Chapter 12
ANSON
“No problem,” I mumbled, staring down at my shoes. The comfortable sneakers were scuffed in a number of places, and I began to count the ones I could see. It was as good a thing as any to focus on so I didn’t go back to staring at Benji.
We’d worked together every day, minus Sundays because Beck insisted I take a day off, eating lunch in my office before heading down to the lab. Some nights we’d take a dinner break, ordering from a local place, and others we’d work right though until Beck popped his head in.
Almost three weeks of Benji hovering over my shoulder as I typed or of us leaning in, our heads tilted until they almost touched so we could share his laptop. Once, I’d even reached around him from behind to help him loosen a screw on a part we’d decided we hadn’t gotten quite right.
I’d asked Erin to finalize Benji’s paperwork early. He would receive his first paycheck Friday even though his official start date wasn’t supposed to be until the following Monday. I hadn’t bothered to mention that to him, assuming he would fight me on it.
Benji was excited by our work, as excited as I was, and I had to remind myself of that every single day as my stomach started to growl for lunch, a thing I had never really noticed before, and Benji would show up in my office, the security team and Ross having been informed that Benji was to have full access.
That Benji was excited by our work and by New Day Tech and maybe by his proximity to my fame, not by me, was something I tried hard to remember on a daily basis.
That final day before Benji’s dad arrived, I kept telling myself, over and over again, that Benji was only there for work even as he was feeding me French fries and leaning in like he wanted to nuzzle me.
I’d imagined that before and had foolishly made sure to apply a drop of cologne behind my right ear, the side he always stood by in the office.
I definitely had to remind myself that he was my twenty-six-year-old employee when the brain that I always relied on to think logically thought it heard him call me “baby” as he fed me.
When he’d repeated the word “sorry” upon entering the elevator, I knew better than to tack the baby on again in my head.
He’d been held up talking to Ross.
Ross, my young, handsome assistant. A man with whom Benji could reasonably form an attachment.
I raised my head but continued to avoid Benji’s gaze, which left me staring at my own reflection in the metal of the elevator door. Long strands had fallen out of my ponytail, so I focused on fixing it as the elevator took us to the basement of the building.
I pulled the band from around my hair and gave my head a small shake, massaging the area where the band sat, my scalp happy for the reprieve.
Benji let out a small gasp. My eyes turned to his immediately in concern, only for him to angle his head down to his own feet.
You’re bad with cues, I reminded myself.
It’s just your imagination. There was no way that look he’d given me before he’d averted his eyes had held heat.
No way. I absently wrapped the hair band around my wrist and turned back to my reflection, running my fingers through my hair again, and again I heard the soft sound.
Benji was okay, I’d established that the first time, so I wasn’t worried when I turned to face him again.
The elevator dinged, and the door opened outside the lab.
Only instead of exiting, I stood in the opening, blocking Benji’s path. He looked up at me, and I wanted to believe I knew what his eyes were saying, that I understood the heat forming between the two of us, that I was sure he felt it too.
I didn’t move, and neither did he. A strand of my hair, however, didn’t get the memo and fluttered in front of my face.
My hand automatically moved to brush it aside, but Benji’s hand beat me to it.
I froze, my hand halfway to my face as his fingers slowly ran along my forehead, just like they’d done when we were at the Commons, until the errant strand was tucked neatly behind my right ear.
He pressed his finger right to the spot where I carefully applied a drop of fragrance each morning while thinking about him, and the sound that left my mouth echoed one he had made moments earlier.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” he said, his voice all breathy wonderment.
I tried to process why. Why would he caress my face, why would he sound breathless, why would he look at me like he wanted to drown in my eyes?
He had just been chatting up my assistant. He should be chatting up my assistant.
“I never bother to get it cut,” I replied.
It was my automatic answer whenever the topic of my hair came up.
