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Of course, she doesn't owe me attention, but I’d love more time to pick her brain, learn more about her, and find out what makes her tick. “If that’s been left undisclosed, then what else are they hiding?” she asks herself in a soft voice that I’ve come to recognize. She often talks to herself about cases she’s working on. It’s adorable.
Something about her focus and determination balanced with playful curiosity leave me feeling like I can never get enough of her.
Her gaze meets mine. “You’re staring again.”
I let out a chuckle. “I am, I’m sorry.”
A smile tugs the corners of her lips and she taps the back of her pen on her notepad. Even though most of the office - myself included - have switched to digital means of notetaking, she still prefers the visceral feel of pen on paper. At least, that’s what she’d told me when I asked.
“It’s okay,” she says, her gaze searching my face as if seeking out answers to questions she hasn’t asked yet.
I reach out to straighten up the file on my desk, thinking about liking everything about her. Her fire and her passion. I love that she's animated on the phone with clients, saying things that make her not only relatable, but funny and loveable. Every one of her clients fall in love with her.
And I worry I might be falling as well.
The way she makes people laugh and trust her, her ability with words and with people, even me, leaves me admiring her more often than not.
I reach for my phone, my thoughts a million miles away from work. I know there’s no way I can sink back into the case I’m working on with her taking up every bit of my brain power.
She’s become an unsolvable puzzle I don’t know how to ignore.
“Stop thinking so loud,” she says, and I instantly recognize the words I’d said to her in her car on our way back to the office when I’d had to face Anton.
“No way,” I say with a smile.
I’ve never met someone so willing to speak their mind or challenge others, albeit kindly. Her sharp wit and intelligence keep me on my toes and I can’t help but think that her ability to be a good partner and friend would translate outside the office... if I could ever work up the courage to ask her out.
I’m not afraid she’d say no, I’m afraid I’d ruin the easy comradery we have, or the way we’ve taken up a back-to-back or shoulder to shoulder stance against Anton. She’s on my side and has seen a bit of my father’s cruelty behind his perfect facade.
But I want her to be more. I want us to be more than simply working buddies or partners.
“Did you need some help?” she asks, and out of the corner of my eye I see her gesture to the case files on my desk.
I’ve come to love our time spent talking out cases. She’s not just razor sharp; she never leaves me feeling bad about details I might have overlooked or missed. She’s kind and treats me like I’m the smartest person in the room when I know I am not. Heck, I’m not the smartest person in the room when I’m the only person in the room.
Her ability to plainly explain her reasoning and logic make her the perfect companion for the tougher work, and her unique ability to help me find answers I might not have noticed otherwise seems to have rubbed off on me. I’m doing better than I ever have before and even Anton is taking notice.
“I don’t think so,” I say with a smile. “My stomach isn’t going to let me think about work right now.” That statement is half right.
“Okay,” she says softly.
Again, that warm fuzzy feeling wells up in me and I try to figure out how I got here. No matter what I’ve tried to do to put the brakes on things, I can see that I’m starting to have feelings for her. The kind of feelings I have no business having for my business partner.
Sure, it was funny in the beginning when I kissed her before we worked together, but now... she’s a distraction I can’t afford to have. And if Anton ever catches wind that I have feelings for her, he’d exploit them faster than I could flip a switch.
She’s a danger to me, a blue ring octopus, beautiful and deadly with no idea how easily she could endanger everything I know and love.
And as those disturbing realities crash over me, one after the other like stormy waves crashing on a beach, I hear a knock at the door.
“Food?” I ask, frowning. It’s way too early for the delivery guy to be here. She lifts both shoulders and stands, making her way to the door with that graceful walk she’s captivated me with far too often.
With a smile over her shoulder at me, I can hear her voice in my head saying, You’re staring again even though she doesn’t even open her mouth.
I can’t help but wonder if she has some idea how I feel about her. As careful as I feel I’ve been to keep my thoughts to myself, she’s a perceptive and highly intelligent person. I have to assume she’s figured me out and acts accordingly.
My heart thumps in my chest, no doubt because I feel caught. If she knows I like her, then that could be a wrench in our working relationship. And if she’s figured me out, it’s only a matter of time before Anton does, if he hasn’t already.
I hold my breath, then let it out slowly as she reaches the door. Part of me wants to tell her not to answer, to just ignore whoever is on the other side. If it’s Anton, he’s going to sense the tension in the air and likely figure things out right away.
