“Hey, look at you,” Melanie beamed. She threw her arms around him, her fingers excited once they felt the fine threads of his shirt. She shifted a hand around to his chest and turned to
Eric
a, “You’ve got to feel this.”
Why couldn’t
Eric
a greet him with Melanie’s enthusiasm
?
Why did she stand so coolly behind the kitchen counter with a hand on her hip and the other clutching a water glass
?
She made no move to come feel his shirt nor would she. She was forever pushing something between them; the counter here in the apartment, the table at dinner, her desk at work; anything to insulate herself from the spark. She foiled his every attempt to flick that fledgling spark into a vat of gasoline. If he could press his lips to hers just once the passion would roar out from behind those tranquil brown eyes.
However restrained she acted she couldn’t hide the trouble she’d gone to. Her hair and makeup were freshly done and she was wearing a new skirt. It wasn’t the little black dress he dreamed of, but seeing a hint of her bare legs over the counter was a thrill after years of baggy pants. In heels she nearly matched his height.
When
Eric
a rounded the counter and came into the living room, she looked amused that Melanie still had both hands on Gregg’s shirt. The ploy had drawn her closer, but she didn’t look the least bit jealous.
Melanie rubbed unabashed.
“You better get over here,” Melanie said, “before I drag him down the hall and show him how a real woman treats a hunk like this.”
Eric
a smiled at the two of them. “I don’t have exclusive rights.”
“What’s this dinner about then
?
” Gregg asked.
“Steve saying thank you. Was there more to it than that
?
”
“I thought so. Does that mean I’m not getting any action
?
” He was glad he said it in spite of the embarrassment he felt. The alcohol was working.
“Not from me,”
Eric
a shot back without hesitation.
Melanie still had her hand on his back. She leaned close, brushing his chest with hers as she stretched up toward his ear. Her sultry whisper was intended more for
Eric
a than Gregg. “Come back after dinner. I’ll make sure you don’t go home hungry.” She wouldn’t betray
Eric
a, but the longing in her eyes was unmistakable.
Eric
a sensed it, too. “Come on, Lover Boy,” she said and linked her arm through his. She tugged him away from Melanie and toward the door.
Melanie gave a sly wink as they left. Progress.
In the taxi,
Eric
a kept the conversation focused on work, her project and how Gregg’s team had adapted to the new system. She clung to the technical and superficial, avoiding anything remotely personal. She wouldn’t be dragged into a conversation about what was going on between them and even if he could force the subject, the ride wasn’t long enough. He listened politely, biding his time even after they arrived at Mamma Maria.
The steady flow of couples entering and exiting the bar provided
Eric
a with prompts to help keep the conversation light. Gregg did his best to exhaust every avenue of office conversation while they were in the bar.
Eric
a couldn’t have seemed more at ease.
A host summoned them to be seated and led them up a narrow stairway to the Piccolo Room on the second floor. The sole table, set for two, overlooked
North Square
. He handed them each a menu, the wine list to Gregg and departed, leaving them alone in the heart of the North End. The chatter from the bar was barely audible.
Alone in a setting women fawned over,
Eric
a’s eyes darted around the room as if she’d been kidnapped. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to start something,” she said uneasily. Classic
Eric
a: preemptively warning him not to say what was on his mind.
It wasn’t going to work tonight.
“I’ve been trying to start this for years. It’s time. Don’t you think
?
”
“I don’t know if I can handle the competition. You had Melanie hanging all over you tonight and Sarah all dreamy-eyed yesterday. The hunky-farmboy-in-the-city routine is really packing ‘em in.”
“You know what Melanie was doing. She sees the chemistry between us like everyone else. Why you choose to deny it I have no idea.”
“What exactly am I denying
?
”
“That you’re so crazy about me it scares you.”
Eric
a reeled back as if she’d been slapped. She’d warned him not to try again. He expected a flat denial and a stern rejoinder for his audacity. He got neither. She didn’t argue. She knew it was true. She refused to meet his eyes, searching the walls for the right words instead.
“It couldn’t be more obvious,” he prodded. “The only people at BFS not talking about us – is us. Why do you keep running from me
?
”
She took a long drink of water and set the glass down deliberately. “I’m not who you think I am.”
The waiter took a step over the threshold and Gregg shooed him away with a solemn shake of his head.
