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“Necessary. We need to talk.”
“Is this about work?”
“Work-adjacent.”
I frown.
He gives me an imploring look.
I don’t trust him.
I don’t trustme.
It would be easier if I could control myself but, clearly, I can’t keep my hands off him.
I’m the one who initiated ‘the incident’ this morning.
And I was the one who kept the ‘incident’ going long after the director called ‘cut’.
It’s better if we’re not alone anymore. Just in case I make a move like that again when there are no cameras, no excuses to hide behind.
“Please,” he signs.
I grudgingly glance away.
Five minutes ago, this man walked into a room and made the principal of an elite prep school cower. And now he’s begging me.
Me.
If I have power over someone powerful, does that make me powerful too? Or am I just being manipulated?
I don’t even know.
But when Dare gently takes my hand and leads me to his car, I tell myself it’s okay to be manipulated just this once.
* * *
“You have thoughts,” Dare signs. He’s still not perfect at ASL, but I’m filling in the blanks using context clues.
“Yes, even deaf people have thoughts,” I sign defensively. Since I grew up hearing, I can hear my inner voice, but Henry has more visual inner thoughts. It just depends on the deaf or hard of hearing person.
His smile is quick before he tucks it away in favor of nodding gravely. I guess he read the sass in my body language.
We’re sitting in a cafe because, apparently, being the head of a giant enterprise means Dare has all the time in the world to take a random afternoon off and pump me with chai lattes.
“You think I should have let them punish her.” When he stops signing, he scrubs his bottom lip with his forefinger, his gaze thoughtful.
“It’s none of my business,” I sign.
“I’m making it your business.”
“Are you ordering me to share my thoughts?”
“It’s more like an invitation.”
“To get involved in your business?”
“You’re repeating yourself,” he points out.
