Ruth closed her fist around the keys. “It wasn’t nothing. You’ve done me a big favor—one well outside your job description—and I appreciate it.”

  “Okay.” Chloe offered a small smile.

  “Well.” Ruth stuffed the keys in her pants pocket. “I’d better get back.”

  “I’ll be here if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  Ruth regarded her assistant with wonder. She didn’t trust easily, but she knew in her bones that Chloe cared about her. “I’ll be okay. But thank you.”

  She took another sip of water and a few deep breaths. The next thirty minutes would be agony, but then she’d be free—and thanks to Chloe, she already felt better.

  * * *

  After the meeting, Zachary stuck around to pontificate on various topics until Ruth pointedly offered to walk him to his car. At last, he got the hint and sauntered out, thankfully declining the offer.

  Alone at last, Ruth kicked off her shoes and sank to the floor behind her desk, leaning against the wall. “Fuck,” she whispered, massaging her temples. Her nausea had receded, thanks to Chloe—but her insides ached, and she was still jittery.

  When the door opened, her head jerked up. Shit. She didn’t want Zachary to see her on the floor in a heap.

  “Ruth?” Chloe’s voice was soft.

  Relief washed through her. Chloe. Someone she trusted. “I’m here.”

  Chloe crept around the desk, face etched with worry. “Are you okay?” She knelt on the floor a few feet away.

  “I will be.” Her voice came out scratchy. Ruth cleared her throat. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Um.” Chloe blushed and looked down at the floor. Her bangs fell into her face, obscuring her eyes. “I didn’t want to leave before your meeting ended—in case you needed anything.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” Ruth hugged her knees. “I suppose you figured out what I’m taking?”

  Chloe hesitantly met Ruth’s gaze. “I know what it is. But I didn’t Google it—I swear. I took desvenlafaxine for a short time, so I recognized the name. It gave me insomnia, and then I switched to sertraline. I think maybe you saw the bottle a few weeks ago.”

  A stab of guilt reminded Ruth that she hadn’t said anything to reassure Chloe at the time. She hoped Chloe hadn’t spent these weeks worrying Ruth would judge her. “I’m sorry. I never meant to invade your privacy—”

  “It’s okay.” Chloe looked sheepish. “I dropped it right in front of you.”

  “Yes. Well.” Ruth wrung her hands. “If you’ve ever missed a dose, you have some sense of what I’ve been dealing with today.”

  “Absolutely.” Chloe settled on the floor. “The withdrawal is awful. My whole body feels nervous and sick, and I hurt everywhere. That’s why I keep a bottle in my purse.”

  “I used to keep a few pills here in my desk.” Ruth gestured at the drawer containing her personal items. “But then I ran out and never replenished them.” It occurred to her that Chloe had seen the entire contents of the drawer, and the inside of her purse…not to mention her house and bedroom. Warmth crept up her neck at the thought of Chloe in her private spaces. She hoped she hadn’t left panties on the floor—and that if she had, they weren’t granny panties.

  “You should pack a few pills tonight, in case this ever happens again.”

  “Good idea.” Ruth winced as pain shot through her head. “Sorry. Brain zap.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs, unable to get comfortable.

  Scooting next to her, Chloe took her hand.

  Ruth blinked at her.

  Chloe looked down at their joined hands. “Oh gosh. I’m sorry.”

  As Chloe started to withdraw her hand, Ruth tightened her grip. “No, it—it helps.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Chloe’s smaller hand was warm with a gentle but secure grip. The contact steadied Ruth.

  Chloe turned her head to meet Ruth’s gaze. “I hope you know this about me already, but I won’t tell anyone your private medical information. I promise.”

  “I appreciate it.” Ruth squeezed Chloe’s hand. “I’m not ashamed to take medication, but I’m sure you know it carries a certain stigma.”

  “Oh, for sure. I think that’s why I waited so long to get help with my anxiety. I was having panic attacks and missing class, but somehow I didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant professional help. So I tried to suck it up until—well, until I couldn’t anymore.”

