I look at her warily, but she’s right. I do trust her.
“That being said,” she says, clearing her throat, “I’d like you to replace me. As soon as possible, preferably.”
There’s no sunshine in her face, no ease that I’m used to seeing and that winds the dread even tighter.
“Things between us are too complicated for me to keep coming in here every day. I mean, you . . . I . . . we . . .” She looks at me through her thick lashes, begging me to help.
“I understand.” The air moves between us, as heavy as the dismay I feel, and I want to reach for her, but that’s the problem in and of itself. “I don’t want you to go. Can I say that?”
“You can. And I don’t want to go, for the record,” she sighs. “It’s too hard to come here, and I’m not even making a pun this time,” she smiles weakly. “I never should’ve crossed the line with you because we work together so well. But I did.”
I think back to all the times we crossed the line and realize the most serious ones weren’t the times I was inside her body. They were the times I was inside her mind. When she was burrowing herself inside my heart.
That’s what got us to this point. It’s why this conversation feels like I’m being suffocated. If it were only a physical thing between us, I’d manage. It’s not. It’s becoming so much deeper than that.
“I did too,” I admit.
She nods. “I know a girl, actually, that might be a good fit. I can get her resume, if you’d like.”
But she won’t be you.
This is for the best. I know it, even though I can’t help but hear the scream inside my brain, yelling at me to talk her out of it.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you getting yourself in a situation because you leave your job. I can transfer you. You suggested that before, remember?”
“Yeah. But I really think I just need a clean break from you, Graham. You’re kind of like crack and I need to go cold turkey.”
I grin at her analogy, but there’s no happiness in my smile. “I’ll write you a shining recommendation,” I promise. “I could even help you find another job. You’d be an asset to anyone that would be smart enough to hire you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I force a swallow. “So, my favor?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
I can hear nothing but white noise as I fill my lungs with air. “Lincoln is getting married this weekend. It’s at the Farm.” I watch her eyes widen, anticipation written all over her pretty face. “Would you do me the honor of being my date?”
“Graham . . .” she says warily.
“You’re going to leave here soon, and let’s be honest, I probably won’t see you again.” My jaw clenches as I say it, but I press forward. “You’ll go live some other life, and I wish you the best with it. But since we’re stuck together for a little while longer, let’s make the best of it. What could it hurt?”
I know the answer. It’s only going to make it hurt worse in the end, but I’m willing, for the second time in my life, to take the hedonistic approach.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “It’s your family, and a wedding at that, and I . . .”
“What?”
She shrugs.
“And you’d be my date and I’d be honored to have you on my arm.” When she doesn’t agree, I lean forward. “Don’t make me go alone. My brothers won’t let me live it down.”
Slowly, inch by inch, her face gets a glow of that sunshine I miss. “When you put it like that, I suppose I could help you out.”
“There’s one more part.” There isn’t. That was it. Just the wedding. But seeing how easily she agreed, now I’m going to press my luck. “There’s a golf outing with my brothers the day before. We’re all going. It’ll be a nightmare, but it’s what Lincoln wanted to do. The girls of my family are going to the clubhouse and having a shower for Danielle. I thought maybe you’d like to go on my behalf.”
“What? On your behalf? That makes no sense, Graham.”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking on my feet. “My mother will be there, both my sisters. Alison and Danielle and a couple of her friends. I thought it would be nice if you went. I know it would mean a lot to Lincoln too.”