Fade In (18 page)

“Want to sit for a minute before we head back? I think this is the turnaround point.” He walks to the built-in seat that's made from the same type of rock that lines the walls and floors. Brushing off room for both of us, he sits and pats for me to join.

“Thanks for taking me out today.” I know he didn't mean to piss me off earlier. I think he really did mean what he said about not trying to upset me. I get so emotional around him. Okay, I'm just emotional.

“You're welcome. You're fun to be with. Nothing like my slave-driving boss.” He bumps his shoulder into mine, telling me that he's just kidding. This is another Ben Harris signature mannerism.

I nudge him back, playing along. “That's good to hear. You do bring up a good point though. I'm your boss. What is this going to be like tomorrow?” This has been sitting in the back of my mind all day. “I mean, how does this work?”

“I don't know, Tatum. I know you're my boss. I intend on maintaining a professional relationship with you when I'm working. I also know that you just got out of a relationship. Plus, I know that you're a busy woman. The last thing I know is that, even though you hate to admit it, you're dealing with a lot of changes right now. You see, I know all of these things.”

“All true. But...?”

“But I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've never met anyone like you, Tatum. You're funny and sexy. I can't help it. I'm crazy attracted to you. I want you.”

Relief and something close to excitement roll through my body. I wanted to hear those words. I'm crazy attracted to him, too. But everything else he said is also true. Only a week or so ago, I was in a long-term relationship with Kurt. And all of the other points he made were just as valid.

“So what does all that mean? What do you want me to say? That you’re right about all of that?” We sit here for a few more seconds, and everything in my body screams to say more.

“You don't have to say anything. Don't think that this is an offer that will expire. It won't. When you're ready for me, I'll still be here. I'm a patient man, baby.”

I don’t have a chance to think about what he just said, because the lights flicker on, then off, and then on again.

All at once, the walls above and around where we couldn't see with just the lantern are ablaze. It is breathtaking.

The ceiling is probably a hundred feet high or even more. All around us are glittering flecks—millions of perfectly cut diamonds adhering to the walls—and they were here this whole time, just beyond our sight.

I'm on my feet, head lifted towards the epicenter of the grand, shimmering kaleidoscope above us. I can't tear my eyes away. It is mesmerizing. Every color in the rainbow is shining like I've never seen before. It's breathtaking.

Finally, after having my fill, I can sense Ben's warm body behind mine. I pivot all the way around to find him gazing upward like I just was. Then, without thinking at all, I wrap my arms around him tightly. I cling to him like ink to paper. It's not a decision. I need to feel him. To touch him. Even though I can't say what I'm feeling, I can show him with my body, and I hold on tighter than I ever have before.

Without hesitation, his return embrace wraps me like a blanket.

“Thank you,” I say into to his chest, overwhelmed.

“Tatum, just because something is in the dark doesn't mean it won't shine.”

Ben didn’t kiss me after our date. I mean, I don't know if I was really expecting him to or not, but I guess we agreed that it was best we keep things professional—at least for now. He did tell me that I had to ask him out for our next date and that he'd go whenever, wherever I chose.

I have to think about that.

He comes every morning with breakfast and coffee, and he even rides with me to work most days for us to the discuss things that need to be done. The shower is coming along great and is fast approaching this weekend. The past three weeks have gone by so fast.

With network sweeps week and the Just Kidding finale fast on our heels, and so too our hiatus for the summer, things at work are busier than ever. The Devons consistently bring their A-games. Even Winnie, with her wedding just around the corner, is ever present and focused.

To our surprise, Chel-Ro's people call Wes and she wants to be a part of the show's finale. We say yes, of course. It will be a great flip for her to publicly bust us for poking fun at her recent proclivities. Honestly, we don't care where the laughs come from, as long as they show up. We are fine with the joke being on us.

I visited Dr. Mead the week after our trip to No Diamond and told him about what we saw. He was really interested in the changes I had made in such a short time and was pleased to hear of my getting more help. Of course, he asked a lot of questions about Ben since I mentioned him in every other sentence. Dr. Meade dropped his retinoscope when I told him that Ben had called him Mark. He thought it was funny.

He noticed more degeneration, but it was small and the difference only minimally noticeable to me.

It was a good visit.

He wasn't particularly happy to hear that I hadn’t gone to the hospital when I hurt my ribs, but he affirmed they wouldn't have done much anyway.

See? I know what I'm talking about after all. My ribs, although at times still tender, are doing much better and I've been feeling great.

Luckily, I've managed to avoid any major accidents lately, and I can only hope that it means I'm either getting better at this whole blind thing or Ben has secretly been moving all of my furniture a centimeter a day into safer positions.

Either way, I am cool with it. Ben's so helpful. And kind. And handsome. And every day I'm with him, I like him more.

Sure, he's sexy. He's always been sexy, but now it's like as much as I am attracted to his body, I'm attracted to his personality. The way he licks his thumb when he's cooking drives me insane. The way he tries to be subtle when he tells me that he doesn't have any plans on the weekend compels me to scribble our names together with hearts, like I’m back in junior high. The way he leaves Post-it Notes all over my condo with reminders makes me feel treasured.

My favorites are, “You look so ‘'professional’ in the blue dress,” and the one he left last night—”Remember that time you called me to thank me for the chili? You should thank me for the chicken I left in the oven tonight.”

Don't be mistaken. I've almost dialed his number at night with the sole intention of letting him talk me into a climax like he almost did only a month ago, but what if it gets messy? Not my orgasm, but our working relationship? I'm comfortable the way things are. He has his place in my life and I have mine in his.

Boss and employee.

Employee and horny-as-hell, needs-to-get-laid boss. That's a bit more accurate.