  So, Chloe took the medication for anxiety, not depression. Her fidgeting and skittish behavior made more sense. Ruth wondered if her struggles had contributed to Chloe not continuing with school, despite her obvious interest in academics. “Was this in college?” Ruth asked gently.

  “No. I mean, yes.” She glanced away. “It was during college.” Chloe sat with her head bowed and a slight slump in her shoulders, still holding Ruth’s hand.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Ruth paused. “I hope you know by now that I’d never judge you or anyone for taking medication. Perhaps it goes without saying since I’m also on an SSRI, but…I wanted to say it.”

  Chloe gave her a grateful smile. “I really appreciate it.”

  Should Ruth share in return? She trusted so few people with her mental health history that hiding was a reflex. Chloe wouldn’t blab or react with scorn, but would she see Ruth differently?

  Ruth looked down at their linked hands, and then up at Chloe’s serious mouth and clear eyes beneath natural lashes. If opening up made Chloe feel less alone, it would be worth the risk. She took a deep breath. “I have depression. That’s why I take desvenlafaxine.”

  Chloe listened with an open gaze—questioning, but not pushing.

  “I went through a bad time in college, but it wasn’t until grad school that avoiding medication became…untenable.” Ruth ran her free hand up and down her shin as she spoke.

  “I’ve heard that lot of people struggle with mental health during PhD programs.”

  “That’s an understatement. Grad school is hell on mental health—not to mention physical and emotional health. My depression gets triggered by stress, and in grad school the stress was unrelenting.” Her muscles tensed as she remembered. “I had a very harsh advisor. Nothing was ever good enough for him, and he wasn’t shy about letting me know when I failed to meet his standards.”

  “Oh, that sounds awful.” Chloe looked genuinely devastated for her. “Was he your chair?”

  “Yes, he was.” Somewhere in her jumbled brain, Ruth noted Chloe’s easy invocation of the shorthand for dissertation committee chair.

  “You probably had to work with him, huh? Because of your topic?”

  “That’s right.” Another surprise. Most people thought grad students could simply switch advisors, but apparently, Chloe was well-read enough to know better. “I had classmates who talked about their advisors rubber-stamping whatever they wrote, but mine made me re-do my papers again and again. In my second year, I shut down. I spent days in bed, not dealing with anything. The work piled up, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I gained twenty pounds, and my doctor referred me to a psychiatrist.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Chloe tightened her grip on Ruth’s hand. “Is that when you started taking medication?”

  “Mm-hmm. It wasn’t the only intervention—I went to therapy, and I learned how to be more proactive in looking after my mental health. But the medication made a tremendous difference.”

  “I feel the same way. I mean, I’ve never had clinical depression—just straight-up anxiety. At the time, I didn’t even know they prescribed antidepressants for anxiety, but sertraline changed my life. I’m still anxious, of course, but it’s not overwhelming anymore. The medication keeps me healthy enough to avoid succumbing completely.”

  “Exactly.” Ruth marveled at the similarities in their stories.

  Chloe ran her thumb back and forth over the back of Ruth’s hand, sending goose bumps up Ruth’s arm.

  “How are you feeling?” Chloe asked.

  “Better.” It was true. Perhaps the medication was kicking in at last, or maybe it was Chloe’s touch and understanding helping Ruth to decompress. Whatever the reason, the worst was over. I’m okay.

  “Do you need a ride home?” Chloe asked.

  It was tempting. Ruth could relax in the passenger seat while she waited out the remaining symptoms. A ride would also mean more time with Chloe, prolonging the connection they’d formed that afternoon.

  Then she played it out. Chloe would insist on picking her up the next morning, and Ruth didn’t want to inconvenience her more than she already had. Chloe was still her assistant—and Ruth remembered all too well how Chloe had looked at her when she stepped out of the bathroom topless. The boundary between them had blurred, and Ruth had to be careful.

