At least she called him by his name.

  By that evening, Therese was beyond exhausted; as well as beyond grateful to find herself at home, standing in the center of the spare bedroom in her apartment that doubled as an informal inventory closet.

  Their four man clean-up crew had just completed unloading the last of the materials before Luis and Beth had needed to call it a night and make it back to their home.

  David had walked them to her apartment’s exit and she assumed he’d left with them. Placing her hands on her back, she arched, letting loose a loud groan that barely masked the cracks betraying her forty-one year old frame.

  “I’ll ditto that,” David said from behind her.

  She spun around, her mouth forming an ‘O’ as he leaned, lazily, against the door jamb, regarding her.

  “Oh, hey. Yeah, these bones aren’t as young as they used to be,” she chuckled, ambling back around to face the chaos that awaited her attention.

  The racks of habitually overflowing gray shelving felt oddly bare. At their feet, however, was a mess—an orderly mess composed of all the items she generally provided for her events. Everything was in the right area, she just needed to take the time to put things into their specific spots.

  Tomorrow. She could do it tomorrow. Hadn’t she done enough today?

  Her shoulders sagged.

  No, if she didn't do it tonight it’d take forever for her to get to it. And before she knew it, her next event would be upon her and she’d be cursing out “past-Therese”.

  “What’s next?” David asked, striding up to stand beside her, arms folded.

  “Just organization,” she groaned. “Nothing you need to worry about, Dav–” she closed her eyes and grimaced. Apparently, a few hours of calling him by his first name had overridden weeks of doing otherwise.

  “Mr. Lin, thank you for your help today.” She looked up at him, a soft smile on her face. “I do genuinely appreciate it.”

  David met her gaze for long moments.

  He turned back to look at the boxes and bags that sat in different sections of the room.

  “It was my pleasure, Miss Williams. But,” he said, walking over to pick up a plastic bag. He opened it and pulled out a clipboard. “I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I left the damsel in a heap of inventory.” He peeked up to look at her, a smirk on his face. “Now would I?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. Walking over to him, she plucked the item from his hand.

  “You are a stubborn one, aren't you?”

  “Nah, just persistent,” he smiled.

  She shrugged and let out a deep breath. “Alright,” she said, handing the clipboard back to him.

  She turned and stepped over packages as she navigated her way past bags and boxes. Finally, she stood with hands on hips on the other side of the room.

  She pointed to the shelves near where he stood. “Everything’s labeled, so it should be pretty easy to put items back where they go. But just let me know if you have any questions.”

  He nodded.

  A moment later, he cleared his throat.

  “Question.”

  “Yep?” she responded, not skipping a beat as she opened a box and returned its contents to its proper storage bin on the shelf.

  “Why won’t you call me by my first name?”

  Her movements halted for the slightest moment, then she resumed.

  “Why is it so important that I call you by your first name?”

  She looked over her shoulder. He, too, was still busying himself with stocking items. She turned back to her task.

  “It’s not that it’s important. It’s just…I like it when you call me by first name.”

  “It’s unprofessional.”

  “Mrs. Travis didn’t think so.”

  “Mrs. Travis is married and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t consider dating a younger man.”

  “What does calling me by my first name have to do with dating and marriage, Miss Williams?”

  She paused.

  Damn.

  “Nothing. It’s just my preference, okay?” she said, resuming her task.

  “Okay,” he responded.

  She looked over her shoulder, and he was still placing items in their respective bins.

  Should she tell him that she didn’t want them to get confused about their roles?

  That she was already confused.

  She turned back and opened another box.

  “Question.”

  She halted, straightening.

  Was this what this evening was going to be like?

  “What’s your favorite movie to watch on the weekend?”

  Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “You won’t laugh if I’m honest with you?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  She laughed out loud.

  “Okay, I don’t often watch the same film repeatedly. But one movie I make an exception for from time to time is ‘Galaxy Quest’”

  “I love that movie!” he exclaimed, spinning around to face her.

  “Really?” she laughed, turning around, as well.

  “Yeah,” he exclaimed with a wide-mouthed grin. “Who’s your favorite character?”

  “You first,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  “Okay, Fred, by far.”

  “Fred,” she said, her voice trailing off as she looked away.

  Who was Fred?

  “Fred! Played by none other than Tony Shalhoub! Are you sure you’re a fan?”

  She laughed. “You know, I never pay attention to his name. That’s the thing. He’s like the ‘Guy’ of the movie.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I got that vibe, too. Another great character, by the way.”

  “My favorite one.”

  “He’s probably my second favorite. But Tony’s portrayal of a character who had so few lines.” He gathered his fingers, brought them to his lips and kissed them as he flicked open his hand. “Magnifique.”

  “You might be convincing me to rethink my priorities, there,” she laughed.

  “No, Guy deserves superfans, too. You take Guy. I’ll take Fred.”

  “Deal,” she said, a grin on her face as he turned around. Watching his back for a few seconds she bit her bottom lip and spun on her heel to return to her own sections.

