Layers(52)

Daniel surveys me for a prolonged moment; I squirm slightly at the tension he gives off. His features harden and his body stiffens. His jaw clenches under his skin and the look in his recently soft and playful eyes turns grave. I watch him, trying to understand the reason for this sudden change.

“Well,” he says, deeply introspective, “I’ll need Mrs. Greenich to present Miss Taylor and Rob with an R and F tomorrow morning.”

What the hell is he talking about? What’s an R and F and why should Miss Greenich have to present it to Tasha?

“What does Mrs. Greenich have to give to Tasha?” I ask.

“Our R and F form. An employee termination of contract in an inevitable situation. It’s the procedure my HR has to follow after a breach of the company’s policies.” He looks at me, dead serious.

Concerned, and deeply hoping he’s just pretending to be, I hope that he’s making all this up. I wait for a naughty smile to arrive any second now, but it doesn’t. Baffled, I ask him if he’s serious.

“Oh, when it comes to my business, Hayley, I don’t joke. Miss Taylor violated the company’s policy and one of the terms of her contract.” What’s with the righteous trance? And come on, Tasha’s Miss Taylor now?

Entirely in shock but still hoping very much that he’s just joking with me, I ask him to elaborate which rule Tasha broke, exactly.

“Workplace romance and fraternization.”

“No way, you cannot be serious, are you?” I gape at him, my voice shaken, still finding it very hard to believe he might actually be serious.

And as though to justify his statement he adds, “It’s to avoid favoritism and sexual harassment lawsuits.”

“Well, I understand the fundamental logic of such a policy, but Daniel, we’re talking about me conveying this information to you as my …” As his what? I choose to continue with, “as me, to you, about my friend. I’m not talking to Mr. Stark, CEO of Stark Software, for god’s sake.” The fragile seams holding my nerves together are at the verge of tearing and I’m positive I’m transmitting that to Mr. Irrational here.

Clenched jaw and austere eyes observe me. “I can’t,” he says in a low, single-minded, firm voice.

Not a chance in hell I’m letting this go through. He cannot fire her because of me. He cannot take the information I shared with him, as my so-called lover, and use it against my best friend. I’m getting panicked and angry at this stubborn, illogical man. Could you step out of your resolute psyche for just one second and hear what I have to say? “Daniel,” I say, my voice calm yet icy. “Please look at me.”

His eyes turn to fix on mine. A hint of softness appears in them. This is a good sign; perhaps he’ll listen.

“Daniel, this information about my friend that I’ve just shared with you is private.” Anger swells in my gut the more I think about it, but I am doing my very best to remain collected. “Tasha confided in me without any need to hold back, which is the most natural thing in the world for her to do, given I’m her closest friend.” I stress the last part. “I, on the other hand, I shared this information with you as your friend not realizing you’d take it as a cue to abuse my confidence in you.”

I pause to force out a necessary breath of indignation.

“Have I been wrong to confide in you?” I ask. “If I am, it would mean a major change in the dynamics between us,” I add, not leaving his eyes, hoping to find some sort of recognition and acceptance of what I’ve just said.

Breaking our eyes contact he says, absentmindedly, “I’ll let this one pass on a technicality, you being my girlfriend and all.” He sighs in resignation, far from seeming to agree with his own words.

Girlfriend? Though somewhat dazed, my heart still does a flip, overjoyed.

“Wow, you’ve just been so, hmm, un—you …” Still sitting on the counter beside where he stands, I reach for his hand; I pull him closer for a hug which he gladly returns. I frame his bristled face with both hands and plant a lush, leaving-no-prisoners-behind kiss on his lips, inhaling his musky, male scent. His eyes flare as he eagerly cooperates with my harassment.

Coming up for air, he asks, “And I should take that as a compliment?” His lips insinuate a glimpse of a smile; I give him my most caring, glowing grin and nod.

“What has become of me? What are you doing to me?” he breathes, then sighs, shaking his head, and to my reluctance resumes attending to our food, a small, crooked curve resting on his lips.





Chapter 20: New Layer


“Here we go.” Daniel grinds the last portion of parmesan onto one of the dishes, putting the Natasha/Rob cold case file to rest. “And voilà.” He gestures to the two plates of steaming, delectable-looking spaghetti and meatballs with grated fragrant parmesan. One look at the dishes and a sudden homesick longing falls over me.

“What is it?” Daniel scans me, concern twining subtly through his tone.

“It’s silly.” My lips twist with an awkward, trying-to-appear-casual grin. “It’s just … that’s my mom’s special comfort food and it makes me miss home.” Without leaving my eyes he makes his way toward where I am sitting and wraps his arms around me, shelters me with strength and warmth. Under his cocooning my tension begins to subside.