Switch

path, a pattern. I didn't need Paul to give me that; I was

more than capable of prioritizing my daily duties, and yet,

staring at the instructions gave me a sense of

accomplishment before I'd even completed a single task.

It surprised him, I think, when he came back to the office

just after I should have left. I hadn't dawdled, but the list

had been very long and some of the tasks I hadn't yet been

trained for. I'd figured them out, though, my fingers tap-

tapping on the keyboard as I filed in data spreadsheets

and saved files and sent e-mails. I was shutting down my

computer as he disappeared into his office.

I took my time gathering my sweater and water bottle. In a

moment Paul reappeared in his doorway. Paul had not

loosened his tie or taken off his suit jacket, not at the end

of the day. He looked tired.

'Paige. I wasn't expecting you to stil be here.' He slid his

'Paige. I wasn't expecting you to stil be here.' He slid his gaze from mine in a manner so blatant I couldn't have

missed it. 'I got al the files you sent.'

I could've let it pass, pretended something wasn't strange

between us. Maybe I should've, but his attitude rankled.

'Is everything al right? I mean, I did everything you asked

for, right?'

He nodded, but when he spoke, his voice was gruff and he

avoided looking at me. 'I've been very pleased with your

performance.'

I thought of what Brenda had said, about how the girls

never lasted long. Wel, I needed this job and I'd be

damned if I was forced out of it. I could find another job if

I wanted, but it would be when I wanted. Not when Mr.

Johnson decided to make me miserable enough to quit.

But there was more to it than that. Strength and beauty.

Flaws and strengths. Lists. It was bound wrists and a

blindfold and being told what to do without having to think

for myself.

We stared at each other until he looked away.

'Thank you,' Paul said. Then he went into his office and

'Thank you,' Paul said. Then he went into his office and

closed the door behind him.

The misdelivered note handwritten in fine ink on gorgeous

paper wasn't anything like the one Paul had given me. So

why, then, had they both become so inexplicably linked?

Kira caught me on my cel phone as I drove home. Our

conversation didn't last long, and while she might not have

felt the strain, I did. We hadn't been best friends for a long

time, but like al my other old habits, Kira was a hard one

to break.

Her cal took my mind off Paul and the lists, but got me

thinking about Austin again. I wasn't sure that was an

improvement. She didn't apologize for inviting him to the