Round 21

T he excitement of the board game win wore off as soon as I saw Mr. Markham. I sat in meetings and avoided his gaze. I did my work. I kept my head down. M&G was one of the top firms in California, and in a few years, my options would open up. But I needed to stick this out.

Finding a new job would be awful. Aside from the fact that having M&G on my résumé was a huge perk, I wouldn’t have Shaun, and all the other firms of the same caliber weren’t in town.

But this wasn’t okay. I wasn’t okay.

Without fully realizing what I was doing, I walked to the corner office of Louisa, the HR manager, and knocked.

“Come in,” she called.

I pushed the door open and found her sitting behind a large desk, her expression welcoming like a kindergarten teacher on the first day of school.

“Hi.” I offered her a polite smile.

“Rose. Please sit down. Would you like a cookie?” She opened the lid of the jar she kept topped up with her famous homemade cookies.

There was no reason I couldn’t file a complaint and eat a cookie at the same time. I was nothing if not a successful multitasker, and her cookies were delicious.

“Awesome job on the Socials Team, by the way. Everything’s coming together nicely. I even have my superhero costume ready.” She clapped her hands together.

“What are you going as?”

“Supergirl,” she replied. “You?”

I stifled a laugh. Neema had some competition.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll figure something out. I have a box of wigs and hats and a drawer of face paints. Worst case, I’ll go green and wear purple shorts.”

She offered me an unsure laugh.

Pulling in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and searched for the fearlessness my parents believed I owned, somewhere deep within me, something I never quite recognized in myself.

“Louisa,” I said, “I’m here to make a complaint. Or, more specifically, to report someone for…” I paused as my heart rate kicked up. “… for… harassment?” I said the last word as though it were a question.

Louisa’s eyes widened, and her red-lipped smile dropped away. My throat dried at her bleak expression.

“Okay.” She enunciated both syllables. “Are you the person being harassed?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t help but think: Was I being harassed?

“By whom?” Her eyes were so wide that she looked more afraid than I was.

“Jeffrey Markham.” I said his name as clearly as possible, but it came out sounding more like a squeak.

Louisa stared at me for what felt like a lifetime—so long I wasn’t even sure she’d heard me. Then an expression of dread poured over her face, and I knew she had.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she asked.

I told her everything, and the more I spoke, the sillier I felt. He hadn’t done anything. Patrick had warned me not to go to HR, yet here I sat with a mouthful of he called me pretty.

“Thank you, Rose. I know that was hard.” She pursed her lips together, her eyes joyless. “We’ll investigate the matter.”

“What happens now?” I brought my thumb to my lips and bit at the cuticle.

“I’ll talk to Mr. Markham, and I’ll probably need to talk to you again. It’s best if the two of you avoid each other as much as possible.”

The reality of her words washed over me. My mind and heart raced, and my entire body clenched.

“So…” My voice heightened in panic. “I still have to deal with him? Here? Every day until you, or whoever, believes me?”

Fresh tears pricked behind my eyelids, this time fueled with fury.

“May I suggest you take a few days off?”

I shook my head. “I have so much work. I can’t afford to.”

The sympathy in her eyes incited new waves of anger, and I needed to get out of there. I stood and left before she could say anything else.

When I reached our cubicle, Shaun glanced at me.

“I don’t feel well,” I mumbled. “I think I’ll take a sick day.”

He scratched his head, concern covering his features. “You never take sick days.”

“I never get sick. But I am now,” I said, and with the swirling emotions in my body, it didn’t feel like a lie. I was sick with frustration. I started packing up my things. “Can you cover for me? I need you to attend one meeting. I’ll take my laptop with me for all the others.”

As luck would have it, Mr. Markham zoomed down the corridor, avoiding my gaze. My stomach roiled like I might see my breakfast again.

“Let me take you.” Shaun stood, his hand going to his pocket for his keys.

“You have to attend my meeting in five minutes.” I leaned forward and squeezed his arm. “I’m okay. You don’t have to be nice to me all the time.”

“Oh, you think I’m doing this for you? No, my fiancée will kill me if she knows you took the bus,” he teased, pulling out his phone.

I turned around and shoved my laptop into my backpack while he mumbled into his phone.

“Hey, could you come and get Rose and take her home? Straight home. Yeah, at work. Now. Right now.” He hung up and turned to me. “William will be here in a minute.”

“William? I thought you called Neema.”

