Chapter 13 #2
“We’re alike, you and I. The work, that’s just a part of it. It may have been what brought us together, but don’t you see it was meant to bring us together? We’re meant to be together!”
I wanted that to be true, but I wanted to protect him more. So I said something else that I thought might be true. I couldn’t look at him while I said it, so I inspected the printer once again.
“I worshiped you as a kid. I think I’ve told you that before. I had your picture on my computer screen, and I followed your career. What if … You speak of connection, but what if it’s just a fantasy? My fantasy. What if I’m taking advantage of you?”
The printer paused, and the silence was deafening. I stared at the machine all the same, waiting for Anson to tell me to fuck off. Eventually, I heard him rise, the chair clattering as he approached me.
I could sense him near me, my pulse thrumming, his scent surrounding me, his heat inflaming me. From a few steps behind me, he began.
“I’ve been … famous, or whatever, for a long time, Benji. And I know people think I’m naive, or precious, but I didn’t think you did. I’ve been with men over the years.”
My body reacted before I could stop it, straightening, bristling at the thought of him with other men but also at the thought of him being with anyone who might take advantage of him, who might hurt him.
“And sure, Beck always swoops in with NDAs, and I always let him.” I could hear a slight smile in his tone and could picture it. It drew me to him, and I turned.
“And maybe, early on, it hurt to realize I was being used. But just like everything else”—he waved around the room—“it only took a few failed experiments to tweak the factors. It’s been a long time since a hookup took advantage of me, for my notoriety, or my money, or even because his dream was to meet the Anson Day or to work for New Day Tech. ”
He grasped my forearms then, his eyes locked on mine, the noise of the printer once again filling the room. “That’s not what’s happening here, Benji. And you know it. Tell me you know it.”
I knew I felt drawn to him, and that there may have been something to our having a deeper connection than just creating a similar project. But how could I let him drag himself into a scandal for a kid who’d worshiped his picture growing up?
“I know I want this job, and that I don’t want people looking at me like I got it for the wrong reasons.
I know you’re a public figure who doesn’t need a scandal and wouldn’t want to drag his company into one.
I know you're my boss, and I'm your employee.” I paused before saying what I had to say.
“I think we have to leave it at that.” If the word leave caught in my throat, we both ignored it.
He dropped his hands, then reached out and brushed a curl away from my forehead, pulling away quickly, the fire between us having turned into something bad, something wrong.
“If that’s what you want.” His voice was taut but resigned.
He walked to the printer, pulling his hair back into a ponytail as he went, and examined the component being created.
I stared at it and nodded before turning to the computer to queue up another piece in another machine.
Behind me, I could hear Anson setting up the new printer to accept the next set of coordinates.
What I want? I thought. No, of course that wasn’t what I fucking wanted. But it was the right thing to do, to protect Anson from a scandal I didn’t think he, or his company, could handle.
We could have continued to work, like we’d done every night, until Beck startled us and kicked us out. But I couldn’t be around him. Like the state-of-the-art printers we were working with, I needed to recalibrate to our new normal so we could find a way for us to continue to work together.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you, Anson. I’m sending the next component through now.” The mouse clicked.
“I’m going to go,” I said, facing the computer, sensing his back still to me at the printer. “And I’ll see you Friday night. At dinner. With my dad.”
Dad looked up at the embossed wooden sign above the heavy glass-and-wood doors.
I could tell the contractor in him was calculating the cost, time, materials, artistry, and attention to detail.
Dad liked to think we were very different, but I was fairly sure the whirring in my brain was not dissimilar to how his worked. He stood straighter and looked at me.
“Should I have worn a tie?”
“You look great, Dad.” He was dressed in khakis and a blazer, with a Henley underneath.
I wore the suit I’d purchased to interview in.
I had envisioned needing it for more than one interview and figured I should get some use out of it.
Beantown Prime was the type of place where my suit would fit right in.
I pulled the heavy door open and followed my dad inside, and yeah, most of the men may have been sporting a suit and tie, but that just made me stand taller, proud to be the soon-to-be Dr. Warren and even prouder of the man standing next to me.
“Anson picked this place?”
I may have been scanning the room for the man himself when I heard from behind us, “For the cuisine more than the atmosphere. They have a Wagyu that I think you’re going to love.”