I gave Henry a nod. I did understand. All too well. I had a viral video that would probably haunt me forever. Because of it, finding another job in this industry could prove to be nearly impossible. Luckily, I hadn’t had the need to try.
Henry continued. “That same mate gave me the advice to just let it lie, stay out of trouble, and it would pass. So that’s what I did. But things didn’t get better—they got worse. Claire started ridiculing everything I did, making it seem like I was unfit for the position. Telling everyone that I wasn’t right for the job.”
I took my hand out of his and ran it up his arm. I was hurting for him, but at the same time felt so grateful to be able to touch him, to console him like that. “So then what happened?” I asked.
“I’m not really sure all that went down, but what I do know is that Claire seemed to be above reproach with the higher-ups and rarely listened to anything I had to say. As someone above her, it made things extra difficult. I went to HR to see what could be done, but the blame was put back on me. I was told that I needed to be able to handle these kinds of situations if I was ever going to make it in this business. And then . . . not much after that, Claire got caught taking some tickets to a football game that were gifted to the station, tickets that were quite coveted. When she was brought into HR the next day, she told them I gave them to her. I was marched into HR and unceremoniously let go.”
“Oh my gosh,” I said, my eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I tried, but at this point there were so many rumors going around, so many stories, that it didn’t matter what I said.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s awful, Henry. So then what? How did you end up here, in the States?”
“I didn’t wait too long to look for a new position. I started putting out some feelers and applied for some jobs, but no one was really hiring. It’s not an easy industry to get into, as you well know. I couldn’t afford my rent, wasn’t sure what I was going to do for work, so I found someone to take over my room at the flat I was sharing with a friend and went home to Mum and Dad’s, tail between my legs. My dad didn’t hold back the told-you-sos. He warned me that what happened between Claire and me could have been much worse, that he’d represented employment cases that were awful—ones that ruined lives. He lectured me many times on how irresponsible it was to date someone from work.”
His eyes met mine, his lips turned downward. I was beginning to see the full picture now.
“So when another mate of mine that was working here in the States told me I could come stay with him and see if I might find something here, I jumped at the chance. My mum was quite sad, my dad was disappointed even more. But I felt like I needed to go, to get out of there and start fresh, you know? I could maybe find a job in the industry here and there’d be no ghosts following me around, like I felt there would in London. I lucked out—the first job I got in Miami was another AP job. I kept my head down, did my work, didn’t make a lot of friends. I was soon elevated to producer of the midday show, then the evening. Then I got the interview for the Sports Channel, and it was something I was looking for, to get me out of news, but then—”
“You ended up on Channel 4.”
“Yes,” Henry said, with a dip of his chin.
“And Claire?”
He lifted his shoulder, briefly. “Last I heard, she was elevated to AP.”
“So, she won,” I said, louder than I intended.
The corner of Henry’s lip lifted upward. “I haven’t looked at it that way.”
“Wow, Henry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“So do you understand better now?” His eyes peered into mine, so much hope there that I would get all that he was saying.
I leaned my head fully back against the couch, my eyes looking up toward the white high-gloss-painted ceiling. “I do understand: Claire . . . that whole situation was a nightmare. But, Henry,” I said, sitting up again so he could see my eyes. “I’m not Claire.”
He shook his head. “You’re not. But once upon a time I didn’t think Claire could be that kind of person either.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I want to. We haven’t known each other all that long, though, have we?”
“No,” I said, hating that fact. It didn’t feel like I barely knew Henry. It felt like I’d known him much longer.
“Then you at least can see why I need some boundaries. At least when it comes to work.”
I did see, even though I didn’t like it. I also felt like even with us dating in secret, if things went bad, who’d stop me, or anyone else from doing what Claire had done? Not that I’d do any of that. But even keeping it secret was still a risk. Obviously one that he was willing to take for me, at least this much. So, it wasn’t throwing caution to the wind or moving mountains for me, but it was something. Like throwing a leaf into the wind or moving tiny foothills. Still, things were being moved.
I felt better about it—good, even. I floated home last night. But once I got into bed, my fanciful brain started going off on its own. Instead of romantic ideas, this time it was finding fault and plucking holes in Henry’s decisions.
One thing was for certain: I wanted to be with Henry. I had feelings for him that I’d never had before, and for once they felt reciprocated. But my crazy brain kept pushing one word to the forefront of my mind: settling. Was I settling again by having this secret relationship with Henry? I mean, there was no end in sight. Even when I had asked him how long, all he could do was shrug and tell me that he didn’t know.
I woke up feeling less excited about the whole prospect of being with Henry and had worked myself into a tizzy by the time I got to work. I was going to march into his office and tell him that we needed a better plan than this. I needed more than this; I deserved more.
But this morning when I walked into his office all riled up and ready to say my words, he shut the door behind me, pushed me up into the corner of his office, and let his lips and tongue and hands do the talking. By the time he pulled away from me, my lips swollen from his not-so-gentle kisses, I’d forgotten what I’d planned to say. I’d forgotten all words, to be completely honest.
Then the texting started.
Henry: I love that outfit on you. Very sexy.
Henry: I fancy the hell out of you.
Henry: Dinner tonight? We could order takeaway. Also snogging. And lots of it.
My belly would do a flip-flop thing every time I heard or felt my phone vibrate.
I don’t think I realized how hot a secret thing could be. I’ve gone about the day feeling so turned on, so giddily happy inside, that I couldn’t help but change my mind.
Now, sitting here across from Henry at our work meeting, carefully stealing secret glances, remembering how it felt when he practically accosted me with his lips in his office this morning . . . I’m quite keen on this whole dating in secret idea.
Quite keen, indeed.
~*~
Tonight as we sit on my white tufted sofa after eating Indian food and kissing like we can’t get enough of each other, I lean my back up against his chest, and he wraps his arms around me, our feet resting on the coffee table I restored a couple of years ago. He places kisses against my temple and rubs his hands over my arms.