The snow was still falling she heard the wind pick up. She was glad not to be sitting on a bench waiting for him, but sitting in her office instead. Two brown boxes sat on the desk waiting to be collected. There was also a small package resting on top of the boxes, shiny red paper wrapped with a white ribbon
The door closed his footsteps echoed through the silent showroom. He was dressed smart in a charcoal suit, a cashmere scarf draped around his neck. She wondered where he was coming from, where he'd be going after this. It wasn't information she was entitled to, but she was curious nonetheless.
Instead of dropping into the chair opposite her he sat on the edge of her desk, his legs stretched out toward her. His eyes drifted down to take her in. The V-neck of her dark red sweater was just low enough to give him a glimpse of her cleavage. It was enough to make his mind wander. His eyes continued to drag down her she hoped that the heat she felt wasn't evident on her face. When his eyes met hers he smiled. It softened him, she thought, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.
His head tilted to the side, gesturing toward the items on the desk.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Your cut," she told him.
"No," he said, his hand patting the gift. "What's this?"
Feeling a bit self conscious she said, "I made you something!" Her voice was much higher than usual.
The corners of his mouth turned up even more. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket pulled out a wrapped box, setting it down on the desk.
She hadn't expected anything from him. As she made his gift she thought it was probably stupid, but she wanted to do it anyway. She hadn't let herself mull over the reason; she told herself she needed a project to keep busy.
He picked up the package unwrapped it. He held the black knit hat, turning it over in his hands. He'd never received a handmade gift before from anyone other than his son. He was more touched than he'd like to admit that she had taken the time to make something for him.
"Thank you," he simply said.
She nodded, feeling strangely emotional not trusting her words. It was the holidays getting to her, she told herself.
He slid the box he had brought closer to her. She picked it up. It looked professionally wrapped. With him though it was never safe to assume. She'd seen the way he meticulously kept his closet, his sweaters jeans neatly folded stacked just so. Her finger slid through the tape holding the heavy paper together revealing a black box. It distinctly looked like the packaging from her favorite jewelry store her heart skipped a beat.
They hadn't discussed exchanging gifts now she was thinking perhaps they should have. There were a hell of a lot of things they should have discussed.
They'd been dancing around this for months. When she had said she was done with all of it he had respected that, even after they were back in business together. He'd lost track of all of the times he had wanted to make the first move, knowing it wasn't up to him no matter how much he wanted it. But she'd be standing in front of him he couldn't help but brush her hair back from her face. She had let it grow out he wondered whether it was because he told her he liked it.
It had been a Tuesday when she slipped into his car in an empty parking lot. He didn't know why she had texted him asking to meet her, but he had been in the area anyway. Her mouth was on his before he could say hello, her actions full of need. Had she fought with Dean, was one of the kids giving her a hard time, was she frustrated again with the percentage he was taking? It didn't matter to him. He didn't know how long it would last so he swore he would enjoy it to the fullest while he could.
Opening the box she stared at the delicate gold chain, a tiny "E" dangling in the center. It was simple, understated: It was perfect.
Slowly he got up from the desk. He took the box from her hands, removing the necklace. As he moved behind her she swept her hair up. He clasped the chain around her neck, his touch lingering.
Her head swam with a million thoughts, the most pressing being what the hell were they doing. She thought of one Friday in particular in his bed, but it was more than that. It was this - the longing, the stares, now the gifts. It was everything they didn't dare say, fearing how it might change things if they spoke it out loud.
So for now she would stick to the way they knew how to communicate. She was on her feet, turning to face him, reaching for him.
This was easier; this they didn't need to think about. When it came to sex there was nothing to conceal, no need to hold back.
He backed her into the desk. She bit his lip he remembered biting his own thinking about getting her on top of that desk at the dealership. He was right: She did look so much better on top of a desk than behind one.
Their movements were slow, languid, intentional. They were tender, sensual. As they moved together it was like they were breaking their silence, betraying the pact they had unknowingly made not to define what they were, because they were laying it all on the line now. It was written in soft touches strong embraces. There was no denying that this was something, something more than physical. The way they held onto each other solidified that.
xxxxx
After he tugged her sweater back over her head she touched the necklace that hung below her throat. "Thank you, by the way."
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Dinner Saturday?" he asked, feigning a casual tone.
She smiled at him. "I'd like that."
No business, no bullshit, he thought. Just the two of them on an actual date for once.
Unwrapping himself from her, he tugged on the black knit hat smiled back at her. "Merry Christmas, Elizabeth."
"Merry Christmas, Rio."
He stood there for a moment, taking her in again. It was looking like it was going to be a happy new year as well.
