2.12

He was here.

In the department store where she worked.

In Paramus.

Charles Brooks, her boss, her boss's boss, was standing in front of her, asking her to come back to work.

Liza wished she could tell him how badly she wanted to return, but she knew doing something would put the well-being of the company at risk, and she cared about the people at Empirical too much to take that chance. She cared about Charles too much to take that chance.

The honesty of that thought caused her breath to hitch slightly; she hadn't yet allowed herself to admit the existence of the long-growing feelings she had for him.

But here he was. How he had found her, she had no idea. He had sought her out himself and had come to make a personal appeal. What kind of person does that?

After they had come to an understanding, he started to walk away, but paused after a few steps. He turned back toward her, the intensity of his gaze both startling and electrifying.

"While you're at it, think about this." His tall stature had him back in front of her in two strides. He cradled her head in his hands and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

Every one of her nerve endings felt like it was ablaze, and it was a feeling all too brief. Liza had just begun to really kiss him back when he pulled away. "I...will definitely give that a lot of thought," she said, shock still running through her.

He gave her a shy, contended smile and left the store.

Liza heard a gasp and squeal from behind her. "Oh my god! You really are good with customers!" her friend and co-worker teased.

Liza groaned. "Ugh, Penny."

Penny grinned and gave her a wink. "I don't know what you're moaning about, my friend. If a man like that came into this place and laid one on me, there would be cartoon smoke and tread from how fast I chased him."

Liza rolled her eyes, but returned her friend's smile. "Well, there won't be any cartoon moments for me."

Penny gave her a quizzical look. "Um, why the hell not?" She looked around conspiratorially then whispered, "Was it a bad kiss?"

Liza let out a hearty guffaw. "God, no. I wish it had been longer."

Penny quirked an eyebrow at her. "So...what's the problem?"

Liza sighed. "He doesn't know I'm 40."

"Ohhh, he's embroiled in your publishing job debacle. Was he the one you were working for?"

"Sort of. He's my boss's boss."

"So he's..." Penny's eyes grew wide. "He's the boss? The boss came here to convince you to come back to work and made you weak in the knees?"

Liza nodded. "And so I can't risk his company's good standing by coming clean about my lie."

Penny scoffed. "Oh, please. Coming clean now is infinitely better than coming clean later, or not at all. Now you control the narrative, and if there's any blowback, it's easier to knock you down the totem pole a bit, if anyone even knows who you are. No offense."

"None taken." Liza replied, taking a moment to absorb her friend's words. Was Penny right? Would it be better for her admit what she had done?

Charles had children, so surely he would understand, or at least be willing to cut her some slack. And she was a good employee, wasn't she? Or else why would he have come here himself? Yes, he had kissed her, but not before he had commended her as an employee and emphasized how much she was needed. He could've shown up on her doorstep and kissed her. But he came here, straight from the office it seemed, to try and convince her to come back.

"So...what are you gonna do?" Penny asked her. "Do you need me to fudge your time card a bit?"

God, she was a great friend. Liza made a mental note to re-prioritize her New Jersey friends like Penny, who "had never liked that teeth cleaning weasel anyway."

She gave her friend a hug of gratitude and sped to the employee lounge to grab her things. But once she was outside the mall, she realized she had no idea what exactly she was going to do, let alone what she would say.

She could probably take the subway or the train, but she needed less noise and less people in order to sort out her thoughts. An Uber to Manhattan would be pricey, but at this hour at least she wouldn't be hit with surge rates, and she could use the longer commute to come up with a plan.

After she had climbed into the black sedan, she opened the Notes app and began to type.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to make this her destination, but when she reached the stoop of the brownstone, Liza knew it was the right choice.

Anxiety bubbled up furiously, threatening to steal her nerve, but she pushed it aside before it could overtake her and rang the buzzer.

It didn't take long for him to appear. "Liza?"

"I'm so sorry to bother you," she began, her words coming out in quick succession. "I just, um, you know, was in the neighborhood. Just thought I would stop by and say long time no see! You know, because I just saw you. In New Jersey. Just a little bit ago. I'm sorry, I'm babbling. I do that when I'm nervous. I'm going to stop talking now."

Charles looked at her with amusement, his eyes (god his eyes) twinkling. "No apology necessary. Would you...would you like to come in?"

"Oh, I couldn't. I don't want to intrude or break up time with your girls."

Charles took a step back, making room for her to come inside. "No intrusion. The girls are at a sleepover, so my only plan for the evening was to finally watch something that isn't animated."