I haven't called Kurt to take him up on the offer of the one last shag for old time’s sake, but I'm not too proud to do it if I don't figure something out.

Then again, here I am at work, thinking about Ben. Sitting at my desk, having a minute to myself. Daydreaming about his gorgeous hands. Thinking about having them roaming all over my body.

In the shower. Yeah. Oh, God.

Or maybe he bends me over my counter, works my dress up to my waste, and fucks me right there in the kitchen.

“Tatum! Shit. Hello?!” Winnie shouts even though she's standing right in front of me.

I've done it again. I'm in fantasy land and totally zoned out.

She startles me and I jump, knocking my phone's handset off the receiver. Catching it, I think I need to lock my door more often. That bitch walks in at the worst moments.

“What? What!”

She tries to hide her laugh with her hand but fails. “Hey, are you sleeping with your eyes open? You look freaky when you do that. You need to get some lovin'. You're all washed up.” She's right. I'm edgy and tense, wound up tighter than Richard Simmons's perm.

“Shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business for once. Please, Gwendolyn. Damn!” I grunt like a grumpy cavewoman. I'm also sensitive about my lack of orgasmic activity, I guess.

Winnie sits in the chair in front of my desk and makes her know-it-all ass comfortable. “Hey, is Ben coming to the couples shower party thing this weekend?”

That's a good question. I don't really think we've ever talked about it. I mean, I might need him. I'm not sure what for, because the whole thing is pretty much taken care of. The fantastic little band that Ben finally talked me into had been paid and he's called to confirm everything down to the decorators. It's pretty much on autopilot from here on out.

“I don't know. Did you invite him?” I ask her in response as I right the shit I misplaced when she bitchslapped me out of my naughty thoughts. Let's see how she plays this.

“Well, actually that's what I'm in here about. Cooper and I would love to invite him if you're not brining him. We really like him, and he's going to be around for a while. Most of the people from the office and Cooper’s work will be there. We'd love for him to come. So are you going to ask him or do you want us to?” She raises her eyebrow, and I know she's not going to let up. Shit. I knew she would to turn this around on me somehow. She's tricky, that one.

I play it off. “Yeah, I'll ask him. No big deal.” No big shit. Who cares?

Oh, no. Now Winnie has that look. The face of ‘can we chitchat and decide what's best for one of us?’ twists into her brow. Even worse, she gets up and shuts my door. Here we go. She resettles herself in her chair.

“Tate, what the hell are you doing?” I can tell she's concerned and not just being nosy. She's my best friend, but the truth is that I have not a fucking clue what I'm doing.

“What are you talking about? I'm working. Something you should be doing. Don't you have, like, five scenes tomorrow?”

That pisses her off. I know because her tongue goes straight behind her bottom lip and paces back and forth while she nods.

Classic ‘pissed Winnie’ move. Good. Maybe she'll go away.

She says nothing and just keeps staring. Her perfectly sculpted brows rise, and I think the left one is twitching just a bit.

“What, Winnie? What? Spit it out.”

“What's going on with you? Why haven't you asked Ben out? You said that he told you he wasn't going to ask you out again, that you had to ask him. So what's the dealio, Amilio? He's hot. He's into you. He's hot!”

I count off on one hand. “He works for me. I just got out of a relationship. I barely know the guy outside of the fact that he is great at time management and he has impeccable phone skills.” That last bit made me blush. Almost-phone-sex talk aside, he really is quite proficient and well spoken in a professional capacity, and that's what I meant. Okay, well I meant it both ways. “It's so messy.”

“Who cares! He's amazing. You are constantly in here having fantasy fellatio hour with him in your under-sexed mind. Don't think I don't know how twisted you are, Ms. Elliott.” She's goading me well. “I can see right through you. You check your messages more than ever. You answer ALL of his calls.”

I blow up. “He works for me!” I look around and out my window to make sure no one heard me. “Okay, he's great. He's made my life so easy lately. But what would I do if we
did
start seeing each other and it didn't work out? Huh? What about that!? What would I do then, if you know so much?” I can't control my hands. They are flailing about like Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance's feet. “How would I do this without him? He knows what I need before I tell him. Hell, before I even know I need it! Where will I be if I screw this up?”

If she didn't know how seriously I was into him ten minutes ago, she does now. I haven't gone crazy like this since ‘N Sync broke up. I try to catch my breath after I lose my shit, and I tone it down a notch while Winnie just looks at me.

I whisper, “What if I just push him away, too? What if I become a burden? What if he just feels sorry for me?”

“Is that what you think? You think he just feels sorry for you?” Winnie comes around my desk and sits on my lap. “Oh, baby girl. You're so fucking blind!”

I smack her arm rather roughly. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“Ouch! Hey! Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I meant, you have to at least give it a shot. Yeah, he is your personal assistant, but has he been weird or awkward since your last date?”

“No. Not really.”

“Well what makes you think that it wouldn't just be okay?”

“It would be weird to pay someone I'm dating to do my shit, Winnie.”

She snorts a laugh. “Yeah, that would be weird, but don't get ahead of yourself. Go out on a few dates. Bring him to the shower. As your date. Let him hump your brains out! Tatum, I'm really about to do you. If you don't go out with Ben, I'm going to break it off with Cooper and make you my lesbian hostage.”

“You're batshit crazy. Get off me.” I try to shove her.

“You'll do it? You're going to ask him out?”

She is so annoying, but I know she's a little right. Just a little. “Yes. I'll ask him.”

“When? You're going to chicken out. I know it. Call him and do it right now. While I'm in here. I want to hear you do it.”

She has a good point. I probably would chicken out. I'd probably just text him something un-sweet like, “Hey, want to go the thing with me?”