Page 13 of Strings Attached

Mireille blinks at me, clearly caught off guard. "We are?"

I nod, already helping her out of her chair. "Yes. You need a proper meal, and I... Well, I could use a break from the office."

She studies me for a moment, then nods. "Okay. Where are we going?"

"I know a place," I say, guiding her towards the elevator with a gentle hand on her lower back. "Trust me."

As we ride down in the elevator, I can feel the tension between us, it’s like a spark, ready to ignite at any moment.

We arrive at the Big Chowder restaurant just a few blocks from the office. It's quiet and discreet, perfect for a business lunch—or for a conversation I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to have.

As we're seated at a secluded corner table, I can't help but notice how beautiful Mireille looks, even with her arm in a bandage and dark circles under her eyes. She's studying the menu intently; her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Order whatever you'd like," I tell her. "It's on me."

She looks up, surprise evident in her green eyes. "Evander, you don't have to-"

I wave off her protest. "I want to. Consider it a thank you. For your dedication."

Mireille smiles softly, a sight that makes my heart skip a beat. "Well, in that case, I might just have to order the most expensive thing on the menu."

I can't help but chuckle. "By all means."

We place our orders—a Caesar salad for me, and the lobster risotto for Mireille. As we wait for our food, an awkward silence falls between us. There's so much I want to say, but I'm not sure how to begin.

Finally, Mireille breaks the silence. "So... about what you said earlier, about caring about me more than you should."

I feel my body tense. This is it. The conversation I've been both dreading and longing for. "Yes?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine. "I feel the same way, Evander. I care about you too. More than I should, given our professional relationship."

"Mireille," I begin, my voice low, "you have to understand. This... whatever this is between us. It's complicated. I'm your boss. There are rules, ethics to consider."

She nods, her expression serious. "I know. Believe me, I've thought about all of that.”

The waiter comes with our lunch interrupting our conversation which I’m grateful for, right now, this conversation can’t happen. Not now, probably not ever. I can’t blur the lines between professional and personal. I value Mireille too much as an assistant and friend.

As we begin eating our meals, I try to steer the conversation to safer topics. "How is your arm feeling today?" I ask, nodding towards her bandaged wrist.

Mireille glances down at it. "It's a bit sore, but not too bad. The doctor said it should heal in a few weeks."

I nod, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you got hurt. Perhaps we should look into some safety improvements around the office."

She laughs softly. "Evander, no amount of safety measures can protect against my clumsiness. It's just who I am."

I can't help but smile. "Well, clumsy or not, you're still the best assistant I've ever had."

A light blush colors her cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

We eat in silence for a few moments before Mireille speaks again. "So, about the kite flying event this weekend. Are you still up for it?"

I groan internally, having almost forgotten about that commitment. "I suppose I did agree to it, didn't I?"

Mireille grins. "You did. No backing out now, Mr. Prescott."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I reply dryly. "Though I'm not sure how well we'll do with your injury."

She waves her good hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm sure we'll manage. After all, we make a pretty good team, don't we?"

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