  They worked in silence for a while. Their background music was the sound of fingers brushing against cardboard, plastic rustling, bins sliding out and into their place. Sooner than she would have thought possible, they were side by side, each finishing up the last sections.

  “Question.”

  “Yes?” she sighed, smirking.

  “What drew you to this field?” David asked, as he emptied another bag of its contents.

  She turned to look up at him, one hand on her hip, her head tilted as she considered her response.

  “I like to create things, I guess,” she answered, smiling. “ I have an eye for that. And I like to eat, as is probably obvious,” she chuckled.

  He stopped his cataloging and turned to face her. His eyes raked her body. “Not to your detriment, at all, Miss Wiliams,” he said, folding his lips in to lick them. He cleared his throat and turned his profile to her, resuming the motions of sorting.

  She blinked. Dear Lord, the look in his eyes before he’d turned away. She licked her own lips, mirroring his actions as she turned to her own task.

  “So, that’s really what got things started. I helped out with family members’ parties. Then friends and friends of friends. At first it was all for fun. They’d pay for the food and any staff I needed, and that was it. Till someone inquired about my prices, one day. That’s when it dawned on me that I could make a business out of this. That, maybe, I could make a living doing what I enjoy! But the profit margin is small, depending on the crowd. I knew I had to expand into bigger markets. Howards gave me my first big chance.”

  “The banquet? That was your first big event? I’m impressed. You seem to be very much in your element, navigating grand parties.”

  “Oh, goodness, no. Those events…those people intimidate the heck out of me. But those are the kinds of events where I can really let my creativity shine. Hard to say ‘no’ to that chance. Or to the paycheck,” she laughed. “I’m more of an artist than I am a business woman. But I have to play the roles given me. Even the parts that don’t come naturally. Hopefully, eventually, they will.

  “In the meantime,” she continued, “I can at least say I’ve done something exciting during my weekend. You know, when people ask that question. Now, on occasion, I’ll be able to tell them I did more than enjoy the comfort of my home…which is really an ideal weekend, in my opinion.”

  He hummed, “Yeah, I get that. I’m more of a homebody, Miss Williams. Takes a lot to get me out to those events.”

  She spun around, a wide, open smile stretching her lips. “I was already surprised that you came to mine! And now, I’m truly honored,” she said, playfully placing her hand upon her heart.

  “Well, I didn’t come for the food, though I knew that’d be spectacular.”

  He turned, his eyes skipping from the braids she’d let fall across her shoulders, to the eyes staring back at him, to the cheeks that she could feel growing warm. His eyes settled upon her lips and he was silent for what felt like an eternity.

  His jaw muscles jerked and he turned back around.

  She did the same.

  After a few moments, she interrupted the silence.

  “Question,” she said.

  She heard his chuckle.

  “Shoot.”

  “Why…if you don’t mind my asking, that is—Why don’t you have a plus one?”

  He chuckled. “I could ask the same of you.”

  “But I asked first,” she said, smiling as she looked over her shoulder.

  “You got me there, Miss Williams,” he took in a deep breath, not halting his movements.

  “I guess these old bones aren’t as young as they used to be,” he snickered. “I mean, when I was younger, I guess I was just more optimistic; more trusting. Now, I’m just much more careful.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Yeah. I uh—I was engaged, once. But it turned out my fiance and I weren’t what the other was really looking for.”

  Therese’s face scrunched at the vague response. But who was she to push?

  “Anyway,” he breathed. “It was a blessing that it didn’t work out. Time has shown me that I need someone more like–more like…”

  She turned and rifled through some paperwork.

  “Miss Williams.”

  “Yes?” she responded, pausing her actions as she returned her attention to him.

  He turned to her, his mouth agape. He blinked, closed his mouth and turned back toward the rack.

  “I, uhm,” he began, looking down at the open box at his feet. “You know, you may be right. I’m probably just slowing you down with my help. I should just let you get to it.”

  “Oh,” she responded, her eyebrows hugging one another. “Okay. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I brought up difficult memories. That wasn’t my intention, at all.”

  “No, no. Actually, you brought up some valuable insight, Miss Williams.”

  He turned to her. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek.

  “Miss Williams, do you want me to leave?”

  She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of his fingers on her skin.

  Her shoulders fell. “No,” she said huskily. “But there’s so much at stake. The bank’s policy. And I know, from our conversations, that we’re both believers in Christ. If you stay…I just don’t want us to do anything we’ll regret.”

  “What if I promised I won’t let us?”

  “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Mr. Lin,” she chuckled, her hand gravitating to the one that hung by his side. Her forefinger curled around his thumb.

  “You have my word, Miss Williams,” David growled.

  David leaned down and Therese parted her lips, welcoming the feel of his mouth melding with hers.

  His tongue darted in, tasting hers. She reciprocated, their mutual grunts growing more frequent.

  The feel of his hand pressing into her hip startled her, and she gave a small yelp in his mouth. His hand slid down her thigh, stopping at the back of her knee. He lowered himself just slightly as he raised her leg. Dutifully, she hooked her leg around his hips.