  “I’m okay,” Ruth said. “Truly. I should let you get home.” She pulled her hand back but then instantly missed the contact.

  “Okay. If you’re sure.” After wavering for a few seconds, Chloe pushed herself up. “It was nice to talk.”

  “Yes, it was.” Ruth looked up at her.

  They stared for a moment too long. This time Ruth wasn’t half-naked, but she felt no less exposed, and those hazel eyes were just as potent as they’d been on that day. Chloe looked at her as if she were a vision—not a rumpled academic slouching on the floor.

  When Ruth looked at Chloe, she didn’t see an employee. She saw a friend—and a beautiful, caring woman. It was hard to believe Ruth had once strode past Chloe’s desk with barely a glance in her direction. Now she couldn’t stop noticing her thoughtful eyes and sweet smile.

  Finally, Chloe tore her gaze away. She left and closed the door with a soft click.

  Ruth rested her head against the wall. God. What was happening between them?

  * * *

  Caitlyn’s phone chipped in the passenger seat. She pulled into the driveway and turned off the car—safety first—before checking the message.

  It was from Chloe:

  Ummmm explain this?

  There was a screenshot of a text from Ruth:

  Thank you again for today. I am sure you know I loathe being vulnerable at work. You were there for me without judgment, and your kindness got me through the afternoon. I won’t forget it.

  “Shit,” Caitlyn whispered. Now Chloe knew something had happened.

  She longed to respond with her own sentiments—to thank Ruth for her trust and to provide reassurance. But she couldn’t send the message through Chloe, compromising Ruth’s privacy. Caitlyn typed back:

  I helped Ruth with something today. No big deal. Don’t worry about it.

  Chloe’s response came right away.

  What did you help her with?

  Caitlyn should have known her sister wouldn’t be satisfied. She would have to be more direct.

  I can’t say because it’s personal. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.

  Seriously? She thought she was telling ME.

  While technically Chloe was correct, the relationship Caitlyn had with Ruth was fundamentally different. Ruth never would have opened up to the real Chloe about something so personal. Caitlyn typed back,

  I’m sorry. I can’t.

  Chloe sent a frowny emoji. WTF am I supposed to write back?

  Sighing, Caitlyn started to type a response.

  I’m here for you. She deleted it, typed a new version, and then repeated this process until she settled, unhappily, on something both Ruth and Chloe could read.

  Thank you. I’m glad I could help.

  Maybe in a couple of weeks, she could give Ruth her “new” phone number. If she stayed that long. Of course, at some point, she’d have to get back to her real life and the academic job market.

  Who was she kidding? Caitlyn had no intention of leaving in such a short time. Lying to Ruth was bad enough—she couldn’t abandon her. After all, they were just starting the retention initiative. Ruth needs me. And some part of her needed Ruth too. Caitlyn would stay until she absolutely had to go.

  Chapter 14

  “Anything else we should discuss?” Jack tapped his pen on the table in a rapid patter.

  Ruth set down her notepad. “I think that’s enough budget for a Friday afternoon. I’ll see you tonight at trivia.”

  “Shit.” Jack leaned back in his chair. “That’s tonight?”

  “Yes. It’s the first Friday of the month.”

  “Damn—you’re right. Well, I can’t come anyway.”

  “Oh, come on.” Ruth smacked the table. “Ah. Sorry.” She drew her hand back and curled her fingers. “It’s just that we need you on geography. Beverly already dropped out. If you don’t come, it will just be me and Piper.”

  “My daughter has a swim meet.” Jack had the decency to look apologetic. “I’ll be there next month.”

  “The faculty will crush us. Again.” Ruth could already picture their smug faces.

  “Sorry.” Jack stood and pushed in his chair. “Hey, it’s the middle of summer. Maybe they’ll have attendance problems too.”

  “No. They enjoy beating us too much.” Ruth realized she sounded excessively bitter. “Not that winning matters, of course. I only go to support the scholarship.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure.” Jack clearly wasn’t fooled. He’d seen Ruth play enough times to know better.

