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The next time I have to meet him it's raining, so we agree to meet in my car in a parking garage halfway between our offices. It's late and dark. Hank walks over and gets in my black SUV like he's done it a thousand times before. Like we're friends and he doesn't have $5,000 in "street tax" in his pocket. This must be why the gang members respect him. He has no intention of taking any shit off of anybody, and it's apparent.
"This from Bones?" I ask.
"Yeah. I think he must have robbed that mobile phone store because he didn't whine about handing that over this time."
"I don't need guesses, I need useable Intel." I stick the envelope in my console.
"That is usable. Check the cameras, look for clothing that matches that gang."
"I need more than that Hank."
"You know what I think you need, Gradishar?"
Oh God, you never know what he's going to say, so I answer for him.
"A house in the Hamptons where it's warm? Yes, that would be fantastic. Until then, I need to be putting some heavy hitters behind bars."
He could not be deterred. "I think you need a nice dinner."
"You know what? I do! As soon as you get out of the car, I will."
"You shouldn't eat dinner alone. Let me take you out."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "No, I think eating with you would ruin my appetite."
"That's what you say now, but I wonder what you would say if I reached across this console and grabbed your face and put my mouth on your mouth?"
I held my breath. How big were this man's balls? I could end him for that. Of course, it would be hard to prove that he had said it. I inhale through my nose and look out the windshield at nothing. It was all I could do not to stare at his lips.
"Don't tell me that you're one of those guys who thinks he's God's gift to women? Let me guess, some 18-year-old girl once told you that you were good in bed and now you think you are."
I had said it in a very dry voice. Now I looked at him as if I was bored. He smirked. Hank knew what he was and who he was. That was what made him so hard to back down.
"How long?"
"How long what?" I wrinkled up my eyebrows in what I hoped was an intimidating expression, but my heart skipped a beat because I knew what he was about to insinuate.
"You know what. How long since you had a man hold you down on a bed and give you what you wanted? How long since you had a man make you pant? How long has your hair been up in that neat bun and not a tangled mess on a pillow?"
I cursed myself for pausing. I was stupid for taking a breath before shutting him down after the first comment. I was stupid for pausing now. But some small twisted part of me, deep in the recesses of my brain wanted to know if he would be like that in bed. If he would be a man that would take control, and give a girl a break. The problem with being a supervisor is that you had to make so many decisions. At the end of the day, I did want a man who knew what to do and who did it without stopping to ask for directions.
"You!" I started to tear him down, to tell him just how unattractive he was. I started to tell him how he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with me but then he did it. He did what no man had been able to get up the guts to do in 2 years. He grabbed me by the chin and kissed me.
Fireworks crackled in my brain. Exploding stars clouded my vision and my ears were filled with the sound of it. Hank twisted his mouth over mine and I sat there, like a 20-year-old secretary happy for the acknowledgment. He pulled back a few inches from my face, but he still held my chin in his fingers. He took a breath and looked in my eyes.
"Damn you, Hank," I said, gasping for breath. "I've never been inappropriate at work, but you just had to pull me off of that ledge, didn't you?"
"I could see you trying to work up the courage to jump, and after so many months in prison, I'm ready for anything."
"You ready to get punched in the face? That's what I should do to you."
"But you won't. I've been where you're at. You're top dog and everyone's scared of you, no one wants to get close to you. And no one outside of work understands you. It's lonely at the top."
He said it in his very matter-of-fact way of speaking, and it was a fact. Being the boss gave you an air that made you seem untouchable, and women need to be touched. I leaned over and kissed him again. Reaching across the console I pulled him closer. We kissed for a while. When he reached across the SUV with his other hand and slid his hand up my arm, I pulled back and looked away. It was too much. A week ago this man wanted to toss me in the East River. This was crazy.
"Alright, enough. We both know this isn't going anywhere."
"You know, you don't have to like someone to screw them. They have this thing now, called friends with benefits."
"Yeah." I said dryly, "In my day that was called being a slut."
"Well, it's a new day. We don't have to be friends to screw. Screwing doesn't mean we're betrothed."
"So what? Enemies with benefits?" I said sarcastically.
"How's about me being a co-worker with husband benefits? I'm not going to marry you, you don't want to take me home to your parents. We just need each other during certain moments."
I started to take stock of my life. How had I gotten to this point? Sneaking around in parking garages to get goals accomplished at work. I had been thinking a lot lately but it hadn't really gotten me anywhere, or at least, it hadn't gotten me any farther. So I stopped thinking and just did what my first instinct was.
"Fine. But we can't go to your home or mine, so where?"
"I am certain this is why hotels exist." Hank was smirking again.