Page 49 of Technical Advances

“You’ll need an attorney,” I began. The look on Benji’s face led me to believe I had started this conversation in the middle, something Beck had gently pointed out to me on any number of occasions.

A shadow of confusion crossed his face, but he nodded in agreement. Reluctantly, I took a half step back and wrapped my hands around his, leading Benji to the couch. I sat, but Benji didn’t follow for a beat, one hand still in mine before he gave it a squeeze and then sat in my lap, his legs curled on the couch, his arms wrapped around my neck.

He kissed me again, but I pulled back quickly. I could feel the tension in my own forehead, mimicking his look.

“A … are you planning to sue me for harassment?” he stuttered, a forced lilt framing the question.

My hands around his waist felt like the lifeline of a drowning man, his arms around my neck the anchor keeping me safely in place. Our eyes spoke volumes in the moments of silence that followed. Eventually, I gathered my thoughts and continued.

“New Day Tech has established policies for interoffice dating. I didn’t realize, because in the past it was strictly against the rules, but it turns out Beck and the HR team updated those rules a few years back.”

Benji nodded encouragingly, his grip tightening around my neck as he relaxed in my lap.

“You can’t report to me,” I began. I felt him stiffen.

“Maybe I should …”

“Wait!” I slid him off me, my entire being feeling the loss of his heat and weight, but my mind needing to focus. The marker had rolled to the floor at some point, and it took me longer than I would have liked to find it, my thoughts scrambling.

A+B=Yes, I wrote underneath our lists, then I added the numbers one through three underneath it.

“One.” I wrote Project Orthos.

“I haven’t talked to anyone yet, but I think the project has to be completely independent. We’ll have to form a separate entity and agree to sell the patent to NDT. Owned jointly and equally between its two collaborative creators, with some acknowledgement that we will be using New Day’s equipment and resources.” I underlined “and equally” before looking back at Benji.

“I would split it unequally. Give you more of a share, but it seems cleaner, safer, if we’re equal partners. That’s what you and your dad should confer with the attorney about. Make sure you agree. Have a third party confirm that I’m not taking advantage of you.”

He shook his head. “Equal partners in Project Orthos. But we already have the profit-sharing agreement?”

“Yeah, but this way, where Project Orthos is concerned, you’re my independent collaborator, not an employee. Both parties would have to agree to tear up the existing agreement. My team won’t be happy about that, but I am the boss. I don’t want you to agree to anything until you’ve really thought about it, but this would be one way we could keep working together on Orthos.”

I worked hard to read his face. Eventually, he smiled at me and nodded. “I get it. Number two?” It took me a beat before I remembered my list and turned back to the paper.

“Number two,” I repeated before writing, You cannot report to me.

“If you want to stay at New Day, you’ll have to be assigned to a department. The job of scientific research assistant to Anson Day can never be yours. From this moment forward …”

Benji’s supportive nod helped me complete my joke.

“Should you choose to sit on my lap again, I can never have any input as to your continued employment at NDT, and you can never work directly for me.”

Benji’s silence gripped my heart. We’d had comfortable silences in the past, but I wasn’t sure at that moment what he was thinking. I gripped the pen and felt the heat of my eyes boring into Benji’s, trying to understand his lack of response.

A slow smile brightened his face. I wanted to scream at the juxtaposition of my anxiety with his apparent gaiety.

“What’s number three?” he asked, without commenting on number two.

“Number three?” I repeated absently, still waiting for whatever bomb Benji’s pause was priming.

He pointed at the paper. “You have a third point.”

“Oh! Funding for Project Orthos would have to be separate and … can’t come directly from NDT to you. So …” I added an “a.” and a “b.” below number three.

“So, we either work full-time on Project Orthos, and … you don’t get paid, or we get you set up in your new department, and we work on the project after hours.”

“Have you run any of this by Beck, or Erin?” he asked, and I shook my head no, drawing a bracket on my numbered points and then an arrow to where I had underlined HR ISSUES more than once.

Benji popped up from the couch quickly, but then he sauntered over to me, his limbs loose, his face alight. I wished I could alleviate my own tension, but all I could do was watch as he stood close to me. So close that I could smell the scent of him, reminding me of the hours we’d spent together in my office and in the lab. His clean-linen smell, mixed with a whiff of alcohol from the champagne we had shared, and the stale smell of crab from the appetizer that I ordered every time I ate at Beantown Prime.