11. Nathan
The next few days are long. Really long.
After picking up a burner phone from town, I call my security team each day. They have nothing yet for me, though, and I’m left to just sit on my hands.
It’s something I haven’t done in my whole life. Even as a kid, I always stayed busy. I was competitive, ambitious, always looking to do and be more.
Having Maria by my side is nice, but also painful. She’s so sweet and stoic. So beautiful.
More than once, the kind of thoughts a man shouldn’t have about his assistant cross my mind. Each time I have to tamp them down. Maria is off limits, and I need to keep that in mind, even if that means reminding myself of it every five minutes.
Three nights into hiding out, a storm rolls in. Rain pelts the tiny cabin, and violent gusts of wind shake its very foundation. I glance over at Maria, who is standing by the window, her eyes wide with concern.
“You okay?” I ask.
She turns to face me, her expression softening. “Yes, I’m fine.”
But I can tell she’s not being entirely truthful. “Storms aren’t your thing, huh?”
She looks down, and that’s my answer: she’s afraid of them.
“Hey.” I step a little closer to her. “There’s no shame in being freaked out by storms. They’re big, powerful things.”
She takes a deep breath, her resolve to hide her fear cracking for a moment. “I know you’re right, but it’s still scary.”
I reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension in her muscles slowly ease under my touch.
As the storm intensifies, I can sense a shift in the air between us. The crackling tension is no longer solely fueled by fear, but now tinged with an undeniable attraction that lingers in the space between our bodies.
The cabin seems smaller, the confines of our hiding place closing in on us, as if urging us to acknowledge the growing chemistry between us. But I resist and step away. I know better than to act on this attraction.
“Is there anything we can do to protect the cabin?” Maria wraps her arms around herself as if bracing for the impact of each thunderclap.
There’s something wistful in her voice, and it makes me wonder if this old house means more to her than she’s let on.
“Let’s make sure all the shutters are closed.” I have to raise my voice; it’s barely audible over the howling wind.
We split up, quickly securing the shutters on each window. As I latch the last one, I hear Maria’s sharp intake of breath.
“Watch out!” she exclaims, pointing out the window to a large branch hurtling towards us.
I react instinctively, grabbing her arm and yanking her back into the safety of the cabin just as the branch crashes against the exterior.
“Are you okay?” My heart pounds rapidly, and my hands shake. The branch probably didn’t do any damage to the exterior of the cabin, but if it had hit the window, she could have been seriously hurt.
“Y–yes, thanks to you,” she stutters, her face pale but her eyes shining with gratitude.
The near miss leaves me shaken. The thought of her being hurt — or worse — is unbearable. My instincts scream at me to wrap her in my arms and shield her from any further harm. But I can’t forget that she’s my employee, making such an embrace entirely inappropriate.
“Let’s check the car,” I say instead. “We don’t want anything falling on it.”
We step outside, huddling together against the fury of the storm. It’s impossible not to notice how close her body is to mine, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold her tight.
“Looks like the car will be fine,” Maria says. “There’s nothing above it that could cause any damage.”
“Good.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady. “Let’s get back inside before we’re both soaked to the bone.”
As we head back into the cabin, I can’t help but replay the moment when I pulled her away from danger. It makes me feel alive, connected to her in a way that I never thought possible. But it also terrifies me — because as much as I want to protect her and keep her safe, I know it’s not my place.
Right now, we’re watching each other’s backs, doing whatever we need to do to stay alive. Soon enough, though, we’ll be back in the real world.
The wind howls, rattling the windows, as the storm outside grows even more fierce. A sudden crash of thunder startles us, and Maria shrieks. The lights flicker once… twice… then the power goes out, plunging the cabin into darkness.
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching out instinctively to find her in the dark.
“Fine. Just a little startled.” Her voice betrays a hint of nerves.
“Let’s light some candles.” Aside from helping us see, maybe that will help maintain an air of calm.
It’s not like me to be nervous about storms or the power going out, but this case is different. Being in the dark makes me feel raw and vulnerable, like I won’t be able to spot the men who are hunting us if they do show up. And I suspect Maria is of the same mind.
Together, we fumble through drawers and cabinets, finally locating a box of matches and a handful of candles. As we work together, lighting them one by one, the flickering glow casts warm, dancing shadows on the walls, transforming the once sterile cabin into something almost magical.
“Let’s sit by the fire.” I guide her towards the fireplace, where the flames are still strong enough to keep us warm. We settle shoulder to shoulder on the soft rug, close enough to feel the warmth of the fire and each other’s bodies.
“How are you holding up?” I turn to face her. “Aside from the fact that we’re hiding out.” My jaw tightens. I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself for putting her in such danger.
“I’m okay. What about you?”
I sigh. “Frustrated. Mad at myself for letting all of this happen.”
She looks at me, surprise in her eyes. “This isn’t your fault.”
I shrug, not wanting to go into it. No, I didn’t see this threat coming, but maybe I could have, if I’d paid better attention.
