Page 58 of Emil

“Yeah, that sounds about right. How many weeks is the flower arranging class?”

“Oh. Shoot. I think it’s about six weeks. I guess that means I won’t be taking the class after all.” He gave a minuscule shake of his head as he delivered our plates and slid mine in front of me. He sat at the table and waited until I’d started eating before lifting his fork.“Why can’t you take them?”

“If the files are done in two weeks and the classes run six, it doesn’t really make sense.”

“That sounds like a reason for you to stay out here longer then.”

“I can’t just keep occupying your cottage.”

“You can if I say you can. It’s not being used by anyone else, you don’t have an apartment, and you’re taking a class.”

“Am I still suspended from my job, or am I losing my position when I finish what I’m working on?”

The calm, quiet way he asked had me nearly choking on my coffee.

“Holy shit, Anders. You’ve got to warn a guy before you drop that on him.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for the last few days, since I can see a clear end to the project. If I’m still suspended, it doesn’t make sense to keep me on.”

“I’m going to ask you to let me worry about that. You’re not suspended from the company. You’re temporarily reassigned.”

“Is the audit almost finished?”

“This morning has been too nice to talk about the fucking mess that is that merger. How about we just enjoy breakfast instead?”

“Fine by me,” Anders said with a small smile. “I’m going to take care of a few things.”

He left the kitchen, but not before refilling my coffee, clearing my plate, and bringing my laptop over to me. When I opened it, it was fully charged.

I watched him head toward my bedroom and gave him a ten-minute head start before following.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, but it wasn’t this.

The bed was made, pillows fluffed. In the bathroom, the sink had been wiped down, and my toiletries arranged in neat rows. My shoes, polished as usual, sat by the chair where I put them on. Anders stood in my closet, looking through my suits.

He turned when he heard me and froze, guilt written all over his face.

“Is this too much? This is too much.”

“It depends,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“Today’s Thursday,” Anders said, like that should explain everything.

“Okay?”

“On Thursdays, you go into the office. That means a suit. You don’t like white shirts because you’ve mentioned you’re worried about spilling something on them. You don’t wear black suits unless you have a meeting, and you didn’t mention a meeting, so you’d wear blue. You prefer silk ties over cotton, and I was trying to see which one you haven’t worn in a while so you could rotate.”

“And you got all that from it being Thursday?”

“I like patterns.”

He looked so uncertain standing there by my clothes that I couldn’t stay in the doorway any longer. I crossed the room in a few quick strides and crowded him gently back against the wall next to the dresser.

“Damn, you’re hot when you talk like this.” The temptation of his mouth was too much for me. I pressed a kiss to his lips and then returned for another pass.

Anders wasn’t ready for more, and damn, it was killing me.

“Thanks for fitting me in today.”