“Beck and Ross have scheduled barbers on more than one occasion, but they know better than to pull me away from my work for such a frivolous appointment. I think Ross had scheduled one to come here the day I met you.”
We dropped our hands at the same time as if we’d both just realized they were raised.
Those chocolate eyes felt like they were piercing through me, like they could see my soul. They dropped to the floor again, and the loss of both his physical touch and eye contact felt like a blow to the stomach. That’s probably just the greasy food, my all-too-logical brain provided.
“It looks good on you.” His tone managed to be soft and heavy at the same time. It was a tone that sent chills from my head down to the toes that Benji was staring at.
My thank you was as wispy as his words had been, and it was a sound that was foreign to my own ears.
It had to be my imagination. My imagination was always running, but it had never run so wild relative to fanciful things.
My imagination thought detailed, technical thoughts.
It built supercomputers, software, and lifesaving robots.
It didn’t think about men calling me baby, or liking my hair and my scent, and it sure as shit didn’t conjure up men whose thoughts were so similar to mine that we’d advanced my project ahead of schedule by weeks or even months.
It didn’t send me someone who would care whether or not I ate lunch and agree with Beck that we should cut our day off early enough to allow for a healthy sleep.
It had never sent me someone who would feed me French fries so I could keep up the momentum I was riding.
I had to see his expression. I had to know. My hand traveled slowly to his face. His subtle movement let me know he saw it, the subtler nod of his head let me know it was welcome. I let one finger rest on his jawline as I gently encouraged him to look up.
I was fairly sure what I was seeing was a mixture of fire and stress.
“Benji?” I cupped my hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it before pulling away.
He walked forward, and for the briefest moment, I thought he was walking into my arms, but he passed by me instead, brushing past until I stepped aside.
I turned and followed him. He came to a halt in front of the desk in the corner of the room that we had shared for the last three weeks.
When we were facing each other again, any feelings I thought I’d seen were wiped away.
Or maybe they’d never been there. Was I failing at reading cues again?
The thing was, I didn’t think I was bad at reading Benji’s cues.
It was one of the things, one of the many remarkable things, about the partnership we had forged.
“This project is going to work, Anson.”
“I know it is, Benji. And thanks to you, we're way ahead of schedule. We work so well together.” I was merely stating an obvious fact, yet my voice sounded desperate to my own ears.
“I really want to work here.” His voice appeared to hold an equal desperation, but his comment confused me.
I could hear the unspoken word but tacked on to the end of his sentence, and I didn’t understand why.
Was he asking for more money? I thought I understood Benji and his motives; could it be that he was just like everyone else?
He wouldn’t be the first young man to butter me up due to my wealth, but he would be the first one that upset me by doing it.
Beck had warned me to be careful, after all.
The thing was, even if Benji had ulterior motives, I didn’t care.
I wanted him to work for New Day Tech because of his brilliance, and I wished for him to work with me because of how well we worked together.
But I needed him to work for the company so I could be near him even if all he wanted was a job.
“You do work here!” I assured him. “I actually had Erin move your start date. You can expect a paycheck on Friday.” I couldn’t keep the desperation out of my tone.
“I should have told you, Benji! I guess I thought if I kept it a surprise, it would be like a graduation gift.”
My arms were outstretched in desperation, and I couldn’t bear the strained look in his eye. I turned and faced the center of the room, where a 3D printer was working to fabricate the component we had finalized the night before.
“Please understand, I never wanted to take advantage of you, having you start before graduation. Only, you seemed like …” I dropped my hands on the counter next to the printer, my head hung forward, my loose hair falling over my shoulders.
“I thought you wanted to be here. I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you to be here over the past few weeks.
I thought paying you would resolve any issues with my taking up so much of your time. ”
I held my position, listening for a response or any movement from Benji. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I felt his eyes on me. You’re just imagining his eyes on you, my brain helpfully reminded me. My hair tickled my chin, which I generally hated, but I didn’t move, and neither did he.