16
EMILIA
two weeks later
I’ve gotten back to my regular workflow, and I was feeling much better. Physically, but especially mentally. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. Clear-headed, calm, and capable of handling every situation Dean and I were put in together.
The tension between us had settled into something manageable. Still a little cold on my side, but polite. He kept his distance just like I asked, never lingering too long. He kept things professional, and I appreciated that. Still, there were…moments.
Moments where I caught him watching me when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
Moments when he looked like he had something to say, and I pretended not to notice.
Today, we had a meeting with the clients and their legal team. Some settlement negotiation that had gotten messy over the past few months. Dean and I walked into the conference room together, and while there were enough chairs to choose from, I decided that this morning, I would sit next to him again.
I had taken a seat on the other side of the table the past weeks. Further away from him, but close enough to still take all the notes I needed to.
We sat down, and Dean gave me a quick look. One that told me he was surprised. I didn’t let him read too much into it. Truth was, with him next to me, it was easier to take notes and quickly discuss them with him during the meeting. It would only be double the work to look over them again before finally sending them to Dean.
I set up my laptop, notebook, and pen, placing them all neatly on the table while the others all filled the rest of the chairs around the table.
“This will be a long one,”
Dean told me quietly, leaning in closer for only me to hear.
“I have all day,”
I replied teasingly. It wasn’t my intention to make him laugh, but he did.
Loudly.
Some of the men looked toward us, and Dean muffled his laugh by placing his fist in front of his mouth. Then he cleared his throat, and his expression went back to normal. Serious, with a small frown between his brows.
Halfway through the meeting, while one of the partners went on about numbers and liabilities, Dean leaned in slightly toward me and pointed to a line in the printed agreement in front of us. His shoulder brushed mine. Not on purpose, but he didn’t move away either.
I felt the warmth of him there and my body tensed before I caught myself and leaned slightly to the other side, focusing on the document. “I already noted that,”
I murmured, not looking at him.
“Of course you did.”
His words were quiet, but there was something else beneath it. Admiration, maybe. Or regret, for not being able to fully show it.
When the meeting ended, we both stood. As we moved toward the door, I accidentally dropped my pen, and Dean was quick to bend down and grab it. He held it to me with a smile, and I took it from his hand, with my fingers brushing his. He didn’t let go of the pen right away, and I didn’t move my hand either.
My eyes met his, and for a brief, unguarded moment, we were just standing there, frozen in the middle of a crowd of exiting attorneys and murmuring clients, like none of it touched us.
Then I gently pulled the pen from his grip, and the moment passed.
“Thanks,”
I said, turning toward the door before that small moment settled too deep into my chest.
By noon, I was in desperate need of food and caffeine. I slipped away to the break room, hoping for a few minutes to myself.
I put my leftovers from last night in the microwave and poured myself a cup of coffee, and as I waited for my food to warm up, the door behind me opened. It was Dean. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know. I still had that instinct when it came to him, and I could guess his presence in any room we were in. Maybe it was his ridiculously captivating perfume, or it was simply the invisible string still pulling me toward him. Even after hurting me deeply.
“Lunch?”
he asked, and I finally turned my head to look at him.
I gave him a nod and a small smile. “The meeting made me hungry. And tired.”
He pursed his lips and stepped closer, casual but not careless. “Yeah, me too. But I only have time for a small snack.”
I watched as he walked over to the fridge where he took out a sandwich. It wasn’t homemade, and I recognized the brown wrapping paper with the logo on it. It was from a nearby bakery, which I knew he often went to.
The microwave beeped, and I pulled out the Tupperware container to let it cool for a little while before I dug in.
“What do you have there? Smells amazing.”
I turned back around, not minding this small talk. “A half-eaten burrito and two flautas.”
“Did you make it?”
“No, it’s leftovers from last night’s takeout. I always order more than I can eat so I can bring the rest to work and—”
I stopped, reminding myself that, deep down, I was still mad at him. Any normal person would’ve let it all go immediately. But I was resentful, and I knew it was something I still had to work on.