“I see who you are. You’d make a fabulous kindergarten teacher. You help people until it hurts. I’m not sure who you think you are, but it’s a no-brainer for the rest of us.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“I couldn’t be more sure. I’ve known you five years and, trust me, I’ve been paying attention. Nothing’s going to scare me away from you.”
Eric
a waived the waiter in, opened her menu and asked for his recommendations. She was feeling pressured. Bombarded with uncomfortable emotions, she needed an escape, a calm minute to digest what he was saying. Chatting with the waiter was her only respite.
Gregg studied every nuance of her face as she ordered. There would be few interruptions in this cozy room. No way to evade the conversation without fleeing for the ladies room.
She settled on the lobster pasta.
Gregg hadn’t read a single selection.
His eyes came upon the slow-roasted
Sonoma
rabbit by chance. He’d hunted rabbit on the farm, unsuccessfully.
Eric
a seemed perturbed at the selection, but said nothing until the waiter left the room.
“You have no idea what you’re setting yourself up for.”
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
She didn’t deny the spark between them; didn’t try to dissuade him with the usual office romance prohibition crap. She nodded, smiled and voila they were a couple. She never said so in plain terms and he didn’t force her to, but there it was. His mind buzzed with celebratory images. He almost didn’t hear her say that she never planned to marry. Never. No kids, no weddings, not a chance.
He looked across the table, deflated. The woman who represented the ideal mate in every possible way, refused to play a role that fit her so aptly. A shaky, “Why not
?
” was all he could manage.
“My parents weren’t exactly June and Ward Cleaver.”
In all their conversations she’d rarely mentioned her family. He’d talked about his constantly. He’d always thought it was the differing desires for their relationship. He strove to make it more personal, while she pushed hard in the other direction, never revealing too much.
“You never said anything.”
“It’s not something I talk about.”
“Can we talk about it now
?
Whatever it is, it won’t change anything between us.”
She reached over and put her hand on his. “It’s not a first date conversation. Let’s give it some time before we get into the heavy stuff.”
The directors arrayed around the table in this post Sarbanes-Oxley world weren’t as friendly as those of a few years ago. Gone were the days when Marty got a free pass for being a Finch. The old friends that had gotten him to the head of the table had been replaced by a bunch of outsiders with no stock. Some didn’t even have experience in fund trading or banking. Worst of all was Bill Elliot, the man who faced him from the chairman’s seat. He wasn’t family. All he cared about was shareholder value, never mind that Marty’s family controlled most of the shares. He encouraged the others to pry into operations, to poke around and see how things worked, to satisfy their curiosity. Financial statements weren’t good enough for these bloodsuckers. They looked for trouble everywhere they went. They even questioned employees they met in the hall. When smart employees saw a board member roaming around unescorted, they ran for cover.
Marty didn’t have anything to hide per se, but he’d spent the last forty years skating by. In a family of overachieving genius capitalists, Marty saw good-enough as a lofty goal. That’s why they let Bill Elliot take control. He and the others constantly critiqued Marty’s leadership. They attacked his policies and they were always building a case for his ouster. Mother said they were just keeping him honest.
Today Marty would showcase a shining example of his leadership. This presentation would stave off any action for months. A rare technology project with a positive ROI and a huge impact on operations, it was spearheaded by a dedicated employee that was easy on the eyes. Even the most bloodthirsty among them could appreciate that. If father were alive, he’d have been impressed.
Marty pressed the buzzer and
Eric
a Fletcher walked in. The murmurs died away. All attention was on her as she attached her laptop to the projector and booted both machines. Marty left his seat as the display screen unfurled against the wall behind him. He pulled his chair out of the way and stood beside
Eric
a.
“Gentlemen,” Marty began, “today you will see the result of our years of investment in human resources. We have long selected the finest graduates and nurtured them through decades-long careers. This is but one example of how that effort is paying dividends.” Marty extended an arm toward
Eric
a. “It is my distinct pleasure to introduce
Eric
a Fletcher.
Eric
a was identified as a star early in her career. Just a few short years ago she was rising through the ranks in client services and we decided to move her into a more strategic position. We decided the information technology group could best utilize her talents.”
“You decided,” Brad interjected.
“Brilliantly, I might add.”
Several throats cleared.
“She has excelled beyond even my expectations. Today she’s at the forefront of systems technology. She’s going to tell you about an effort she recently led that has enabled us to leapfrog our competitors. She has given us one of the most flexible and powerful investment management systems in the industry.”