Erika sipped her spiced chai latte and stared at her boss.
She was in dangerous territory.
Every professional training program in the history of the world offered caution about workplace relationships, and here she was sitting with a man who paid her bills and made her heart race.
Derrick had come to Richmond this morning to join her and Gabrielle in a series of meetings with local clients. He also had agreed to help her prepare for the National Council for Interior Design exam. But that was before last month, when she had invited him to the cookout at Serena and Micah's. She didn't know now if he was still willing to spend hours with her going over the material. Since the cookout, they had corresponded mostly through Gabrielle, or via email.
Today was a D-day of sorts. She had asked him to meet her early this morning, but she wasn't certain whether to stick to business and talk to him later about their personal issues, or vice versa.
Gabrielle had advised her to get the personal out of the way.
"If you don't, it's going to be hanging between the two of you like the elephant in the room. Our clients will be able to tell. We don't want them to have any concerns."
So here they sat, in Vie De France, the cozy restaurant located in the James Center atrium, in the heart of Richmond's business district. She tore off a piece of her cinnamon scone and popped it into her mouth.
Derrick glanced at his watch and took a sip of coffee. He settled in the booth and, with his eyes and squared jaw, told Erika he wasn't happy with her right now.
"You've grown a goatee," she said.
Derrick’s demeanor didn’t soften. He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the sides of his cup.
"We've got a lot of work to do today, Erika. What do you need to talk to me about?"
She sighed and dabbed her lips with the paper napkin she'd been clutching on her lap.
"I don't know, Derrick. A lot of things, I guess. I don't blame you for not returning my calls, but then again, there's too much between us to play these games."
He frowned. "Erika, maybe you need to look in the mirror."
"Excuse me? I've left you several messages apologizing for making you feel 'used' when you came down last month," she said. "It was a knee-jerk reaction to something Elliott did, and I was wrong. I was dead wrong. But I do care about you, Derrick."
He nodded and adjusted his tie. If nothing else, Erika knew he was still hitting the gym most weeknights. The tailored shirt hugged his bulging arms in the right places. She tried to focus on what he was saying.
"You have a funny way of showing it, Erika. If you're still reacting to the antics of your abusive husband, that says a lot. You need to figure out where you stand with him before you'll ever be able to move forward with another relationship.
"We've talked about this before. You and I are always going to be friends. You are an excellent employee. Nothing has changed since I first expressed how I felt about you; I'm here for you no matter what. But it's been two years, Erika."
Derrick slipped on his suit jacket and shrugged it into place. "You. Know. How. I feel. About. You."
A chill coursed through Erika as he punctuated each word. Elliott used to speak to her that way, but his emphasis always dripped with venom. Derrick's conviction conveyed an emotion she wasn't sure she could handle yet.
She tried to keep her voice from trembling.
"I know, Derrick," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
Why couldn't she tell him that she felt the same?
Derrick sat back and sighed. She could tell that he was wrestling with himself too. In his eyes she saw the same feelings jockeying for space inside of her—anger, frustration, and love.
"What is it, Erika? What is the problem?"
When she didn't respond, he continued.
"You know I love God too. I know that God hates divorce. But He also says that a husband is supposed to love his wife in the same way that Christ loved the church."
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I'm not trying to compromise your faith or your integrity. I don't want for either of us to be outside of God's will. But I also don't think our Lord wants to keep you in a relationship that could be dangerous for you and for Aaron."
Erika hunched her shoulders and leaned forward too. "That's part of it, Derrick. How do I know that he's still abusive? Elliott says he's changed. Don't I have an obligation, out of respect for God, to give Elliott a chance to prove it?"
"If that's what you believe, then why haven't you gone back home?"
Erika sat up straight. The question caught her off guard. Why hadn't she?
"When we're in tune with God, He gives us discernment, Erika. You know that inner voice that we want to call intuition? That's God nudging us to do one thing or another.
Something has kept you from reconciling with Elliott. You need to figure out what that something is, and I don't want it to be just because of me. You need to make the decision that's going to be best for you and for Aaron, and if you feel like that's staying married to Elliott, then so be it. But I refuse to continue being strung along. I love you, but I love myself too. I deserve better."
Erika's eyes widened. "What are you saying? Didn't you just tell me you care about me?"
Derrick cupped her hands in his. Erika was stunned to see tears pool in his eyes.
"I don't just care about you, Erika. I love you. I've known that for a long time."
He said it so softly she thought she hadn't heard correctly. But he wasn't finished.
"You're used to a love that hurts; I'm not. If we will ever be together—and that is just a hypothetical if at this point—you've got to learn a better way. Love isn't supposed to hurt. It's supposed to build both people up. Where you and I are now . . . it's tearing both of us down.
"You concentrate on Erika, on loving yourself and figuring out what you want. I am always here for you and for Aaron, even if you decide to stay with Elliott. But for now, we are just friends, and when we're in the office, colleagues. I'm praying for you, Erika."
Erika pulled her hands from Derrick's grasp and wrapped her arms around herself. She thought she might lose it, right then and there.
When Derrick laid fifteen dollars on the table and picked up his briefcase, she realized she already had lost him.