“Beeks thought it was the mention of prison,” he murmured. “It wasn’t… A safe place to sleep. That’s what you said. That’s why I hired you… As long as I can provide it, that’s what you’ll get from me.”
Opening her eyes wide, Shyla was grateful for the light of the city illuminating her bedroom or else she might not have seen how deeply he looked into her. She felt adored. Appreciated. Valued. Score offered her so much that she felt inadequate in comparison. He was so much and she was so little.
His hand fell from her face. “Go to bed, Shy.”
Nodding, she slunk backwards, past her open door and into her room. Her thumbs slid up her back and she loosened the clasp of her bra. Before she could take it from her arms, he turned his back and walked away.
So, he wanted her naked, wanted her under his power, wanted her door open so he could come to her at any time… Yet, he chose to drive himself wild by resisting.
This was becoming the affair of a lifetime and they hadn’t even kissed… yet.
The next morning, Shyla was icing a cake, listening to Beeks and Fish discuss some sports team when Score came around the end of the hallway.
Beeks was spread out on the table doing paperwork. Fish was lounging in his usual spot, the stool closest to the elevators. Score didn’t say anything as he passed Fish to sit on the stool nearest the windows.
Going to the coffee machine, Shyla poured coffee for Score like she would on any other day. Except for her, that day was different. Her boss wasn’t just her boss anymore. He’d seen her wearing nothing but her underwear, he’d demanded to see her like that. She’d slept naked because he wanted it that way.
The fizz of excitement in her belly felt so naughty. They might not have slept in the same bed, but they’d both slept with their doors open. That morning, when she’d left her bedroom, she’d loitered outside Score’s open bedroom door, teasing herself with the idea that she could slip in and watch him sleep or maybe even slip in beside him.
But he hadn’t asked her to do either, and she’d said she was going to follow his guidance. That meant behaving herself. Playing with the idea didn’t mean she’d do it for real anyway. It would take more courage than she had to get into bed with a naked man.
Seeing him that way in bed had been an accident. Although the image of him had saturated her thoughts ever since, she doubted she’d ever be brave enough to confess her invasion of his privacy.
Though their new open door policy clouded the rules, she wasn’t exactly clear what she was and wasn’t allowed to do.
The coffee quaked as she took it from the machine. Her hand was shaking so bad that ripples hurried across the top of the liquid. The porcelain was hot; it burned her opposite palm when she tried to steady it. Knowing spillage would bring everyone’s attention to her, she decided to take the heat.
With two hands, she lowered the cup to the island. At least her need for concentration meant she could avoid looking him in the eye on the walk over there.
“What team do you like?” Fish asked.
Shyla was smiling at her achievement and shaking the heat out of her hand when she realized he was talking to her. “Me?” she asked, her eyes widening.
Fish got up to go over to the fridge. “Yeah. You’ve got to be into something.”
“Not sports,” she said, noticing that Score was focused on his coffee and hadn’t acknowledged her. Fish retrieving the juice from the fridge diverted her thoughts fast, she jumped to action and ran to him. “Ah!”
Putting one hand on the pitcher, she used the other to open a cabinet and take out a glass.
“Right,” Fish said as she poured the juice into the glass.
Handing him the drink, Shyla urged him away from the fridge to put the pitcher away. “Thank you for obliging me.”
Fish raised the glass and went back to his stool. “How do you make this juice anyway?”
“I juice fruit,” she said, looking past Score. “Mr. Beeks, would you like more coffee before I cook?”
“Please,” he called out.
“You don’t got to call him Mister,” Fish said.
Shyla poured the coffee. When it was for Beeks, her hand didn’t shake. Score still hadn’t looked at her. Maybe she’d just dreamt up their chess game and all that came with it.
“I gave up telling her that,” Beeks said as she put the cup down next to him.
“When can we eat the cake?” Fish said, looking at the dessert laid out on the counter. “It looks so cool.”
“After dinner,” she said. “The frosting is still wet, please don’t touch it.” Going to Score, she paused at his side, trying to remember how she’d acted every other day after he’d woken up. “I was thinking bacon and pancakes, sir?”
He raised his eyes without lifting his head and acknowledged her question with a bob of his brows, then his focus returned to his phone. Shyla didn’t know why she expected that day would be different from any of the others. Somehow, she had woken up feeling different and thought he might too.
Forcing him to make any acknowledgements that he didn’t want to make wouldn’t be smart. Leaving his side, she considered that he might have changed his mind. Maybe he’d walked into her bedroom while she was sleeping and seen something he didn’t like.
Going about her cooking, she tried to figure out what she could have done to put him off. At breakfast on other days, he’d look at her, watch her. Not constantly, but once in a while she’d catch