Liza chuckled as she passed him in the doorway. "I know how that goes."

He shut the door and gave her a puzzled look. "Do you have children?"

Liza took a deep breath, praying that he wouldn't hate her in five minutes. "Could we sit?"

Feeling slightly unnerved, Charles gestured toward the sofa. "Drink?"

Liza didn't really need one, but she wanted something to do with her hands, so she nodded. "I'll have what you're having."

He brought her his favorite bourbon and sat an appropriate distance away from her. "What is it?"

She could tell she had made him nervous, so she decided it would be best to just spit it out. "I'm not 26. I'm 40. I do have children, a daughter named Caitlin. She's 19 and she insisted on watching The Hunchback of Notre Dame every day for a week when she was five. She also asked if she could legally change her name to Ariel at one point. So that's, um, how I understand the strong desire to watch something that has nothing to do with Disney."

Charles just stared at her, his eyes widening just a fraction on his otherwise unreadable face.

"I'm not, like, a con artist or a spy or a catfisher or anything like that. It's an extremely long story, but the short of it is, my soon-to-be ex-husband cheated and lost all of our money, including our daughter's college fund. So I had no money and no desire to tell her that her college dreams had to be put on hold. So I lied about my age to get a job. I worked in publishing before Caitlin was born and for a little while after, but several years experience almost two decades ago was meaningless; nobody wanted to hire a 40-year-old. And so here we are."

Charles still hasn't moved. Liza felt panic start to rise up inside of her. Then he took a drink of his bourbon and set it aside.

"So you're saying you are a 40-year-old co-founder of a millennial-based imprint?"

Liza nodded, the evenness of his voice making her feel uneasy.

He rubbed his jaw, still giving nothing away.

Then, without warning, he began to laugh. First just a little snicker, then a full-on belly laugh.

Liza was completely bewildered. This had not been anywhere near her radar of expected reactions.

Finally, he seemed to get ahold of himself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing. I just can't believe I didn't see it. All of the signs were there. The only thing contradicting all the 40-year-old things about you was your word. In hindsight, you're actually a very bad millennial."

He wasn't mad. He was amused. Okay.

Feeling a little freer, Liza gave him a look of mock indignation. "Just my word? Not my stunning youthful appearance?"

And he actually blushed. He blushed and he tried to hide the smile that started to form. Failing miserably, he instead turned away from her to grab his drink, next attempting to conceal his face with his glass.

Liza smiled back at him over the top of hers, taking a long drink in the hopes of gaining some liquid courage.

Charles cleared his throat. "So, uh...why now? Why come clean to me?"

"I just...gave it some thought."

"And?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to come back to work. As myself. As 40-year-old Liza who has a 19-year-old daughter and is in the middle of a divorce. I'll accept any consequences that are necessary, if it hurts the company. I can even step away, briefly, if I need. I don't want to jeopardize your life."

Charles scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his. "You're not jeopardizing my life. We — the company — can handle this. If anything, you've made my life a lot easier."

Liza arched an eyebrow. "How?"

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Because now I'm not the 42-year-old boss falling in love with a 26-year-old assistant and junior editor."

Oh.

He looked so vulnerable to her in that moment, waiting on bated breath for her response. While she had spoken her truth to clear the air, he had revealed some truths of his own, just for the sake of honesty.

She didn't know what knocked her off-kilter more: his not being angry or his admission of feelings. Either way, she was almost too stunned to speak, but taking in the hope in his features, laid bare before her, she managed to find the words.

"And I'm not a 26-year-old assistant and junior editor falling in love with her boss."

The relief and delight that emitted from him seemed to be contagious, washing over Liza and leaving her with a giddy high.

"We can't go back to how we were after this," she said, moving closer to him.

"I hope not."

Liza grinned. "So you concur?"

"Dear god, yes."

She couldn't help but giggle at his unapologetic transparency. "How does this work, then? When we're at work?" Liza asked him. "You're the boss. We have a reporting relationship."

"That's true, but you're not just an assistant anymore. You're a junior editor and co-founder of an imprint." Charles reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "People meet at work all the time."

They sat there for a moment more, taking in the magnitude of what had just transpired, prolonging the crossing of a line that couldn't be taken back.

Liza leaned her forehead against his. "Are you sure about this?"

Instead of answering, Charles inclined his head so their lips were just millimeters apart. And then he whispered, "Yes."

She closed the minuscule gap that remained between them, putting into this kiss what she hadn't had time for at the mall.

If this was what kissing Charles was like, Liza would be happy to keep doing it for the rest of her life.