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I know I can't though. I have a million questions and a million other things to say, but I need to bite it all back and swallow it all down. It's not appropriate and will likely only strain things between us, if not obliterate them altogether. And personally speaking, I'd like a chance to explore the things going on in my head before that happens. She remains the one person I've never been able to truly figure out.
In a lot of ways, Emily has remained a total mystery to me, her heart and mind completely opaque. I don't know if that's the pull she has on me, or if there's something more to it, but I want to find out. Which means I need to be on my best behavior for now. Until I can find a crack in her armor that I can wriggle through, I have no choice but to treat her like any other employee – when she's anything but that to me.
The question I'm asking myself most often lately is – what exactly is she to me?
“So, tell me what you've been up to since the last time I saw you,” I attempt, trying to open a casual conversation.
She bites her bottom lip and looks down at her desk. “No offense, but I don't think we should be opening up anything – personal,” she counters. “I think we need to keep things strictly professional.”
The sting of disappointment at having her rebuff me like that is as sharp as it is bitter. On one level, it bothers me because I'm not used to being turned down. As I think back on it, I'm pretty sure Emily is the only woman who's ever refused me in my life. I'm not a man used to chasing women, but when it comes to her, that's all I seem to do. It's both frustrating as hell and strangely compelling to me in a way.
“I can appreciate that,” I reply. “But we'll be working in such close proximity to each other that I hope we can at least be friendly.”
She nods. “I believe we can be friendly without crossing that line into being personal with each other,” she states firmly. “And as your employee, I don't feel we should even approach that line, let alone cross it.”
I let out a sigh inwardly. She looks at me with a hard-edged resolve in her face. She is bound and determined to keep things purely professional. And while ordinarily, I have no problem with maintaining that line between employer and employee, there's something about Emily Hall that blurs that line for me. She's always been able to blur that line. She's the only woman who's ever been able to spin me around and cloud my thinking the way she does – an effect I'm appalled to find hasn't diminished one iota since college.
“Fair enough,” I say. “Apologies.”
“There's nothing to apologize for, Mr. Steel,” she says. “I just think it best, given our history, that we draw some very sharp and distinct boundaries.”
“You're absolutely right,” I confirm.
“Good. I'm glad you agree, and we have that cleared up,” she continues. “I think clearing the air between us as best as we can is a good thing.”
“As do I,” I respond. “But if I can make one request?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Of course.”
“Stop calling me Mr. Steel. It makes me feel old,” I laugh. “Just call me Aaron. Please.”
She opens her mouth, I know to protest that as being too personal, so I hold up my hand to stop that train before it even gets rolling.
“I ask that of every employee at Frontline,” I inform her. “There's not some special, personal, secret meaning or agenda. I just prefer to be called by my first name – by everybody.”
“Well, what about Lara? She never calls you Aaron.”
“You think I can ever tell her what to do?” I laugh. “Believe me, I ask her every day. But do you think you can do that?”
Her lips curl upward into a wry grin. “I can do that.”
“Excellent.”
I spend the next hour or so familiarizing her with the company a bit, as well as breaking down all of her duties and responsibilities as my personal assistant. She nods along, taking copious notes and asking a thousand questions – good questions. She has questions I never would have thought of, but are pretty important to her job, which is a good thing. Armed with that knowledge, we will very likely avoid some situations that could otherwise be tense.
Emily's always been incredibly bright and mentally quick. The years have only made her sharper. It again strikes me just how out of place here she is, doing this sort of work. With her intellect and drive, she should be doing something far more important. Something that will challenge and push her to excel and use that incredible brain of hers.
Which again, leaves me wanting to ask her how she ended up here. But I keep my mouth shut on that topic, knowing that she'll see it as a breach of that employer/employee boundary.
Emily Hall was one tough nut to crack back in college. The intervening years seem to have hardened her shell even more. But I'm not one who gives up easily when it comes to overcoming challenges that get in the way of something I want.
I don't know precisely what I want from Emily just yet, other than the chance to explore it. With her. She intrigues me as much today as she did back then. So, for now, I'll do what I did in college – bide my time and wait for my opening.
Chapter Twelve
Emily
Other than a few pictures, I've left my office pretty much as I found it. I don't want to allow myself to nest or grow too attached to the place yet – just in case I feel the need to bolt. I've been here about a week now and although things between Aaron and me have been fine, they haven't been great. There's still a strange tension that exists between us that I can't quite make myself get comfortable with.
