Kent Tialys could count the number of times that he'd ever been in irreparable trouble on one hand. Oh, trouble was easy enough to get into as a project manager in a large insurance company, and easier still when most of his coworkers were eccentric in their own right. Between the absentminded and accident-prone copy guy and the epileptic, grammar-obsessed secretary, Kent thought he had learned how to handle the very worst in his workplace that he could imagine.
The present situation only served to prove that Kent had a rather limited imagination when it came to monstrous trouble.
His square glasses were lying on the dirty linoleum floor, his back against the stall wall and his tie askew. With his blazer unbuttoned and his shirt untucked, he looked as put-together as that silly copy guy; less so, with his collar popped and his red hair mussed, his eyes squinted as he attempted to see his boss's face clearly through the blur of myopia. Kent had naturally pleaded that someone would be upset with her, but a handful of reassuring words had quelled his feeble protests; despite the nervousness that had his heart hammering in his chest, even Kent's usual responsibility couldn't stand up to precious moments alone with Chief Finance Officer Lyndis Chehalis.
"The door won't lock," Lyn muttered between kisses, her words short and breathless. Her fingers fumbled at his tie, but between the awkward position and her inexperience, she only succeeded in choking him. "Think this'll work?"
With her touch sending shivers down his spine, his usual intellect failed him; he stared uncomprehending at her. Insight struck as she pulled back, concentration fixed on his tie.
"I don't know. Would someone not see it?" he asked, helping her get it undone.
"Oh. Right," Lyn murmured, making a face as she fumbled with the door. "Who would recognize your tie anyway? Won't they just assume it's Sain trying to look like he's not single again?"
"Fair enough," Kent said. His next words were erased at the touch of her lips, glossy-smooth from liberal application of lipstick, clumsily working over his. He responded in kind, equally inept, trying his best to impart some measure of the affection he felt and not just slobber all over her face.
As Lyn pressed herself closer to him, Kent couldn't help but think that fortune had taken a shine to him. His old boss had been in his late seventies, hadn't known any of their names, and had been a stickler for rules. Lycian Shield Insurance Co. had picked Lyn up after Lorca Textiles, Inc. succumbed to the economy and went under. She took to the role of CFO without flinching, managing her underlings on a person-by-person basis and getting to know anyone and everyone with a brash friendliness that was like no suit Kent had ever seen.
He had seen her at a handful of mini-meetings on a project or two, before a corporate dinner at the Red Crane's and a dash of alcohol had prompted him to speak a little more freely to her than he would ever have otherwise. Somehow, that tipsy moment in the Red Crane had led to him hiding in the second-floor men's bathroom two months later with his boss enthusiastically breaking company policy.
Well, no, he amended. I'm breaking company policy, and she's the quote, innocent, end quote, victim of sexual harassment. Still….He had one hand at her shoulder and the other at her waist as hers traced circles in the small of his back and—
The bathroom door opened.
They jumped apart quicker than a pair of cats dropped on a hot stove. Lyn clenched her jaw and held her breath, not daring to even move lest their unexpected visitor hear her. Thinking on his feet, Kent wrapped his arms securely around Lyn and lifted her clear off the floor. She barely contained a yelp of surprise, shooting him a shocked look as he sat on the edge of the toilet and embarrassedly set her on his knee. Her eyes flashed dangerously—he was in for a thorough browbeating as soon as she could speak without the intruder overhearing.
After a moment of paralyzed silence, Kent heard the sound of the sink running, before the door opened and closed again.
"What was that for?" Lyn hissed, pulling back to the far corner. Her slanted eyes narrowed, that fiery temper of hers two steps ahead of Kent's attempts to explain.
"If anyone looked under the door, they would see two pairs of shoes—one in heels, I might add," Kent said. "That was too close, Lyndis…I knew we should have kept this outside of work…"
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" she demanded, bristling despite her forced smile. He nodded gravely and scooped his glasses off the floor, cleaning the lenses with his shirt. Neither made a move towards the other, the bitter taste of fear fresher on their tongues than the taste of the other's lips.