Dean looked at me with expectation in his gaze, waiting for me to continue. But I didn’t. I simply kept my mouth shut and grabbed my food to sit down at the table and start eating.
He kept standing there, with his sandwich in hand, and his eyes on the side of my face. Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I imagined.
“I meant to tell you,”
he said after a moment. “You were great today. Sharp. Focused. Like always. And your notes were helpful.”
My eyes darted to him. The more he talked to me, the more sincere he seemed. Like he truly thought about the words we said to each other back at my apartment. Like he truly was on his way to become a better man.
“Thanks.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “And thank you for sitting next to me again.”
That made me tense. “It’s more practical.”
His mouth tilted up in a half-smile. “I’ll take practical.”
I looked back at my food and poked at it with my fork, still letting it cool down. Dean stepped closer to the table and reached out to grab a napkin. His arm brushed my shoulder, and it wasn’t an accident this time. He wanted to touch me, and to not scare me, he did it gently. Almost like he was quietly asking to get close to me again.
I didn’t move, and when he pulled back, he stood close to me, making the little hairs on my neck stand up.
“I like this,”
he said softly.
I swallowed hard. “This?”
“This…us. Talking. Not being…strangers.”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Not yet.
He stood there for a while longer, letting our conversation linger in the air between us before he placed one hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “Enjoy your lunch break.”
“Thank you.”
My words came out breathy and way more unstable than I wanted them to. He had noticed and let out a soft chuckle, pleased with the moment we had.
Once he left the room, I finally was able to breathe again. And while my pulse picked up speed, I finally started eating my food.
***
The next morning, I was talking to Leann by the front desk when Dean came out of his office, coming toward us like he was on a mission.
He stopped next to me, placing one hand on my lower back, and looking at Leann with raised brows. “Can you give us a second, please?”
She looked between us, and I shrugged when her expression turned confused. “Of course.”
“Thanks. Emilia, would you please come to my office?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t have the chance to question him before he led me to his door, guiding me inside. He closed the door behind us, then I turned around to look at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
He had looked stressed when he came out, but now he looked at ease. Pleased, even. “I just have something to ask you.”
“Okay,”
I said slowly, watching him closely to figure out where this conversation was going. “You’re kinda scaring me.”
Dean chuckled and waved a hand. “It’s really nothing. If anything, I have to be scared of your answer. Because I got real high hopes here.”
Now I was confused.
“Shoot,”
I urged, needing him to just ask whatever he needed to ask.
“Alright, so…”
He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. “One of our clients, Dr. Hofstetter, invited me to dinner. The restaurant is close by, just in the city, and the invitation was for two.”
He stopped, giving me the time to reflect on his words before he had to ask the actual question. He was hoping I would understand where he was going with this, but deep down I wasn’t so sure he actually wanted me to go with him.
“So…I figured, since you were following Dr. Hofstetter’s case since the beginning and have been a big part of it by always keeping everything on track, I was wondering if you wanted to come to that dinner with me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure how to reply. “As your…assistant?”
“As my date.”
His words came out without even a hint of hesitation. “I know you wanted space, and I’ve been giving it to you. I will continue to give you space if that’s what you need, but…” He took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “Truth is, I can’t keep what I feel for you hidden inside. And you can start hating me again, or ignore me completely, but I just had to ask. I can take a no. I can accept it. I simply have to know.”
I opened my mouth, but not to speak. I was at loss for words, and while his words sounded genuine and hopeful, I couldn’t answer him right away.
“That’s uh…”
He laughed, rubbing his neck. “Not the reaction I was expecting. I thought it would go either one of two ways. Well, I expected you to make a face and say no.”
“I…”
My feelings were all over the place. I could’ve told him no right away like he had expected it, but my heart stopped me. My mind was shouting at me to say no over and over again, but the louder my heartbeat got, the quieter my mind got.
Or was it the other way around?
God…why was this so hard?
I pressed my lips into a tight line, and before the walls around me closed in on me, I said…
Option 1
“No.”
(go to chapter 17)
Option 2
“Yes.”
(go to chapter 19)