Kim #3
"Xavier." He said it firmly this time. "And yes, you can. I'll work from the small conference room."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to insist that I didn't need special treatment, didn't need his charity, could handle my own problems the way I'd always handled them. Alone. Without help. Without owing anyone anything.
But Zoe was already looking around the office with wonder, pointing at the view, asking if those tiny cars were real or if they were toys. And I was so tired. So tired of fighting everything, of carrying everything, of pretending I could do it all myself when I so obviously couldn't.
"Thank you," I said. "Really, thank you."
Xavier nodded. Set Zoe down gently, ruffling her hair as he released her. "I'll be down the hall if you need anything."
He grabbed his laptop, tucked the folder under his arm, and walked out. I stood there for a moment, off-balance, trying to reconcile this version of Xavier Dubois with the careless playboy and nightmare boss the office gossiped about.
I set her up in Xavier's office, arranging her coloring books on the coffee table, propping her tablet against the arm of the leather sofa. The couch was enormous, swallowing her small body, and she snuggled into the cushions with a contented sigh.
"This is the best spy headquarters ever," she declared.
"It really is."
I kissed her forehead and went back to my desk, leaving Xavier's door open so I could keep an eye on her.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Except nothing about it was normal, and I kept glancing through the glass wall at my daughter in the corner office, half-expecting someone to appear and tell me Xavier had changed his mind and I was fired.
No one appeared. Zoe colored happily, watched her movies, and occasionally pressed her face against the window to look at the city below.
Around eleven, I caught movement in the small conference room where Xavier was working. He was on a call, laptop open in front of him, but his eyes had drifted to the glass wall. To his office. To Zoe.
She was standing at the window now, her small hand pressed against the glass, watching something in the distance. I couldn't see her face, but I could imagine her expression: rapt, wondering, drinking in the vastness of the city.
Xavier watched her for a long moment. Then he seemed to shake himself, refocus on his call, and return to whatever he was discussing.
At noon, I took Zoe to the break room for lunch. It was empty, thank God. I didn't think I could handle explaining this situation to anyone else today.
Around three o'clock, I glanced up from my computer and saw something that made me freeze.
Zoe was at the window again. But she wasn't alone.
Xavier stood beside her, pointing at something in the distance.
His mouth was moving, explaining something, and Zoe was nodding along with rapt attention.
Her small hand was pressed against the glass right next to his larger one.
I couldn't hear what they were saying. Couldn't see their expressions from this angle. But something about the image—the tall man and the tiny girl, absorbed in their own private conversation—made a lump form in my throat.
I looked away. Focused on my screen. Blinked until the burning behind my eyes subsided.
When I looked back, Xavier was returning to the small conference room, and Zoe was pressing her nose against the glass, probably looking for whatever he'd pointed out.
At five o'clock, Xavier stopped by my desk.
"Hey." He was in his shirtsleeves now, jacket abandoned somewhere, tie loosened. He looked tired but not unhappy. "How's she doing in there?"
"Good. She's been perfect all day." I hesitated. "Thank you. Again. For everything."
He shrugged, but his eyes were serious. "If childcare falls through again, let me know. We'll figure something out."
I frowned. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would you do that?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. This is..." I struggled to find the right words. "This isn't how bosses usually act."
Xavier was quiet for a moment. His fingers tapped against the edge of my desk, a nervous rhythm.
"Zoe's good luck," he said finally. "Can't risk losing my lucky charm before the deal officially closes."
"Thank you."
He nodded back and walked away.
I gathered Zoe and her things. Packed up the coloring books, the tablet, and the snacks she hadn't eaten. Zoe hugged her elephant and looked around Xavier's office.
"Bye, spy headquarters," she whispered.
We headed for the elevator. As we passed the small conference room, Zoe twisted in my arms and waved through the glass. Xavier looked up from his laptop. Smiled. Waved back. Zoe giggled and settled against my shoulder, satisfied.
In the elevator, she tugged at my sleeve. "Mommy?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"I like your boss." She said it matter-of-factly, the way children stated simple truths. "He's not scary like you said."
I hadn't said he was scary. I'd said he was difficult. Demanding. Impossible to please. I was realizing now that I might have been wrong.