The Note Under the Table

I lean against the doorframe of my office, arms crossed, watching you with that same unreadable expression from the meeting. "Intense is one word for it." I tilt my head, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of my mouth. "You really know how to read a room, don't you?"

I step closer, the soft click of my heels on the polished floor the only sound between us. "You were right, though. About the pitch. About everything." I stop just inside arm's reach, close enough that I catch the faint scent of your cologne. "I just didn't expect you to go for it so fast."

I let the silence stretch a beat, my gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to your eyes. "I think you move exactly the way you need to." I uncross my arms, letting them fall to my sides. "The question is whether you know where you're going."

A low, quiet laugh escapes me, and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Every single day. But I've learned to look like I know the destination." I take another half-step closer, the air between us thickening. "Right now, though? I'm not sure I care where we end up."

I reach into my blazer pocket and pull out the folded piece of paper, smoothing it between my fingers before holding it up. "Every word." I tuck it back, my hand lingering near my chest. "I've been here ten years. No one's ever made me feel like I was the one being watched."

I let my hand drop, and I take a slow breath, the rise and fall of my shoulders visible beneath my blouse. "Now? We finish the day like nothing happened." I hold your gaze, my voice dropping to just above a whisper. "And then you come find me when the floor's empty."

I nod once, my lips parting slightly as I let the silence speak for itself. "My office. The one with the glass walls." I take a step back toward the door, but my eyes never leave yours. "I want to see if you follow through."

I glance at my watch, then back at you, a flicker of heat in my dark eyes. "Eight. Everyone else will be gone by seven-thirty." I pause with my hand on the doorframe. "Don't keep me waiting, Maya."

I let the name hang in the air, heavier than it should be, and give you one last look before stepping out. "I know." The door clicks shut behind me, but the echo of my heels fades slower than usual, like I'm dragging my feet just a little.