  Ruth sighed. “Good luck to your daughter.”

  “Thanks. Good luck tonight.” He walked out.

  Luck won’t be enough. Ruth needed more players. She squinted at the wall that separated her office from the front lobby.

  Chloe had come through for her yesterday, and they’d shared a moment of genuine connection. Still, the text message Chloe had sent afterwards gave Ruth pause.

  I’m glad I could help.

  It was polite but distant, with no reciprocation of the sentiment Ruth had conveyed. If they’d been dating, Ruth would have interpreted the message as a sign to back off. Even though they weren’t dating, of course—a ridiculous notion—it had given Ruth a sour feeling.

  Would an invitation to trivia make Chloe uncomfortable? While the event was for college scholarships, it was held at a bar after work—not exactly a professional setting. Still, how intimate could it be with Piper in attendance? If anything, Chloe might feel a bit like the third wheel since she and Piper were such good friends.

  With a determined nod, Ruth pushed to her feet and walked out to the lobby.

  Chloe sat hunched over her keyboard, squinting at the monitor. The screen displayed a pivot table in Microsoft Excel. Even on a Friday afternoon, Chloe was working.

  “Chloe?”

  Chloe jumped. “Oh! Sorry. I was…absorbed.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “Maybe.” Chloe’s eyes sparkled. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Ruth lost herself in Chloe’s eager gaze before she remembered her purpose. “Are you free tonight?”

  “I…” Chloe sucked in a breath. “Yes?”

  Shit. Ruth tensed as she realized how it sounded. “No! Uh, I mean, there’s a monthly fundraiser at Flannigan’s for the first-generation scholarship fund. It’s a trivia game, with teams of up to six people. We have a team of administrators who play, but we’re down to just me and Piper for tonight. Of course, there’s no pressure to come, but—”

  “I’d love to come.” Chloe sat up straight and clasped her hands. “Should I bring cash?”

  “I’ll cover the donation. All we need is your knowledge of pop culture. I know you keep up with all of that celebrity news—between you and Piper, we’ll win that round for sure.” While Chloe had been more interested in spreadsheets in recent weeks, Ruth had caught her browsing entertainment websites on multiple occasions when she’d first started. Chloe could be their secret weapon.

  Chloe’s smile faded. “Oh. I don’t really know that much. I mean, I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  “Nonsense. It’s for a good cause. Of course, I’d love to beat the faculty, but with only three people we’re just hoping for a respectable performance.”

  “We play the faculty?”

  “Well, yes. Other people play too—it’s open to anyone—but some faculty go every month. Sometimes they have enough people for two teams. They’re big supporters of the scholarship program.” And they love to gloat when they win.

  “Hmm. That makes it even more interesting. What time?”

  “Six o’clock. Parking is tight, so we usually ride over together in my car. Then I’ll drop you and Piper back here when we’re done.”

  “Okay.” Chloe beamed, and Ruth knew she’d made the right decision.

  Satisfied, Ruth walked back into her office and retrieved her phone from the conference table.

  There was a new text from Piper:

  Madeline isn’t feeling well. I’m going to have to skip trivia tonight.

  Ruth clutched her phone to her chest. “Oh no.” Without Piper, she would be there with Chloe…alone…at a bar.

  Should she rescind the invitation?

  No. She couldn’t turn around and cancel just because Piper couldn’t come; that would give Chloe the idea that Ruth didn’t want to spend time with her—or worse, that Ruth was afraid to spend time alone with her.

  Nothing inappropriate had happened between them. Nothing ever would. Therefore, there was no reason she couldn’t attend with Chloe.

  So why was her heart thumping against her ribcage, her pulse so loud she could hear it in her ears?

  * * *

  Caitlyn speed-scrolled through the Entertainment Weekly website, frantically attempting to absorb a decade’s worth of pop culture knowledge in less than an hour. Two actors were rumored to be dating. Was that important? Caitlyn had never heard of them.