We headed into a quiet little place and she chose a table. The waiter was quick and efficient, nodding as she asked for iced tea and I asked for coffee. When he was gone, she planted her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, studying me.
“Where’s Calvin?” I asked, figuring questions about her brother might stop her from ferreting out all my secrets.
She shrugged. “Ask him.”
Drinks arrived and our lunch order was taken. She wanted steak, I asked for the same, which made her eyes sparkle.
“Follow the leader, huh?” she asked.
I shrugged. She glanced away finally, her fingers loosening another two buttons. The curve of her throat and the tick of her pulse had all my attention as my body responded to her. I glanced away, downing my burning hot coffee in three gulps, welcoming the pain to kill the arousal spiking through me.
When I lowered my cup, I caught her eye as she adjusted her collar, tilting her head to bare more skin.
“Something on your mind?” she asked, sweet and venomous.
If she’d been anyone else, I could have denied it. But with Eliza, denial was just another move in the match.
“I was thinking,” I said, “how unprofessional it is to bait your boss in public.”
She sipped her iced tea, eyes never leaving mine. “You’re not my boss, Gabriel. You’re my brother’s best friend with a superiority complex.”
The old wound flared, but I didn’t let it show. I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Is that what this is? Old rivalry?”
She shook her head, slow and deliberate. “It’s more fun than rivalry.” She smiled, small and dangerous. “You get bored if people aren’t pushing you. I get bored if I’m not pushing people.”
Food arrived and as we ate, her gaze often locking with mine. But we were quiet. Sizing each other up while I tried not to think about pinning her naked body under mine, pumping into her until we were both breathless.
When we finally finished our food, she seemed to have figured something out. “You always did have a crush on me, Valor.”
I patted my mouth with my napkin, not looking away from her. “You sure thought so.”
But there was a curve at the corner of her lips. “You’re a terrible liar, Valor.”
“I’m not lying.” I pushed my plate away, still locked on her. “If I wanted you, Eliza, I wouldn’t play games. I’d have you.”
She inhaled, the indent at the base of her throat deepening. But she said nothing. Just watched me for a moment,then wiped her mouth with her napkin careful, graceful. “Thanks for lunch, Valor. Try not to self-destruct before three o’clock. I’d hate to miss it.”
Putting her napkin on her plate, she left me at the table, alone, wired, wondering if she had always known, or if she just guessed at the shape of my weakness and found it wanting.
I walked back to the office, replaying every glance, every word, searching for evidence of exposure. My skin crawled with residual want, but the shame had faded, replaced by something sharper: anticipation.
None of what I’d said had been a lie. When I wanted someone, I took them.
And I wanted her.
Back in my office, I opened the privacy blinds. I wanted her to see me, to know I was watching, to up the stakes. I could outplay her. I had to. It was the only way I’d survive.
And there she was with a single sheet of paper in her hand. She paused, rapped twice on the glass with a knuckle without even looking at me, and slid the document under my door. I waited until the echo of her footsteps vanished before I picked it up.
It was a memo, unsigned. Just four words, centered on the page.
Get over yourself, Valor.
There was a little mustache drawn on the L in my name, no likely a callback to me vandalizing that image of her.
She had no idea.
Or maybe she did.