  “Do you want me?” he whispered against her neck.

  “Yes,” she breathed, her chest falling and rising rapidly.

  “Say it,” he bit out, his teeth raking across her skin. “Tell me, Therese. Call me ‘David’. Tell me you want me.”

  “Oh, God, I want you David. Please,” she moaned, her hands traveling along his back, reveling in the muscles moving beneath his dress shirt.

  “Then you have me, Therese,” he whispered into her ear. “You’ve had me the moment I saw you.”

  “David,” she moaned, arching her neck.

  He accepted the invitation, returning his mouth to the cord of muscle along her neck; following it down to where the beat of her heart beat quickly at the base of her neck.

  Slowly, he lowered her leg and straightened. He continued leaning down, stalling the moment their lips would break contact. Finally, with a growl, he stepped away, grasping hold of both her hands.

  Therese lips ached for more.

  Her whole body ached for more.

  And by the look on David’s face, she wasn’t alone.

  He licked the corner of his lips.

  “I keep my promises, Therese,” he said, huskily. Lifting her hand to his lips, he gave her a gentle kiss on the back of her fingers.

  Taking another step back, he let her hands go.

  “Can I take you out? Tomorrow.”

  Therese could only nod.

  He bobbed his head, in turn. His gaze floated back to her mouth. Swallowing, he placed his hands in his pocket, pivoted on his heel and stalked to the door. He turned to face her in the threshold.

  “See you soon,” he said, “Sweet Therese.”

  He took one step back, sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and spun toward her apartment’s exit. Seconds later, she heard the click of her door as it closed behind him.

  Therese lowered herself onto the floor. Sitting akimbo on the carpeted surface, she swung her arms behind her, bracing herself.

  “Not soon enough,” she exhaled.

  Chapter 10

  “This is a bad idea,” she whispered.

  “I know, right?” David whispered back. “Why are you going towards the mysterious noise instead of running away from it,” he added, his eyes focused on the tv screen.

  She chuckled. “I’m not talking about the movie, David.”

  He turned to her, winked and leaned down, giving her a lingering kiss.

  “I know,” he said, pulling away and tossing a few kernels of popcorn in his mouth. “But you say this on every date we have.”

  “Cuz it’s true for every date,” she insisted. “We’ve been lucky the past few weeks; but sooner or later someone’s going to find out. And then we’ll both be out of jobs. And I need this job,” she breathed.

  “Right. You’re right. So—what do you want to do? Should we stop seeing each other?”

  “No!” she blurted.

  “Awww,” he responded when that cute little face of hers melted into a pout.

  “But we should think through our options,” she added. “And through the consequences.”

  “Honey, the options are clear. As are the consequences. We could come clean. Clear our consciences, and not have to sneak around—although it’s been pretty fun closing my office door and sneaking kisses throughout the day,” he chuckled. “If we’re open about our relationship, we won’t have to sneak around. Because we’ll both be ex-employees.

  “On the other hand, we could stop seeing each other. And we could go back to pretending that we don’t have the feelings that we have for one another. And I don’t think I can manage that. Can you?”

  “No,” she grumbled, situating herself so that her back rested on a pillow leaning on the sofa’s arm. She raised her legs and placed her socked feet in his lap.

  “Right,” he said, gathering her feet in his hands and positioning them more comfortably on his lap. “So our third option is this,” he concluded, tugging off one of her socks and then the other.

  He began massaging one foot. She groaned and her head flopped to the side to rest on the sofa’s cushion.

  “I just hate sneaking around. But if people knew, they’d probably think I was sleeping with you.”

  His fingers paused. After several beats, he resumed his ministrations.

  “From your lips…” he mumbled.

  She pulled her leg up, snatching her foot from his hand. “David!”

  “What? I’m not saying now! I’ve got high hopes for some time in the future, that’s all.”

  “You planning on putting a ring on this finger?” she waggled her hand.

  “I wouldn’t be talking to you like this if I didn’t,” he stated matter-of-factly, reaching for her foot and pulling it back into his lap.

  She lay her head back on the cushion and regarded him.

  “It’s a little soon for us to be talking about that type of thing.”

  “Too soon for you?”

  “No,” she responded, immediately.

  “Me either,” he said, looking down at her feet as he finished his massage of the first one and moved on to the other.

  She was silent for several moments; and David got the feeling that something was weighing heavy on her mind.

  “What happened when you were engaged, before, David?” she finally asked. “I just feel like if we’re going to put that idea out there of…you know…then I should at least know that much.”

  Bobbing his head, he trained his eyes upon the work he was doing with the small muscles in her feet and drew in a deep breath.

  “I have to tell you something.” He felt her foot shift, the muscles in her calf becoming tense upon his thigh.

  Looking up at her he assured her, “It’s nothing bad.”

  He began to absently rub the back of her foot. “It just may be really unexpectant. But, it’s a part of the story.”