I walk into my office, the sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows as I set down my coffee on the pristine glass desk. The scent of fresh espresso fills the room, but something feels⦠off. Itâs been gnawing at me for a while now â that feeling that Iâm losing control.
âMorning, Alex,â Clara says, her voice flat as she hands me the stack of reports I requested. Her once vibrant hazel eyes now seem dull, and her smile doesnât reach them anymore. I notice sheâs wearing the same navy blouse she wore last week when we had that⦠moment. But thereâs no trace of that spark in her now.
âThanks,â I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. âHey, did you get a chance to check out that new sushi place on Fifth? You mentioned you wanted to try it.â
âUh, yeah, I went there with some friends. It was⦠fine,â she says, avoiding eye contact. She used to light up when talking about food, but now she sounds disinterested.
âClara,â I say, putting the reports down and leaning against my desk. âIs everything okay? Youâve seemed a bit⦠distant lately.â
âEverythingâs fine, Mr. Blaese,â she replies quickly. It stings, but I donât correct her, wondering why she would switch to being so formal. âJust been busy with work stuff. If thatâs all, I have some tasks to finish up.â
âAlright,â I say, nodding slowly. âIf you need anything, just let me know.â
âOf course,â she mumbles before slipping out of my office, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I watch her go, frustration building inside me like a storm. Something has changed between us, and I canât put my finger on what it is. We were close â closer than a boss should be with his intern, I admit. But since that night when our lips met in a heated, unexpected kiss, sheâs been pulling away from me.
I slam my office door shut and lean against it, feeling the anger and confusion bubbling up inside me. What did I do wrong? Thatâs the question that has been eating away at me for days now. Claraâs distant behavior is like a splinter under my skin, irritating me every time I catch a glimpse of her avoiding eye contact or giving terse replies.
âDammit,â I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair. I need to clear my head, figure this whole mess out, and find a way to make things right again.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, startling me from my thoughts. The screen displays a text from my brother James:
Hey Alex, howâs everything going?
Could be better, I respond, letting out a sigh. Meet me at OâMalleyâs after work? Need some advice.
Sure thing. See you there.
Thanks, man.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and straighten my tie, trying to regain my composure. If anyone can help me get to the bottom of this, itâs James. He always knows what to say to put things into perspective.
The hours drag on, and finally, the clock strikes six. I grab my coat and hurry out of the office, eager to meet with James and talk through my frustrations. The brisk evening air hits me as I step outside, the city alive with people rushing home or to their evening plans. As I walk down the street toward OâMalleyâs, I canât help but replay the events of the past few days in my head, searching for any clue as to what went wrong between Clara and me.
âDamn puzzles,â I mutter under my breath, feeling more lost than ever.
OâMalleyâs comes into view, its warm, inviting glow a beacon in the darkness. I push open the door and am immediately greeted with the familiar scent of stale beer and well-worn wood. I spot James sitting at our usual booth, nursing a glass of whiskey. He looks up as I approach, his eyes studying me intently.
âHey man.â His eyes take me in. âWhatâs going on?â I offer one quick shake of my head, the scowl on my face already deepening. âRight. Letâs get you a drink first.â
The dimly lit pub offers a reprieve from the chaos of my mind, and I look up as the server brings a whiskey over. The aged wood of our favorite booth creaks in protest as we settle in. Itâs a familiar sound that usually brings comfort, but tonight it only serves to remind me of how little I understand about Claraâs recent behavior.
âHave you heard from Dad lately?â James asks, taking a sip of his drink.
âTalked to him last week,â I reply, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. âHeâs still going on about his latest golf score.â
James chuckles. âSounds like him. Heâll never let us forget the one time he managed to beat both of us.â
âTrue,â I agree, the corners of my mouth quirking up in a half-hearted smile. âBut I donât think he can ever replicate that miracle shot again.â
âProbably not,â James concedes, his eyes studying me closely. âSo, whatâs been bothering you? Youâre more fidgety than a cat at a dog show.â
I hesitate, swirling the amber liquid in my glass as I consider how to broach the subject. âItâs just⦠somethingâs been off with Clara.â My voice is low, almost a whisper. âSheâs been distant â like thereâs an invisible wall between us.â
âClara?â James raises an eyebrow.
âSheâs myâ¦employee.â I cringe as I say it and Jamesâ eyes widen.
