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This, like everything else in life, was just a matter of time.
He piled the papers together, and then tapped them along the edge of his desk until they were uniform. Still, one paper was bent and he shuffled through until he found the culprit.
He shouldn't have looked at it. He knew that much. Still, the sheet was practically covered in curly-cue writing and he couldn't help reading it over one last time.
What distinguished the subject from other potential mates?
Garret is trustworthy and dependable.
A knife twisted between his ribs, but still he read on.
With other men, I was always afraid to be judged, but with Garret I feel like anything other people found lacking is simply something else for him to explore. It seems like it would be a weird thing, like I'd feel like someone's science experiment. But I don't, somehow. Instead, I feel like the most interesting person in the world. Like everything I have to say is fascinating, even if I myself don't think so.
He read over the answer again, and then tried to convince himself to stop. It was none of his business. This was confidential. He was never supposed to see her answers. That had been their deal.
And yet...
What attracts you to this subject?
My attraction is hard to quantify. There is a physical element. All the usual primitive longings that a woman can have for a man are there. Still, there was something else. Like a magnetic pull. When I'm with Garret, I can't imagine who I am when he's not around. I feel better. More important. It's not just that he's a wonderful, smart, perfectly unique person. He makes me feel like I'm one too.
He let the paper fall to the desk.
He'd let things get too far with Rachael. That much was certain, and completely unfixable.
Still, now he knew there was a bigger problem that needed to be fixed.
Lucky for him, this time he knew exactly what to do.
15
Rachael's exit interview was scheduled for nine that morning, but she showed up at quarter of, coffee in hand, hoping against hope that she got one of the secretaries that was easier to sway than the others. Or at least one of the ones she hadn’t passive-aggressively laid the smack down on.
That way, it would be easier to strong arm them into letting her see Garret one last time. After what had happened, odds were that he'd never want to see her again, but she still couldn't bring herself to leave him without giving it one last chance.
With a deep breath, she strode toward the secretarial cubicle, but when she rounded the corner, she found that nobody was there. She checked her watch. Ten to nine. By now, the office should have been in full swing. But then... where the hell were the secretaries.
Hell, where was anyone? She walked from one desk to the next, but every ringing phone clicked off within seconds, going directly to voicemail.
"What..." She whispered to herself, and then continued on to Garret's office.
Even if there had been some sort of Wednesday morning rapture, she was sure nothing had torn that man from his desk.
And she was right.
Or, at least, partially right.
Garret stood staring out the huge, glass back wall of his office. Every surface in the place was covered in candles, glowing in the mid-morning light. The cool, gray floors were hardly visible beneath the fresh carpet of rose petals that covered the ground.
Rachael's breath caught, but she stepped forward still, clearing her throat so that Garret would turn around.
When their eyes met, she was lost.
He was all stern mouth and serious face, the same way he always looked when he was studying something intently. But there was nothing else around. Nothing but the two of them and the energy that pulsed between, drawing her closer to him with every breath.
She met him half way across the room.
"I'm a little early," she whispered, silently hating herself for how stupid she sounded.
