Her rough sniffle keeps my dick in check.
Damn. She抯 going to pieces and it抯 my fault.
揗iss Poe, look at me,?I say gently.
She doesn抰 lift her head. She抯 paralyzed, face buried in her hands and at her wit抯 end.
揑桰抣l just resign. G-go clear my things now.?Her broken voice trembles. She hears me shifting, beginning to stand when she says, 揑 need a minute. Please.?
For a few heady seconds, I抦 quiet.
揕ook at me,?I try again.
Fuck. I抳e slipped into the voice I haven抰 used since a combat zone, when using it meant saving lives.
She raises her tear-streaked face slowly, meets my eyes, and darts her head down again.
Shit.
I broke her. I made her cry. I left her pride a smoking wreck on the floor.
Lincoln Burns, you absolute jagoff, I think with my lip curling.
揗iss Poe桪akota桰 didn抰 mean to put you on the spot today. I certainly didn抰 intend to reduce you to tears,?I say, trying like hell to soften my voice.
揑-I抦 s-s-sorry.?
Wonderful. All my request did was turn her occasional sniffle into a sobbing fit.
揇akota棓
If she hears me, she doesn抰 respond.
Do something, you buffalo. Move your ass.
I get up, walk around my desk, and kneel down beside her. I place a hand on her arm and pray she doesn抰 flinch.
揕isten桰抦 not that upset. I抦 confident you wouldn抰 throw around your梱our work梞aliciously. Assuming this was an honest mistake, you抮e forgiven,?I say, moving my fingers over hers.
Such soft skin, but I can抰 dwell on that now.
It抯 almost worse that she抯 so fragile, so battered, so shredded apart.
Is this really all thanks to my dumbassery? Or was it just the final thread unraveling this smart, gorgeous young woman?
She won抰 even look at me.
Still, I don抰 give up. I fucking can抰。
I clear my throat and get on with it.
揑f you must know, I won抰 accept your resignation. You still have over sixty days, last I checked. I抦 sorry for my fit. You do brilliant work. Hell, most days you work harder, longer, and better than half the senior people here.?I pause. 揧ou抳e become a crucial asset in such a short time. I can抰 give you up without a fight.?
I抦 trying. I really am.
Apparently, not well when she sobs harder.
揑 can抰 work here anymore, M-Mr. Burns. You抣l think棓
揑 don抰 think anything,?I rush out.
揧es, you do. You think棓
I stop her by rubbing my hand up and down her arm in slow circles.
Goddamn, if we weren抰 having this melancholy heart-to-heart, my blood would be molten. Even now, I can smell her, and it unscrews my brain in the very worst ways.
揥oman, the only thing I think is that you抮e damned talented. Even that little diddy I lost my shit over梚t was creative and well-written. I can see why personal writing gives you rather unique copywriting skills.?
揃ut棓 She sobs. 揃ut you were right. It was totally inappropriate. Out of line. And now you just…you know. You saw what I wrote about棓
揗iss Poe,?I clip, silencing her.
I force back a smile that抯 beyond inappropriate and immediately regret it when I notice Dakota抯 whole face is red. She抯 stiff and sobbing, spiraling into a full-blown panic.
Nothing funny about that.
Not even seeing her go to pieces over me finding out I抦 in her most private thoughts in ways I never imagined should make me grin.
揗iss Poe, I know what you wrote. Technically, yes, it is inappropriate since we抮e both colleagues here. However, I also say it doesn抰 matter,?I growl, pushing my fingers through hers. I don抰 know if that抣l make this worse and I抦 past caring. It抯 what feels right. 揥ho hasn抰 stepped in shit from time to time? We spend a lot of time together, and frankly, there抯 no one else I抎 rather argue with.?
She looks up at me, moving one hand off her face and wiping her eyes with her other hand.
揊ighting? About cinnamon rolls??
My lips quirk up into a cautious smile.
揈specially about cinnamon rolls. Honestly, your fevered words might be the most interesting thing anyone抯 ever written about me. Considering the way the press stalks me from time to time, that抯 saying something.?I look at her gently, pausing as she gets her breath back. 揑抦 well aware I抳e had you working yourself raw for weeks now. I抦 impressed you still manage to squeeze in literary pursuits with the workload I抳e piled on your shoulders. You抮e a talented woman, no matter what you抮e writing. You抮e a fountain of words梕pic and embarrassing words梐nd the sooner you learn to laugh off this incident, the quicker you can get back out there and make it rain for everyone at Haughty But Nice.?
With my free hand, I cross my fingers. I抦 hoping like hell the pep talk works.
揕augh??she repeats numbly.
I nod.
揑 don抰 get it. If you weren抰 mad, why did you pull me in here??She doesn抰 say anything else, but the accusation is clear. Rat bastard, you knew this would be mortifying.
She thinks I toyed with her intentionally.
And it抯 a fair accusation because I did.
揑 wanted to shake you up. I just went about it in the worst way possible,?I say, looking past her and out the window at an eerily peaceful cityscape outside. 揧ou抳e heard people say I抦 a loose cannon around here. Unpredictable. Demanding. That抯 how I抳e kept my crew on its toes梠nly, sometimes I really am Captain Dipshit as you so eloquently named me a while ago. I can抰 deny you need to be more careful with the attachments you send out, and I抦 sure you抣l be the first to agree. I butchered the delivery, though, and I抦 sorry.?
She looks down, then up again, searching my eyes to decipher whether or not the apology feels genuine.
揗aybe you should use separate devices for work and art,?I say. Of course, it dawns on me just then that I could have told her that without letting her know which attachment she sent.
I really am a jackass incarnate.
Maybe some warped part of me wanted her to know that I know she wants me.
揑抣l be more careful. Sorry,?she says softly.
揇on抰 be too sorry. I抦 the only one who should be apologizing. I never wanted to upset you. I抦 proud of what you抳e accomplished in the short time you抳e been here, Dakota Poe.?
Her name rolls off my tongue too easily.
And when we lock eyes, I see something new in the unsettled green and gold and ivory of her face. It抯 the wildness and solitude of her namesake梩he roughness and beauty of a girl named Dakota, her soul swept with all the biting winds and harsh sunny days of life.
I hold out an arm. She leans into me over the padded armrest of the chair.
Just like that, I hug her tightly, and I probably linger too long before getting up.
When I抦 on my feet again, I grab a tissue and hand it to her.
揧ou can抰 go back out there looking like that. The whole company will be after me with pitchforks if they think I made you cry,?I say gently.
With a lopsided smile, she takes the tissue and blots her eyes.
揙h, I doubt that. For some reason, they like you. Most people,?she adds, leaving me to wonder if she抯 one of my honest haters.
Not that I can blame her, after today.
揙nly because they don抰 know me,?I say, smoothing my tie.
揜ight. All of your employees agree you抮e a total workaholic, but they think you care about them, I guess.?
揂nd what do you think, Nevermore??Another question I shouldn抰 ask.
Why does it matter too much to avoid?
It matters what she thinks of me, how she sees me.