Maria’s voice, soft and kind, breaks through my negative spiral. “We can’t go back and change the past. All we can do now is focus on what lies ahead.”
I nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “You’re right.”
We fall into a silence, and the moments creep by. Suddenly, she chuckles softly.
“What?” I cock my head at her.
“I didn’t expect you to trust me so easily. I mean, you put your life in my hands.”
“Of course I trust you,” I reply without hesitation. “You’ve shown time and again that you’re capable and cool under pressure. Why wouldn’t I trust you?”
“Really?” Her cheeks flush with color. “I never thought you saw that in me.”
“Maybe I haven’t expressed it before, but I see it now,” I admit. “And I’m grateful for it. For you.”
“Oh.” She gazes into the flames, and I’ve never wanted more to be a mind reader than I do now.
“Can I be honest with you?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Of course.” I turn to face her more fully.
“I always thought you never really noticed me at work.” Her gaze drops to her hands that nervously twist in her lap. “Not unless you needed your dry cleaning picking up or a meeting rescheduled.”
Her words sting more than I’d like to admit. Have I come across as aloof and distant? It’s not that I didn’t notice her; quite the opposite, actually. But there’s a need for boundaries at work.
It’s funny how our current circumstances have blown those boundaries to pieces.
“Maria, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.” My chest has tightened at her admission. “It wasn’t intentional. As your boss, I had to maintain a professional distance.”
She nods, giving me a small, understanding smile. “I get it, I do. It’s just strange being here with you like this.”
“Strange, but not unwelcome, right?” I ask, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Definitely not unwelcome.” She chuckles softly.
Suddenly, I become acutely aware of how close we’re sitting. Our shoulders are brushing against each other, and the warmth of her body seeps into mine. The air between us seems to grow heavy, charged with an unspoken desire. For a moment, our eyes lock, and I find myself leaning in closer, lips parting slightly.
I hear her quick intake of breath, see her eyes searching mine… She wants this just as badly as I do.
But then reality slaps me in the face. This is my assistant! What am I doing?
I pull away, my heart racing. “I’m sorry,” I stammer, my face flushing with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to…”
She looks away, her cheeks reddening. “It’s all right, Nathan.” She avoids my gaze. “I don’t know what I was thinking either.”
Her response causes a sharp pang in my chest, but I swallow it down. This isn’t the time or place for anything more than friendship. We’re both too vulnerable, and we need to focus on getting through this storm.
“Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and forget about it, okay?” I suggest, attempting a smile. She nods, still not meeting my eyes, and we both stare into the flames, the unspoken moment hovering between us like a fragile, untouchable thing.
The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows on the walls as we sit side by side on the rug. I can’t stop myself from glancing at her again, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the flames. Her eyes seem to sparkle, and I wonder if she’s as affected by our almost-kiss as I am.
“Maria,” I begin tentatively, my fingers absently tracing the pattern on the blanket covering our legs. “When you said you didn’t know what you were thinking… did you mean that you’re not interested in…” I trail off, unable to voice my fears directly.
She hesitates for a moment, biting her lip before replying. “It’s not that, Nathan. It’s just… complicated.”
I nod, understanding all too well the myriad reasons why starting something between us would be difficult. As her employer, there are certain lines I shouldn’t cross, and yet I find myself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
“Believe me, I know,” I admit quietly, my gaze dropping to the dancing flames. “There are so many reasons why we can’t date. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.”
She shifts closer, her shoulder pressing against mine. “If things were different, if we weren’t in this situation, would you still want to?”
Her question catches me off guard, and I’m surprised to find myself grappling with the urge to open up to her. I’ve never shared my feelings so candidly before, but there’s something about Maria that makes me want to be completely honest with her.
“I think you’re an incredible woman, Maria. You’re smart, talented, and compassionate. I’ve always been impressed by how you handle yourself under pressure, and I can’t deny that I’m attracted to you.”
“Then why don’t you show it at work?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Boundaries,” I reply, remembering my determination to keep things professional between us. “It’s important to maintain a certain level of distance when we’re working together. But now, with everything that’s happened… it’s hard not to let those boundaries blur.”
She nods, her gaze thoughtful as she considers my words. “I understand. And I appreciate your honesty.”
I let out a small sigh, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. Opening up like this is both liberating and terrifying, but I know that it’s necessary if we’re going to navigate this storm together.
As the fire continues to burn, casting its warm glow around us, I can’t help but think about what could have been if circumstances were different. They’re not, though.
And there’s a reason I didn’t directly answer her question about dating her if things were different.
You could take away the precarious situation we’re in, and you could take away the fact that she’s my employee. But even if we had met in a bar, I wouldn’t be able to give her anything beyond a few dates.
Because that’s just not me. It never has been, and it never will be.
Sometimes I dream of being different, but I’m not that na?ve. A tiger doesn’t change his stripes, and if I care about Maria — which I do — it’s up to me to protect her from my bite.