âAh,â James says knowingly. âYou two kissed, didnât you?â
âDoes everyone know?â I groan, pressing a hand to my forehead. âThis is probably all over the office.â
âRelax,â James reassures me, one hand patting my shoulder. âI can just tell youâre worked up and knew it had to be something along those lines.â He smirks. âIâm honestly surprised it isnât worse.â
âStill,â I sigh, taking a sip of whiskey. âI didnât think it would turn into such a mess.â
âRelationships can be messy, Alex,â James says softly. âBut you canât let it eat away at you. If Clara is as smart as you say she is, sheâll come around.â
âMaybe,â I murmur, unconvinced. âOr maybe Iâm just a fool for thinking that anything could ever happen between us.â
âHey,â James chides gently. âDonât sell yourself short. Youâre one hell of a catch, brother.â
âThanks,â I reply, my voice tinged with sarcasm. âThatâs what I keep telling myself.â
âTrust me,â James insists, his gaze unwavering. âGive it time. And in the meantime, focus on being the best boss you can be. Everything else will fall into place.â
âAlright,â I agree reluctantly, downing the rest of my whiskey. âIâll try.â
âGood,â James nods, finishing his own drink. âNow, why donât you tell me what happened?â
I take a deep breath, the scent of whiskey and oak mingling in the air around us. âIt started when we worked late one night,â I begin hesitantly, my eyes focused on the amber liquid swirling in my glass. âWe shared some personal stories and, wellâ¦we kissed.â
âThat doesnât sound as hot as I was expecting.â James raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. âIt sounds more personal.â
âYeah,â I admit reluctantly, taking a sip of my drink. âAfter that, everything changed. Sheâs been distant, avoiding me whenever she can.â
James leans back in his seat, sipping his own whiskey thoughtfully. âWhat happened before the kiss? Any signs that things were off between you two?â
âNone,â I reply, racking my brain for any clues I might have missed. âShe was always eager to take on responsibilities, and we had great conversations. It seemed like we were getting along really well.â
âCould it be that sheâs feeling overwhelmed?â James suggests, his voice low and measured. âYou said sheâs a recent graduate, right? Maybe sheâs struggling with the sudden change from school to work life.â
âMaybe,â I consider, tapping my fingers against the side of my glass. âBut it feels like thereâs more to it than that. Like sheâs deliberately shutting me out.â
âHave you talked to her about it?â James asks, leaning forward intently.
âI tried once, but she brushed it off and quickly left the room,â I sigh. âI donât want to push her, but at the same time, I need to know whatâs going on.â
âAlright, letâs think this through,â James says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. âWhat has Clara done differently since the kiss? Any specific incidents that stand out?â
âLetâs see,â I say, recalling the past few days. âSheâs been skipping out on our usual coffee runs, avoiding my office like the plague, and keeping our conversations strictly professional.â
âSounds like sheâs trying to create some distance,â James observes. âCould it be that she regrets the kiss?â
âPerhaps,â I acknowledge, frustration simmering beneath the surface. âBut why? Itâs not like I forced her into it or anything. We both wanted it.â
âMaybe sheâs worried about how it might affect her job,â James suggests, his eyes narrowing as he thinks. âSheâs probably heard stories about workplace romances going sour, especially between bosses and interns.â
âTrue,â I concede, taking another sip of whiskey. âBut Iâve always treated her with respect, and I have no intention of jeopardizing her career.â
âLook, Alex,â James says, reaching across the table to grip my arm reassuringly. âYouâre a good guy, and Clara knows that. Give her some time to process everything. Sheâll come around eventually.â
I nod slowly, allowing myself to absorb his words. James has always been the voice of reason in my life, and right now, his perspective is exactly what I need.
âThanks, James,â I say, finishing off my drink. âI appreciate the advice.â
I swirl the ice cubes in my glass, listening to them clink against each other like a rhythmic chorus. My grip on the tumbler tightens as I mull over his words. Heâs right, but it doesnât make this any easier.
I take a slow sip of whiskey. The liquid fire slides down my throat, bringing with it a sense of warmth that momentarily distracts me from the cold knot of doubt lodged in my gut. âBut what if she never comes around? What if this is it for us?â
James chuckles, shaking his head. âYouâre overthinking it, brother. Just give her some space and let her process what happened.â
I know heâs trying to help, and I appreciate it, but I canât help feeling like Iâve messed up royally with Clara. Sheâs more than just an intern â sheâs become a friend, someone I genuinely care about. And now, because of one impulsive act, Iâve jeopardized it all.
âAlright,â I sigh, setting down my empty glass. âThanks for the pep talk. Iâll try to take your advice to heart.â
âGood man,â James says, patting me on the shoulder. âRemember, youâre not alone in this. Iâm here for you, no matter what happens.â
That does it. A sudden wave of relief washes over me, so strong it almost takes my breath away. For the first time since this whole mess began, I feel like maybe, just maybe, thereâs a light at the end of the tunnel. I canât see it yet, but knowing itâs there gives me the strength to keep moving forward.
âThanks, James,â I say with a grateful smile as we clink our glasses together one last time. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
âLetâs hope you never have to find out,â he replies, grinning. âNow come on, letâs get out of here. Weâve got work to do tomorrow, and we both know how much you hate being unprepared for meetings.â
âUgh, donât remind me,â I groan, getting to my feet. The sound of barstools scraping against the floor fills my ears as we make our way to the door, stepping out into the night and leaving the warm glow of the pub behind us. As we head home, I feel the weight on my shoulders lightening with every step, replaced by a newfound resolve to make things right with Clara, no matter what it takes.