Honestly, he was over that email already. His anger had come from the initial shock of it, the thought that the board and his shareholders would take him for a fool after reading it. He’d quickly sent them all a follow-up email with an explanation far too technologically advanced for their older minds to comprehend—something about a breach in the firewall and a virus, etc. But the longer they drove, the more tongue-tied he became. It’s not like anythinghadphysically happened between them. But it almost had. Twice.
They finally stopped outside her apartment. This place seemed to get worse every time he saw it; there was a broken lawn chair lying in the middle of the road now, and the remains of what looked like a rat were splattered across the road. A very big rat, or was it a cat? She reached for the door handle and climbed out, throwing a very dismissive “thanks” over her shoulder. He sat there and watched her walk away from him and a bolt of panic rushed through him. He didn’t want her to walk away. He hadn’t spoken to her yet about what had happened, and he didn’t want to leave things the way they were. He climbed out of the car and ran after her.
She stopped walking and turned around. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Walking you to your door.”
“Why?” she asked.
He shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. The rain was a light trickle now, and she was standing in it with her arms crossed. Droplets of water ran down her cheeks and pooled in the corners of her mouth. He so badly wanted to kiss them away.
“I’ve been walking myself to my door every day for the last five months. All on my own. You don’t have to come and rescue me. I’m more than capable of doing this by myself, thank you,” she said.
“Well, you shouldn’t have to do it by yourself,” he said. “It doesn’t look safe here.”
“Why the hell are you so concerned about my safety anyway?” she challenged him.
He shrugged again. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“That makes no sense.” She threw her arms in the air.
“Tell me about it.”
She shook her head and started walking again. But still, he followed her. When she reached the front of the building she turned again. “Cool. I’m at the door now. Goodbye.” She began her fight with the door. It finally opened, and she started walking through it. He knew he needed to talk to her. Now or never.
“About what happened in my office,” he suddenly said.
She stopped walking and stood with her back to him.
“What happened should not have happened and I want to apologize if you felt uncomfortable in any way and—”
“Nothing happened.” She cut him off. “Other than you firing me.”
“I did,” he conceded. “But then you walked into the wall and . . .”
“My head is fine, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She walked inside and he followed her again.
“What are you doing?” She spun around and glared at him.
“Walking you to your door.”
“We’re already through the door.”
“I meant your other door.” He pointed up.
She sighed. “Suit yourself,” she said and started making her way up the stairs. When they finally reached her door, she opened it and stood in the doorway, giving him a very clear message; he was not welcome inside.
He looked at her door. It was an old, rickety-looking wooden thing. There was no security gate on it, no double locks . . . nothing.
“What does your locking system look like from the inside?” he asked, walking past her and into her flat.
“Excuse me! What are you doing?” she asked.
He didn’t answer; instead he looked at the back of her door in horror. “One little lock? That’s all? No deadbolt, no chains, nothing?”
“God,” she huffed. “You even disapprove of the lock on my door!” She threw her bag down onto the tiny kitchen counter.
“I do actually! Anyone could break in.”
