To have Cat for my lover, I would have given up a great deal. I acknowledged that to myself. She made me feel alive, awake, made me want again. It didn’t bear thinking about that what I wanted from Cat wasn’t just sex. I craved connection. I craved her words, her facial expressions, her laughter. I craved all of her.
9
Cat
My friend Sarah Jo thought it was insane that I had flirted with my boss over a sexual harassment policy lunch meeting, but she already knew I was crazy to start with. She told me to go for it. Of course, she was always good at wanting other people to be happy, taking care of her friends and family before herself. So if I was having earth-shaking orgasms with my famous boss, maybe she’d feel like that was one more person she could check off of her list whose happiness she thought she was responsible for.
Work in HR was at a fever pitch. We were constantly researching, interviewing consultants and working on copy for our revamped policies. Lunch had become salads eaten out of plastic containers with one hand while on the phone or tablet. I went out with Heather and some other friends a few times, once to a paint and wine party that involved a lot more wine than decent artwork. Predictably, Blandy had never called me back, which was fine by me. One of the guys who frequented the coffee place near my apartment had asked me out. I had managed a halfhearted refusal about how I was busy with work. The truth was, I loved my job. My coworkers were smart and interesting, and I liked hanging out with them. And all the sexual tension and excitement I needed was available in the executive suite.
I had only sat in on one other meeting with Brent. He spent a lot of time closeted with legal and the COO. Kim referred to it as crisis mode. When she went to his office, she was summoned alone. New hires didn’t get to tag along so at the end of the day on a Thursday, I grabbed a flyer for a new client discount at a chiropractor and rode up in the elevator.
Brent and I had barely spoken in over a week. A hello in the hallway, a nod. Part of me was smug that I had managed not to sleep with him the day we went to lunch since clearly, it was a whim and not a lasting interest in who I was. The rest of me knew he was busy and stubbornly believed there was a connection between us, however unlikely and fast that might seem to the rational part of my brain.
Millie was away from her desk, so I buzzed his office myself and said it was important; that I had something to deliver in person. He told me to press the button on the underside of Millie’s desk and come in. He was alone.
Brent stood when I entered. He was wearing a suit, of course, and his hair was slightly disheveled—that face, so familiar from pictures, so much more gorgeous and mobile in person, made me stop and stare. He was even taller than I remembered, bigger somehow. He was imposing even though he had loomed large in my memory all that time.
“Good afternoon, Cat. What important message are you here to deliver?”
“This,” I said, holding out the flier. He chuckled and tossed it on his desk, which was far more cluttered with papers and electronic devices than when I’d visited previously.
“You look tired,” I said, taking a step closer. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
“It’s been a long… week? Has it been longer than that?” he said, sounding exhausted.
I went to him then and looked up into his face, the lines around his eyes, the hint of disappointment or sadness there. I didn’t reach for him and hold him, though I wanted to. He wasn’t mine to hold. He wasn’t mine at all so I touched his face. He flinched at first, then his eyes dropped shut. He let me lay my hand on his cheek. My fingers stroked the hair at his temple, and he sighed.
Brent took his hands from his pockets. His hand closed around my wrist, held my hand to his face for an instant before pushing me away.
“Not a good idea,” he said, “but thank you.”
Something, some feeling welled in me then. I wondered how long it had been since anyone had touched him with affection, with consideration, or at all. I longed to put my arms around him. But he had put me away, and I had to walk the walk on consent as well. No matter what I wanted or how strongly I wanted him.
“You’re not even going to read the top-secret information I brought you?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“If you think you need an excuse to come to my office and see me, you’re wrong.”
“If you believe that, you’re wrong that secretary has turned me away this week already, said you were busy.”
“I was busy. But I would have seen you anyway.”
“Why?” I said before I could stop myself.
“Because we’re friends, remember?” he said lightly.
“I seem to remember something about that, but I don’t know if Millie gives a crap if I think we’re friends.”
He buzzed his secretary and asked her to come in. Millie rushed in, tablet in hand, ready for instructions.
“Millie, this is Cat Sherman from HR. She’s working on a special project for me so she’ll need to be admitted to my office regardless of my schedule until further notice.”
“Yes, sir,” Millie said. “Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you. Feel free to go home early. Put the phones on voicemail. It’s been a long week.”
“Yes, it has. You should get some rest,” she said, concern on her face. He gave a shrug, and she closed the door as she left.
“Special project?” I giggled.
“Yes, you’re finding me the best chiropractor in the city. This pamphlet is only the first of your research artifacts. You have to keep me updated daily on your progress.”
“Daily? As in you want to see me every day?” I said, almost in disbelief.
“I’ve wanted to see you every day,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m sure you sat in meetings with the COO and all those other initials and thought, oh I wish that new girl from HR was here,” I laughed.
“You have no idea,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes dark.
“Oh really?” I said, sitting down in a chair. I tried to make it casual, but my knees had forgotten how not to buckle when he said that, so it was more out of necessity.
Brent came around his desk. I saw the growth of stubble I’d felt with my palm and fingers, saw that he hadn’t been sleeping. This was tearing him up, this breach of ethics that threatened his company. I saw that he couldn’t play fast and loose with sexual harassment rules, bend those policies just to get with me. I knew it was too risky, especially with the current legal wrangling hanging over his head. He didn’t know if I was an opportunist hoping to blackmail him.
“Brent,” I said soberly. “I love the banter, but I need to be serious for a second.”
He stood in front of me, leaned against his desk, “Shoot,” he said.
“I wouldn’t—talk about you. Or anything you said or that we did together. I’m not going to be someone who takes advantage of you that way.”
He smiled and nodded. “I’m a grown man. If I take risks, it is because I choose to take them. Of course, you could be a danger to me. You have the power to ruin my reputation, my company if you wanted, but you’ve given me no indication that you want to destroy anything.”