I wondered who had taken advantage of him and hurt him so badly.
When he came out of the bathroom, I expected him to head back to his seat. I expected his snoring to kick up in a few minutes and for Rori and myself to be alone again in the hospital room. But instead, he pulled up a chair beside me. He folded his hands in his lap, acting as if he weren’t still in flannel pajama pants and a robe that was probably made of solid mink or some shit like that.
Then, he cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”
I shook my head. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“This will probably be the only time we have alone for a while.”
I snickered. “We aren’t alone. Rori’s right here. And I’d like to not address anything sensitive while she’s in the room if it’s all the same to you.”
He stood to his feet. “Then, come with me to the cafeteria. She’s sleeping, and I heard your stomach growling an hour ago from across the room.”
I slowly looked up at him. “Even if I wanted to admit to that, I’m not leaving my daughter. She’s in a vulnerable state, and the last thing she should be is alone.”
He sighed. “They have her on morphine, for starters. She’s not waking up anytime soon. She won’t know you’ve gone to nourish yourself, which is what you need to be doing if you’re going to be single-handedly taking care of her. You both can’t be sick, so worrying yourself to death isn’t going to do your daughter any favors.”
I hated that he was right. “No longer than an hour, okay?”
He offered me his hand. “I’ll make sure we’re back in forty-five minutes.”
I fluttered my eyes up to his before I bent over and kissed my daughter’s forehead. I whispered in her ear that I’d be right back, just in case she could hear me and was aware of everything going on. Then, I took Trey’s hand, and we eased our way out the door. We walked toward the elevator and rode it in silence, our hands slowly slipping away and falling back to our sides.
I found that I missed his touch, though, as we walked through the door of the cafeteria.
The place was practically empty, but the coffee smelled fresh. I got myself a massive cup and dumped as much sugar in it as I could stand, then I decided to pick out some fruit for myself. Trey insisted that I get myself a sandwich as well, so I snatched up the last tuna melt from the griddle station. And of course, after he flexed his muscles and paid, we went and sat in a corner booth away from the few doctors and nurses who were on a break with their piping hot coffees.
But, when Trey spoke, it pulled my attention to him. “So, we’re sleeping together, and I’m your boss.”
I blinked and took a big sip of my coffee. “Just jumping on in here, huh?”
He shrugged. “What better way is there to do anything?”
I sighed. “I suppose as such.”
He leaned back and chewed on a french fry. “I want to be upfront and say that I don’t do this kind of thing with employees.Ever. I’ve never been in this situation before, and I’m trying to step as respectfully as possible.”
I took a bite of my sandwich and choked it down. “I know.”
“Protocol at my business states—”
I held my hand up. “I don’t care about protocol.”
He chuckled. “You should. You work there, too.”
I took another bite of my sandwich to appease him before I pushed it off to the side. “The only thing I care about is that you,A, understand that I’m not that kind of person, either, andB, I’m not hating what we’re doing.”
He blinked. “Those are two very good things to know, yes. Which brings me to my next question: do you feel we should stop?”
I considered his question for a few moments. “I mean, if it doesn’t get in the way of work, what’s the problem with a bit of stress relief?”
“Is that all it is for you? Stress relief?”
My eyes met his. “Is it something more than that for you? Because we should talk about that as well if it is.”
He held my gaze within his own for a long time before he spoke. “Monday. Dinner. Plan for it. We have some things to talk about with the upcoming business trip, and it sounds like we have more to talk about on a personal front when both of us are a little less tired.”
A shiver worked its way up my spine. “All right, I’ll get it on my calendar.”
