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Samson swung by that morning to show them a mockup of the selling points of the new complex: Security, luxury, and community. April was confident that she could think of ways to ensure that, but Hutchinson kept pushing for designs that were, while pretty, still the basic layout of most existing complexes in the city. There were dozens of little square places, all with two stories, laid out on a grid, and with a fence or wall around them. You could rent at any price point on the spectrum and get something similar in design, varying only in quality. That just wasn’t good enough—not for a project that might cement their firm’s name in the city, or perhaps even the region.
***
When it came time for a break, the team split into groups and headed out for lunch. Unnoticed, and a bit grateful for it, April headed for the break room where her homemade lunch was waiting. Cash flow was still tight until she got her first check. She was even borrowing some of Lana’s clothing for work right now.
There again in the break room was Samson, lingering by the coffee pot. He always seemed to be busy. He also always seemed to be around when she was on break or sometimes even heading to her car. The result was a fluttering heart and more sweaty palms. She knew that he would be at the office daily and that his effect on her might be a problem, but she hadn’t anticipated that she would see him quite this much.
April hesitated at the doorway. Maybe she could make a quick trip to the restroom, and he’d be gone by the time she ducked back in?
“Afternoon, April,” Samson said, making the decision for her.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett.”
April glided past him to get to the refrigerator. Just then, he moved toward the handle, blocking her. She nearly grabbed his arm by accident
“Pardon me,” he said. Samson smiled as though he weren’t sorry at all and held the door open for her.
April leaned over, grabbed her insulated lunch bag, and moved over to the table.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I have coffee coming out of my pores by now.”
Samson chuckled and leaned against the counter. “Is Hutchinson working you too hard?”
“No, not at all. I’m just not used to having a normal schedule, yet.” April opened up her lunch and took out the little containers that held salad and cut fruit. “And, if I’m being honest, I’m a bit of a night owl. I get all my best ideas at midnight.”
“Do you? I hate to keep you up, then. I’m usually up late myself. Though, perhaps for different reasons.”
“The girl du jour won’t let you sleep?”
Samson cleared his throat. April looked back nervously. He staring at her very sternly.
“I’m sorry. I was just—”
“—You were joking, of course.” Samson leaned forward. “I do have a sense of humor, too.”
April pushed her salad around with her fork. “I’m sure you do. But you’re my boss. You can’t joke with a boss the same way you do a regular coworker.”
“You seem to be perfectly capable.”
“And you’re not making things any easier.”
“Oh?” Samson seemed amused. “How am I doing this?”
“When you glare at me after I make a joke, it feels like I’ve crossed a line. Then, you encourage me to joke around with you. Under these circumstances, it’s hard to get a sense of what is appropriate, and that’s important to have if I’m going to work here.”
“Is it?”
“Would you want Garcia ripping on you about your sex life and calling you ‘Sammy’?”
“I have a hard time imagining him doing such a thing,” he paused, and then said gravely, “No one calls me ‘Sammy.’”
“You also tower.”
Samson set his coffee down and narrowed his eyes. “How do I do that?”
“You’re impossibly tall, and you never just sit next to someone. You loom.” April shrugged. “That’s good for enforcing boundaries, if that’s what you want. It makes it harder to tell where someone stands with you.”
“Because I’m standing?” he smirked. God, that smirk of his.
“Because you’re looming.” April stabbed a cherry tomato and ate it. She wasn’t going to let him spoil her lunch. Though, once again, he seemed to be trying. “So I’m going to try not to make blue jokes, unless you decide you feel like sitting at the table with the rest of us.”
Samson placed his hand on his chest. “You cut me deep, April. Deprived of your jokes? I’m not sure what my day would be like without your wit.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.” April continued with her lunch but paused, thinking for a moment. “You could drink coffee in your office, you know.”
