart. He’s great with people. On time. Works hard and is quite handsome.
That’s when my thoughts took a detour from what I think of him as his boss to what I think of him as a woman.
Harry’s dark hair paired with his deep brown eyes make him one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met. The way he smirks when I say something cheeky would drop any woman’s panties to the floor.
His attentiveness and the way he makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world…
Oh, fuck. I am so lonely.
I shook my head to shake away all those thoughts and feelings. He’s my employee. My trusted assistant. I can’t be all over him. That’s inappropriate.
But I can’t help the what if’s. The possibilities. Like what if, instead of working for me, he was working for someone else, or running his own firm?
I wonder if he’d even like me that way. I’ve seen him look at me with puppy love when I smile. But he’s a people person. A flirt. He can’t possibly hold some sort of intimate affection toward me.
Can he?
Not knowing bugs me. But asking would be a terrible idea.
My thoughts are cut short by Harry shutting off his computer, standing with his jacket and grabbing his bag.
I start walking, and I meet him at the elevator.
“Late night.” I say and push the button.
“Yeah. I see that I worked later than you did,” he says, turning his head to me with a smirk on his face.
I bite my lip and start putting my coat on.
