A/N- Still own nothing. Sorry it's so late, I've been busy with school. At least it's a little longer this time!

Chapter Five


Let's see... finished all of the filing, proofread Albert– Mr. Peterson's statement for the papers, planned tomorrow's meeting...

Rose shrugged on her coat and picked up her purse. Was there anything else she needed to–

Right! Rose dropped her purse and exchanged it for a pen and paper. Mr. Peterson still needs the contact information for that new client. She scribbled down the man's address and phone number and tore the few lines of writing from the rest of the page.

Rose picked up her purse again and stopped by Mr. Peterson's desk on her way out of the office.

"Mr. Peterson?" He looked up and Rose stuck out her hand, offering him the scrap of paper. "Here's the address you needed."

She didn't know exactly how it happened. But Mr. Peterson had always been an awkward man, and the slip of paper was quite small, and– the next thing Rose knew her heart was racing. It was just a gentle brush of his hand against hers, but it was enough to make her skin tingle, her nerves jump. Rose felt her face grow hot and she quickly turned away before Mr. Peterson could see.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she hurried abruptly from the office.

Albert sat frozen at his desk, hand still outstretched from when he took the paper scrap from Ms. Alvarez. He felt a lump forming in his throat and tried to swallow it down, but he found he couldn't shake the effects of one simple touch of his secretary's hand.

Finally his hand dropped and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"I must be losing my mind," he mumbled, still staring blankly in the direction in which Ms. Alvarez walked out. Or did Ms. Alvarez also feel something when our hands touched?

Albert shook his head and got to his feet, shrugging his jacket on and picking up his briefcase. "No, it... it can't be," he told himself. "Ms. Alvarez wouldn't–"

He couldn't find the right words, but somehow he knew, he was sure; Ms. Alvarez passed him a slip of paper, and then she walked out the door. No magic moment, no special touch. Nothing of importance just happened between Ms. Alvarez and himself. He could hope, but...


Eleven o'clock. Lunchtime again. As always, Mr. Peterson was working away with a new song, suit jacket hanging off the back of his chair, sleeves pushed up past his elbows. Completely oblivious to the world around him.

Until Rose approached his desk and laid a hand on his arm for the briefest moment; he jumped in his seat and she acted as though nothing happened.

"I'm off to get lunch. Do you want your usual?"

"I– sorry, what?" he stammered, turning to Rose and suddenly appearing panicked and out of breath.

Rose rolled her eyes. "I'm leaving to pick up lunch, Mr. Peterson. Do you want your usual?"

Mr. Peterson composed himself and nodded. "Yes, that would be fine. Thank you, Ms. Alvarez."

Rose flashed him a quick smile before turning on her heel and exiting the office.

The moment she was out of earshot of Mr. Peterson, Rose groaned and let her shoulders sag.

I have no idea what could have possible possessed me to do that, she thought pitifully, touching his arm like that. The poor man jumped clear out of his seat! And I don't think it was just because I startled him...

Meanwhile, Albert was still reeling in silent shock.

First it was the touch of their hands exchanging that slip of paper on Monday. Albert brushed that off as a simple accident.

But then it happened again on Tuesday; Rose was passing him a pen, and their hands touched.

And on Wednesday, it wasn't a pen or a scrap of paper; it was his lunch bag. Albert could have sworn she let her hand linger that time, remaining in contact with his for a fraction of a second longer than it needed to.

By the time Rose brushed by him on his way out of the office on Thursday, her hip just grazing his, Albert was sure she was doing it on purpose. And after today, he was absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Ms. Alvarez was orchestrating all of those small touches; they couldn't possibly all be accidents.

And it was driving him crazy.

Because Albert wasn't going to lie to himself any longer. He was– well, he was starting to– develop feelings for Ms. Alvarez.

There. He said it. Or thought it, at least.

He had tried to avoid it. He really did. After all, they work together, and Mama would never approve, and... if Albert were honest with himself, he didn't think there was a chance Ms. Alvarez would return his feelings. Not because she disliked Albert, or anything like that. But simply because he was Albert, and she was Ms. Alvarez. Smart and capable and confident and–

"Beautiful," Albert murmured aloud. It was true. She was. Albert began to notice it that day he found himself unable to stop smiling at the thought of her. At the thought of her smiling at him.

He finally admitted it. He was starting to fall for Ms. Alvarez.


Rose was stuck waiting in line at the cafe, foot tapping impatiently as the crowd inched slowly along. On top of the exasperated frustration she felt was the sense of embarrassment that curled up in Rose's stomach, squirming about as the memory from earlier refused to go away.

"Of all the stupid things I could have done," she muttered under her breath. "The man won't even call me by my first name, and here I am touching him all over."

The line moved up slightly, and Rose heaved a sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she murmured. "This past week, I just..."

We've known each other for some time now, Rose told herself, trying to sound convincing. Surely after working with someone for a year, you're bound to become friends with him. And there's nothing wrong with a few touches here and there between friends. I do it with Mary all the time, tapping her shoulder, nudging her arm to get her attention. So really, there's nothing wrong with doing it with Mr. Peterson. Nothing at all...