Ethel's Pov
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
The intercom buzzes on my desk and I nearly jump out of my skin. I know it's him before he even speaks because of course it is. Who else would it be?
"Ethel, could you come to my office please?"
My hands are shaking, and my voice decided to go on vacation. I press them flat against my desk and take a breath.
"Of course, Mr. Romano." I finally found my voice. "I'll be there in two minutes."
Mr. Romano? I almost laughed. Like I didn't see him naked three days ago. Like I don't know exactly what he looks like when he—
Nope. I'm not thinking about that. Not now, not ever. Professionally, we're pretending it never happened, which should be easy except my brain won't cooperate and keeps replaying every single detail.
Shameless me had been moaning Louis days ago now I can't even face him without remembering how his hand held my neck while he fucked me good.
I grab my tablet because I need something to hold, something to do with my hands that isn't obviously anxious fidgeting. My heels click against the floor as I walk to his office, and I'm hyperaware of every sound, every movement, every breath.
This is fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. I took deep breaths to calm my raging nerves.
Except nothing is fine because I slept with my boss and now I have to go into his office and pretend to be a normal, functioning professional when all I can think about is—
"Stop it, Ethel." I slapped myself mentally. "You can do this, just answer his questions and you'll be out of there in no time."
I knock on his door frame even though it's open. He looks up, and oh God, those eyes. I'd forgotten how intense they are in the daylight, how they make my stomach do weird fluttery things.
"You wanted to see me?" I forced a smile, hiding my nervousness.
"Yeah, come in and do well to close the door." His eyes returned to the file before him.
My heart stops. "Close the—um, okay."
I close the door with hands and turn back to find him watching me. Not in a creepy way, just... watching. Like he's trying to figure me out.
"Have a seat." I muttered a thank you and sat down. The chair feels too close to his desk, or maybe I'm just too aware of the distance between us. Or lack thereof.
"I wanted to check in about the Morrison project," he says. "Do you have it with you?"
Oh, Work. Right. That's a thing we do here. Work and nothing else. What else was I expecting to happen when he asked me to close the door?
"It's fine. Everything's on track." I scrolled through the files on my tablet. "I've gone through it and just like we've discussed, it'll work in our favor."
"Good." He nodded. " That's good, because we need all the wins we can to surpass the competitions."
Silence. The awful, heavy kind where you're supposed to fill it with words but your brain has apparently forgotten how language works.
"So, um—" I start.
"How are you—" he says at the same time.
We both stop. I can feel my face heating up and he smiles at me which only matters worse because I can swear that I'm blushing.
"Sorry, you go," I replied.
"No, you—"
"I was just going to say the reports are done. The ones you asked for. They're done."
"Great. That's... great." Was all he said and it was followed by more silence that was actual torture.
"Is that all?" I ask, because I need to get out of this office before I spontaneously combust from awkwardness.
He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that should not be as attractive as it is. "Yeah. No. I mean—how are you finding the team? Everyone treating you well?"
"Yes, everyone's been very professional." I replied. "Some are a little grumpy but there's nothing I can't handle."
"Ethel—"
"If there's nothing work-related, I should get back to—"
"We don't have to make this weird." He leaned back in his seat. "The earlier we address the elephant in the room, the better for us."
I actually laugh at that. Can't help it. "Isn't it already weird?"
"Fair point." He leans forward, and oh God, I need to look away but I can't. "Look, what happened that night... we were both drunk. It was a mistake. It doesn't have to affect our working relationship."
A mistake? I wouldn't classify it as that because the word hits me harder than it should. Which is stupid because obviously it was a mistake.
"Right. The circumstances." I stand up before he can see whatever's on my face right now. "Was there anything else, Mr. Romano?"
He looks like he wants to say something else, but I'm already moving toward the door because if I stay in this office one more second, I'm going to say something stupid or cry or both.
"No. That's all, Miss Ethel." As i was about to walk out the door, he called after me. "I don't regret it, though."
I stood there with my hand on the doorknob, heart in my throat, brain completely offline.
What am I supposed to say to that? What does that even mean?
"You should," I manage, and then I'm out of there, closing the door behind me and speed-walking back to my desk like my life depends on it.
Oh God. Oh God, what is happening? Was this how I was going to spend the remaining years I had in this company?