“Neema didn’t answer, and Lincoln’s stuck on site in the middle of nowhere. That leaves William.” He studied me. “That okay?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

Shaun scrutinized my expression, and I left, wanting to escape this building with no destination in mind.

The hum of a familiar car pulled up next to me, and an even more familiar voice carried through the open window.

“Did you decide to make a run for it instead of letting me give you a ride?” William leaned across and opened the passenger door from inside.

A smile broke onto my face, stifling the lingering anger. “Your long arms allow chivalry shortcuts,” I teased as I climbed in.

The car stood still as he surveyed me for a few seconds. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

I didn’t mean to tell him the truth. I meant to tell him I was fine. That I was okay. But the crack in my voice had him leaning closer, and his soft, intoxicating scent pulled the truth out of me until I told him everything—from the very first incident to the last. Because, for some reason, when William’s dark eyes were on me, my walls crumbled.

He didn’t say anything, somehow knowing not to push. Instead, he slid his hand off the steering wheel and onto my leg where my hand rested, covering it with his own. Warm against my icy fingers.

With my heart rate stabilizing, I took him in. His crumpled Doctor Who T-shirt, his checkered pajama pants and sock-clad feet resting on the clutch and accelerator.

“Why didn’t you change your clothing?” I asked.

He chuckled, a slight redness creeping onto his golden cheeks. “Shaun said it was an emergency, and I was barely awake enough to hear what he was saying.”

“I’m sorry.” I bit my lip and stared ahead. “I told him I could take the bus.”

He squeezed my hand under his. “Don’t be silly. Why would I miss the opportunity to finally have a moment alone with you?”

My cheeks heated at the suggestion.

The car launched forward, turning back into the lane, and with his full focus on the road and a seductive grin on his face, he said, “I had a dream about you.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.” It surprised me how natural it felt flirting with William. How safe.

A hearty laugh escaped him, nearly vibrating the entire car. “Not that kind of dream.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t play Until Dawn before bed.”

Laughter bubbled through me, washing away more of the anger and frustration. With William, I was able to tuck away the memory of Mr. Markham, work, my future, and all my stresses into the deepest depths of my mind, where I felt no fear. With William, I was present. It was all about the here and now, the same way it felt when I was playing a game—which, I suppose, we were doing.

“Hey,” he said, drawing my attention back to him, “are you sure you want to go home? I have a tank full of gas, and I’ve cleared my day. Name a place, and I’ll take you there.”

“I still have work to do.” I gestured to the backpack I was still wearing.

He pursed his lips. “Screw work. Didn’t you take a sick day? Shaun mentioned something like that.”

“William,” I chided, “not all of us have developed a bestselling game with profits we can comfortably live off.”

“Okay, fair point.” He pulled to a stop and lifted one finger. “But first, you’re on your way to developing one.”

His words sent a gentle flutter throughout my body.

He raised another finger. “And second, I think you need to blow off some steam. And while I have many ideas of how I could help you with that”—his naughty gaze met mine—“I have a feeling that’s not what you need right now. These cuticles need a break.”

He reached for my hand and lifted it to his mouth, his warm lips pressing against my thumb below the nail. The one I’d been biting. A foreign comfort spread from my thumb, up my shoulder, and to my chest, where it finally settled.

“How about a coffee at the Arcade Café?” I asked.

He looked down at his pajama pants, and I opened my mouth to retract that idea, but he chuckled.

“You know what? They’ve seen me in worse.”

My head rolled back with a giggle. “How do you do that? How do you not care about what people think of you?”

With a destination in mind, William shifted up a gear, and the car bolted forward, sending a flutter into my belly.

“I care.” He looked my way. “At least about what some people think.”

My breath hitched.

“But for the rest of them… they don’t care either. I keep my distance, and there’s little to no consequences.” He finished with a shrug.

“Games have no real consequences,” I said, almost to myself. “It’s why I love them. I get to take risks and quite literally roll the dice. Whichever way it turns out, I still have fun.”

William stopped the car outside the neon-lit café and smiled at me with gorgeous eyes. “That’s the same reason I play. Except instead of dice, I know that if I mess up or die, or kill someone, they’ll respawn or restart or whatever. I can’t really hurt anyone there.”

The pain etched in his words had me undoing my seat belt and leaning over to place a soft kiss on his unsmiling cheek.

He twisted his head and whispered, “I’ll have you know, I brushed my teeth before leaving.” Then he captured my mouth in a kiss and brought his hand to my chin, keeping me there a minute longer.

William made it feel as though he appreciated every part of me I gave him. As though a kiss were something more than lips touching.