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Gray
In the middle of the afternoon, Jonah knocks softly on the doorframe of my office. He looks freshly showered, in cargo shorts and a baggy Iowa State Fair t-shirt he must have had in his bag.
“I trust you slept well?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” He angles his chin down and stares at his uneven wool socks, rubbing his stump absentmindedly. “You, uh, said that you had an idea.”
“Have a seat.”
Sliding onto the very edge of the chair across from me, he straightens his back and rests his hand politely in his lap. He still can’t keep his eyes from wandering around the room, forgetting himself and wrinkling his nose at one of the abstract art pieces on the wall before jerking his attention back to me.
“I’ve been considering the situation, and I’ve spoken to Avery.” His jaw tightens and his brows furrow, but I ignore him. “We both think you deserve a second chance, Jonah. He believes he can convince the school administration to retain your scholarship and let you start fresh at the beginning of the spring semester, if—” I hold up my finger when he opens his mouth “—ifyou complete an academic improvement plan and work as my intern until the end of the year.”
“Oh.”
After a long moment, it becomes clear he has nothing else to say. For once, his face isn’t broadcasting every single thing he thinks and feels. It’s unnerving. “I can provide you room and board, since unenrolled students can't use school housing. There are several empty bedrooms downstairs, and I never go into that part of the house. It's only fair that I also offer you a stipend, which you can send to your parents or use for whatever you need. ”
He taps the Newton’s cradle on my desk and watches it swing. “Now youaretaking advantage of me. Making me do what you want because I don’t have a choice.” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“How conniving of me, forcing you to take valuable work experience and pursue your dream instead of throwing your life away to sleep in a library bathroom or wherever the hell you were.”
“Damn you,” he murmurs, catching the swinging metal balls and holding them still. Then he looks up at me and smiles stiffly. “Thanks for sorting everything out for me, Mr. Freeman. I’m so excited for the opportunity.”
“You’re welcome.” I slide my chair over to the printer to grab a copy of the employment agreement I drafted. By the time I catch the sarcasm, his pointed use of my last name, he’s staring innocently out the window.
When he tries to pick up the contract, I rest my palm against it. “One more thing. I want to be perfectly clear that I’m offering you this position because I see potential in you and I truly care about your future. This has nothing to do with whatever else has happened between us, and our relationship will be entirely professional from this day forward. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He raises an eyebrow at me, sliding his hand over the sheet until his fingertips brush mine. “It means sucking your dick isn’t in the list of job duties.”
“Indeed.” I withdraw my hand, studying him. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Jonah. Our…encounters were ill-advised, perhaps, but mutually consenting and…” I hunt for an acceptably mature and distant word. “Edifying.”
He snorts so hard he starts coughing. “Run that by me again?”
“I’mtryingto say that even though it’s not something I can condone now, it wasn’t wrong and you shouldn’t feel ashamed.”
He crosses his legs and sits back in the chair. “But it is wrong now.”
“Yes.”
“Because I’m your intern.”
“Correct.”
His chin tips up, eyes teasing. “But I wasn’t two hours ago, so it wasn’t wrong then.”
“In theory.” I glare at him as he picks up my pen and bites the end of it thoughtfully, glancing from me to the contract.
“But I haven’t signed, so is it wrong yet or does it not become wrong until this pen touches this paper?”
I exhale slowly. “Tell me why you failed your classes? Because you sound like a lawyer to me.”
“Maybe I’ll put you out of a job.” He flips to the last page, signs without reading any of it—we’re definitely going to work on that—and then sits back. “Thanks again. Thank Avery, too. I’m glad he got a chance to weigh in; wouldn’t have wanted him to feel left out.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I lean across the desk and grab my very expensive pen back before he takes it apart. “Do you have a problem you want to discuss?”
The fight seems to drain out of him, and he slides down in his chair. “Sorry. No. I’m fine.”
“Your first duty is to call your parents. You don’t have to explain everything, but at least tell them you’re moving and starting a new job. I’ll help you get settled downstairs later.”
