Elizabeth blinked a few times, stunned. For sure, she’d misheard him. Only she was more sure she hadn’t. “You know you’re not actually allowed to ask me that, right?”
“Yes, and yet I still did,” said Pritchard. “Imagine that.”
Elizabeth had some very definite opinions about dealing with men in the workplace, and not all of what she believed was exactly feminism friendly. Context mattered a great deal. So did intent. But at the end of the day, the great Aretha Franklin said it best. R-e-s-p-e-c-t. The only way a guy ever truly crossed the line with Elizabeth was when it was clear he didn’t respect her.
That wasn’t the case with Pritchard. He didn’t give a damn about your skin color, religion, where you were from, or even what pronoun you used. If you were extremely dedicated and an asset to the team, then he would always have your back.
But this was pushing it, to put it mildly. He really just asked if I’m sleeping with anyone?
Elizabeth figured her best response after his doubling down on the question was a hard stare. She crossed her arms in return, saying nothing.
“Okay, let me rephrase that a bit,” Pritchard said finally. “Are you currently dating someone?”
“No, I’m not dating anyone at the moment.” Not that that was really any of his business, either. “Why do you ask?”
“Sullivan,” he said.
“What about him?”
“You know what.”
“I’m not following,” she said.
“Of course you are.”
He was right. She was following. Elizabeth knew exactly what Pritchard meant and, as clumsy as it was, why he’d asked her such a personal question. You don’t get to be the chief of the JTTF’s Field Unit without having a sixth sense. Or sex sense, as it were.
“You think Danny and I are dating?”
“No, I don’t,” he said. “But I see the way he looks at you around the office.”
“How’s that?”
“The same way you look at him.”
Elizabeth stared again at Pritchard. She was speechless. Christ, have I really been that obvious?
No, she hadn’t. Pritchard was simply that good at knowing anything and everything happening in his unit. That even included things that actually weren’t happening yet—but possibly could. That was obviously his concern.
“Are we really having this conversation?” she asked.
“Consider yourself lucky,” he said. “We could be having it with Danny in the room.”
True. That would’ve been worse, although it did beg the question: “Have you also spoken to Danny?” she asked.
“No, and I don’t intend to,” said Pritchard.
“Why not? Not that I want you to. I’m just curious.”
“Because most guys are pigs, but Danny isn’t. Nothing’s going to happen between you and him unless you want it to happen.”
“So you’re telling me to make sure it doesn’t?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Does it make you feel any better to know I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in more than five years?”
“No, it makes me feel sorry for you, Needham,” he said. “Get a life, will you? But just don’t do it with anyone here in the office.” Pritchard leaned forward, resting his thick forearms on his giant desk. “There’s only one thing worse than two of my agents sleeping with each other, and that’s when they stop sleeping with each other. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, nodding. She stood up to leave.
“Where are you going?”
She sat back down, the metal chair beneath her feeling even harder now. “I thought we were done.”
“I wish we were, but I got a call late last night from the mayor. In case you didn’t know, I really hate late-night calls from the mayor,” said Pritchard. “You’re not going to like this one, either.”