"Whoa, Kent? That you?" someone called from the other side of the partition.
It was at that point, Lyn's fearful eyes locked with his, that Kent realized they had no hope of coming out unscathed. The door opening hadn't been the first man leaving. It had been someone new coming in. Someone who was a hair's breadth away from revealing their secret to the whole corporation.
"Wil? I'm sort of busy…"
Someone snickered.
"Rest assured, Sir Tialys, I can hear that," Kent's friend, Sain, said. "Do mine ears deceive me, or is that indeed the lovely Miss Chehalis with you?"
They didn't speak, but then, they didn't need to. Kent was not one to speak falsities, even if they were words of comfort, and Lyn knew the severity of the situation as well as he did in any case. She shut her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths that failed to erase the worry written on every ounce of her being, shoulders slumped and fists clenched and face flushed a dark red. Kent, in turn, straightened his shirt and replaced his glasses, smoothed out the wrinkles in his khakis and vainly attempted to bring his hair into some measure of order.
"Miss Chehalis?"
"Lyn?" Wil shouted. "Yoo-hoo! It's me, Wil! The copy guy from floor three! I work the scanner!"
"Mr. Donnell! Mr. Bertilak!" Kent barked, a last-ditch defense. "Get back to your cubicles!"
"It's lunch break," Sain said. "Did you lose track of the time?"
Kent's eyes darted to his watch. Twelve o'clock sharp, just as Sain said it was. Lyn nervously licked her lips, smudging some of the only red lipstick that hadn't already been transferred to somewhere on Kent's face. He set his hand consolingly on her shoulder.
She shook him off, and her head snapped up, thin eyebrows set in a scowl and eyes blazing with determination. She undid the tie in an instant, throwing it back to Kent and stepping out, shoulders tossed back and head held high.
Kent followed in her wake, lips parted and eyes wide. For a moment, their danger was forgotten. All he could think of was how beautiful she was, fierce and proud and in control.
"This is Lyndis Chehalis, and I would like to tell you that yes, this is exactly what it looks like. I am indeed skipping work to kiss Mr. Tialys in the men's employee restroom, and I will not beg or plead or threaten. I ask you only that you say nothing of this to anyone else."
Sain shot Kent a smug smirk, and Wil's jaw was hanging so far open that he probably needed help to pick it up off the floor. For all that Kent's face was flushed a dark red, something about Lyn's cool passion had made an impression on them. Perhaps it was her tact—Lyn had all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the back of the head sometimes. To Kent, it represented a glimmer of hope that perhaps everything would turn out all right.
"Sure thing! It's no biggie. Not like I'd talk to anyone except Rebecca anyway, and if you really want me to, I won't even tell her. I promise," Wil said, hand on his heart like he was taking a scout's pledge.
"And you, Mr. Bertilak?" Lyn asked, her calm façade belied by the way she stumbled over her words.
"How could I betray the confidence of such a lovely lady?" he replied with a dashing grin.
"Thank you very much, my friends. You have no idea what this means to me," Lyn said, smiling the exhausted smile of one who just fought through a grueling battle. "Now we can all put this behind us…and never, ever mention this again."
"Of course!" Wil agreed, jaws cracked in a gap-toothed smile.
"For you, my boon companions, I would not talk even if tortured," Sain promised, melodramatic as always.
"Rest assured, I would like nothing better than to push this under the rug forevermore," Kent said, faintly dizzy from the adrenaline that had flooded him. Sure, Sain would never let him live it down, and Wil would certainly ask all sorts of awkward questions over the next couple of weeks, but that was nothing more than the usual brand of trouble, the sort he could handle without flinching. Their company (and his life) was once again operating without a hitch.
Suddenly, the door opened.
"Gwa ha ha! Good day to eat lunch, isn't it? The café downstairs has—what in blazes?"
Lyn nervously chuckled, before she said, in a quiet, squeaky, voice:
"Business as usual."
