Lines She Couldnt Cross
The next morning, they all gathered in one of the hotel’s conference rooms for the summit’s strategy session. The room was sleek and modern, with a long glass table, projection screens mounted on the walls, and folders neatly arranged in front of each seat.
The session focused on client negotiations, partnership reviews, and follow-up strategies from the previous days.
Teams presented summaries of meetings held with prospective clients, highlighting interests, objections, and possible deal structures.
Kelvin led most of the discussion-calm, precise, and authoritative-asking questions, correcting assumptions, and assigning next steps.
Sharon listened attentively, occasionally taking notes, careful not to draw unnecessary attention to herself.
She made a conscious effort to sit far from Lillian.
Anytime their eyes almost met, Sharon quickly looked away, pretending to be deeply focused on her notepad.
She wasn’t ready for another confrontation-not after the tension of the previous night.
When Lillian spoke, Sharon kept her face neutral, nodding slightly where necessary, making sure not to appear dismissive or challenging.
At one point, a document was passed around the table.
“Please ensure everyone signs,” Lillian said, her tone clipped.
Sharon hesitated for a split second before taking the paper, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you,” as she passed it along. Lillian responded with a stiff nod, saying nothing more. It wasn’t peace, but it was tolerable-and Sharon clung to that.
Once the session ended, chairs scraped lightly against the floor as people stood and gathered their things.
Conversations broke out in low murmurs. Sharon wasted no time.
She tucked her notebook under her arm and headed straight for the exit, her only goal to get back to her room without running into anyone.
“Sharon.”
Her heart skipped.
She turned slowly and found Kelvin standing a few steps behind her, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine, sir,” she replied quickly.
“Good ?” he answered, falling into step beside her as they walked down the hallway.
“Sir… how do you do all this with so much calm,” she said, unsure why the conversation felt so heavy.
“I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. It’s just practice and dedication,” he said, then added after a pause, “Johannesburg treating you well?”
“Yes, sir.”
Silence stretched between them.
He cleared his throat. “The sessions have been productive. Are you following everything okay?”
“Yes. It’s been… enlightening,” she answered, surprised at herself.
He nodded. “Good. Travel like this can be overwhelming sometimes. Different environment, different pressure.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly, wondering why there were so many questions.
They reached a corner. She slowed, hoping that meant the end of the conversation.
“Well,” he said with a slight smile, “you should get some rest before the evening.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” she replied, relief washing over her.
As she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of him watching her walk away, as if he wanted to say something more-but didn’t.
****
That evening, Sharon met him at the agreed spot after dinner. The shopping district was vibrant-bright lights, designer storefronts, soft music floating through the air. Kelvin walked beside her, hands in his pockets, unusually quiet.
“You can pick anything you like,” he said casually. “No pressure.”
She smiled nervously. “I don’t really shop much.”
“Okay……. Then you can take just what you need” he said with a straight face.
They walked into a boutique. She picked up a dress, then put it back. He watched her from across the room, pretending to check his phone.
“That one suits you,” he said suddenly.
She turned, surprised. “You think so?”
“Yes,” he replied, a little too quickly. “I mean-yes.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment. She looked away first, her cheeks warming.
At the counter, their hands brushed as she reached for her card and he handed over his instead. Both paused. Both pulled back at the same time.
“Sorry,” they said in unison.
An awkward laugh escaped her. He smiled-really smiled-and for a moment, the air between them felt different. Softer.
Nervously rubbing her palms together, Sharon slowed her steps.
“Sir… can I ask you something?”
He glanced at her, mildly amused. “Go ahead.”
She swallowed. “Sir… are you gay?”
He stopped walking.
“What?” He turned to her sharply. “What kind of question is that? Do I look gay to you? And when you barged into my office the other day, was I with a man?”
She blinked, flustered. “No, sir.”
“Then why would you ask me that?”
She shifted uneasily. “It’s just… it’s a rumor going round the office.”
He let out a short, incredulous laugh. “That I’m gay?” “Interesting.”
“I didn’t start it,” she said quickly. “I just heard it.”
“So,” he said, folding his arms, his tone calm but probing, “why would anyone even come to that conclusion?”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Well… you’re very strict with the female staff. More than with the men.”
“Oh?” His brow lifted slightly. “So discipline suddenly translates to sexual preference?”
“No-” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I have my reasons for being that way,” he said evenly. “They’re personal. And necessary.”
She nodded quickly. “I was just wondering if maybe… you think being friendly might be misinterpreted.”
He studied her briefly. “That’s an assumption.”
“I know,” she rushed. “I didn’t say it was right.”
There was a pause.
“Tell me something, Sharon,” he said, changing tack. “Do you think I’m into men?”
Her heart jumped. “I… I don’t know, sir.”
“That’s not what I asked.” His voice remained steady. “Forget the rumor. What do you think?”
She swallowed hard. “I think… you’re not gay.”
“And why?” he asked, neutral, curious but not warm.
She lifted her eyes to his, held them longer than she meant to. “I don’t know. I just… feel you like women.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s your evidence?”
She smiled nervously. “Yes, sir.”
“And if I told you I like both?” he asked casually.
The air shifted - but only for her.
She froze, suddenly too aware of how close he was, of how calm his voice sounded saying things that made her chest feel tight.
After a beat, he straightened.
“I’m not gay,” he said plainly. “I like women. That’s all you need to know.”
She nodded quickly, trying to suppress the warmth spreading through her.
“Can I ask one more thing, sir?”
He exhaled. “Go ahead.”
“Why did you put that no-flirting rule in the office?”
His eyes flicked to her, sharp but unreadable. “Why do you ask?”
She panicked slightly. “I’m not planning to flirt,” she said quickly. “I was just curious.”
“Curiosity can be dangerous,” he replied. “Especially at work.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
A few steps passed before she spoke again, quieter now. “I think… sometimes people misunderstand attention.”
He slowed slightly. “Attention?”
“Yes,” she said. “When it’s given without intention.”
He glanced at her briefly. “And do you feel I’ve given you attention?”
Her pulse thundered. “I think you don’t even realize when you do,” she answered honestly.
He stopped.
“Careful, Sharon,” he said calmly. “Not every thought needs to be explored.”
She nodded, even though her chest felt heavy.
Because for him, it was still just a conversation.
But for her, it was the moment she realized-
She was already falling. And he was nowhere near catching her.
She understood why her colleagues are so smitten by him, it’s very difficult not to, especially when you spend time around him. He just has a way of rubbing off on you.
***
Sharon sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall, her shopping bags forgotten.
Her heart still felt loud.
She didn’t understand what was happening to her. She only knew one thing-Whatever this was, it was already bigger than she was ready for.
I have more important things to worry about, she told herself firmly. Her job. Lillian. The office politics are waiting for her back home. The embarrassment she still hadn’t fully recovered from. She didn’t have the luxury to entertain confusing thoughts about her boss.
And yet… His voice replayed in her head. The way he had looked at her- even answering all her questions without complaint. The silence they shared felt heavy but not uncomfortable.
Stop it, she warned herself. She pressed her palms to her cheeks as if that could chase the thoughts away.
But even as she lay down to sleep, she found herself wondering- Why does he look at me like that? And worse- Why do I care?