The following week ran cleanly.
Two-word replies. One brief call, professional and purposeful. I declined coffee on Tuesday. Wednesday I worked through lunch. Thursday I was genuinely buried in the Q4 projection and didn't think about him for four hours, which I noted with the satisfaction of a woman winning a small and slightly embarrassing argument with herself.
The system held.
Friday he texted at noon: Saturday free? The Georgetown project has a tie-in I want your read on. Nothing major.
A work reason. A legitimate one. I sat with it for a moment, aware of what I was doing and why, and then wrote back: Saturday works. What time?
And thought: see. Controlled.
He came to the flat.
His suggestion the documents were on his laptop and mine, and the flat was closer to where he was sta
