❀ KATERINA ❀

I hate crying.

I hate that I can't control it once it starts. My eyes become puffy and my face blotchy.

What's worse is doing it in front of people, specifically, my boss, who I'm certain I'm falling for after working closely with him these past few weeks.

Oh, gosh, I nearly kissed him—powerless against the pull drawing me to him, and those kissable lips of his. And why does he have to smell so good all the time? But his swift rejection was the dose of reality needed in that moment of complete lust and stupidity.

If I had just come clean that first day he came to work, I wouldn't be in such a big mess—blackmailed into being in a relationship with someone that makes my skin crawl in order to save my career. Sure, I'd still be drowning in debt, and carless, but at least I would be able to look William in the eye and tell him how I feel.

"Ms. Ramos? Kat?" I jump at the touch of his hand on my arm.

"Tranquila." William's gentle voice telling me to relax calms my racing heart. His eyes are full of worry as they roam over my face. I can only imagine how awful I must look. "You're going to have to give Joe directions where to go from here."

My gaze shifts past him and I recognize my apartment complex's clubhouse. "First building down this way." My voice cracks, and I gesture with my hand to the driver.

I begin gathering my things, trying to move as quickly as possible, hoping my trembling hands are just my imagination. Tears start building in my eyes on their own and I just want to be in bed under the covers.

"Thank you, Joe."

He offers me a warm smile with a tip of his head. "My pleasure, Miss."

Skirting my eyes from the man that sends my heart into a frenzy, I reach for the door handle. "I appreciate the lift, Mr. Cardona."

"I'll walk you up to your apartment—"

"That's not necessary."

"I insist." He pulls my bag out of my hands and climbs out of the car with me scrambling to follow behind him. "Which door?"

"Mr. Cardona, I can manage really."

"I know. But what kind of a gentleman would I be not walking you to your door?"

Mentally exhausted and emotionally drained, I give up trying to stop him. "Second floor, number twenty-five."

His long strides require me to quicken my pace, but as my door comes into view, the taped, legal pay or vacate notice—that's becoming a new normal each month— for the world to see, gives me renewed strength and energy. I rush past him, tearing the paper off my door, crumbling it in my hands.

"This is me." I pant, but force myself to straighten, and snatch my bag from his hand. I dig through it for my keys, expecting him to start his descent down the stairs. But I quickly realize he's waiting for me to open the door.

I'm hoping my jangling keys will signal him to leave, but he doesn't move. "Um, thank you again. See you in the morning."

"You're welcome. I just want to make sure you get in alright." His hands slide into his pockets waiting.

Forcing a smile, I turn toward my door and attempt to unlock my door, but my hands are shaking so much, I drop my keys. "Maldita sea." Cursing under my breath, my vision blurs with the damn tears building again. I bend down to pick them up. William's hand comes over mine and he firmly pulls my keys from my grip.

"Please, let me." His other hand wraps around my arm, lifting me up as he straightens. He keeps his arm around my waist, anchoring me to his strong frame, probably afraid I'll either faint or decide to jump. He unlocks the door, pushing it open and guides me inside.

The warm air hits me right away and I groan realizing things are just getting worse by the minute. I wipe my eyes, pulling away from him and flip the switch that turns on my lamps in the living room. But nothing happens.

"Todo bien?"

No, everything is not okay. But I can't tell him that. "Uh, yeah. Management sent notices letting us know there's been a power outage or something. Hang on." Feeling my way through the darkness, I make it to my kitchen and go through a drawer finding a box of matches.

I blindly head toward the living room. "Ow." I rub my throbbing shin after running into the coffee table.

William uses the flashlight on his phone to find me. "Are you okay?"

Muttering, I'm fine, I strike a match and light the scented candles sitting on the coffee table as well as the ones on my bookcases and other accent furniture. The room begins to glow in a muted orange.

He closes the door behind him and the average sized space now feels tiny with his presence. His gaze roams around, taking in my simple and sparse furniture decorations. I may not have a lot, but I am proud of my space and enjoy keeping it clean and organized.

"I would offer you something to drink, but I only have bottled water."

"I like water." He heads to the fridge and my face heats up as he's noticing what little I have inside it. I'm not much of a cook, but my crazy work schedule hasn't given me a chance to go grocery shopping.

"How long have you been living here?" He twists the cap off the bottle and chugs the water.

"Almost two years. I lived with my sister, Janelle and her boyfriend for a while, trying to save some money, but you know three's a crowd and I wanted my own space."

"Before your sister's place?"

I lower myself onto my coach, kicking off my heels. "We lived with our Tia." My head falls onto the back of the couch. "Our parents died in a car accident, driving back from Lake Tahoe for their eighteenth wedding anniversary. Janelle was fifteen, I was eight."

Closing my eyes, but the tears don't stop. "Our Tia wasn't exactly thrilled that her childrenless life got turned upside down when she inherited us. She very much believes children should be seen not heard. But...she did the best she could." While she was cold and strict, she took us in so I choose to be grateful.

When the couch dips next to me, I open my eyes, lifting my head. William is watching me. "I noticed from your resume, you have associate degrees in English and Graphic Design with a Bachelors in Communications, but you're working as an intern."

I glance down at my hands. "I'm still not sure I made the right decision with what I picked. It took me a while to finally decide and then when I did my Tia said there is no future for dreamers like me." The stifling air in the apartment only enhances the warmth on my face from embarrassment. "I took a break to save money. That's why it took me longer to graduate. And your company was one of the few hiring with little to no experience with the possibility of growth."

"Is that your dream, to be a writer?"

I turn my head to face him and smile. "One of them." Exhaling, I stare up at the ceiling. "I'd really like to help people."

"In what capacity?"

"In whatever way I can. But you can't really fill other's cups when yours is empty." A loud knock raps on the door, and I sit up with a start.

"It's okay, it's just food or the portable air conditioners." Williams stands, walking to the door.

I follow behind him. "Food? Air conditioners? What?"

"I texted Joe to order something for us and also asked to purchase a couple of portable air conditioners. No AC in this heat is a heat stroke waiting to happen. I figured it was this or you coming home with me."

Joe sends a smile my way when William opens the door, standing next to a couple of large boxes, while I'm still processing what he said and did.

"They're ready to go sir."

"Perfect, gracias, Joe."

The delivery guy moves to let Joe by and then greets William, handing him a bag. William pulls out his wallet and gives him cash. Judging by the wide eyes of the delivery guy, it's safe to say he was not expecting a generous tip.

"What are we eating?"

He holds up the bag. "Cheeseburgers."

❀ ❀ ❀ 

The emotional and mental toll of the day left me with a ravenous appetite and I should probably be embarrassed by how quickly I inhaled my food, but I'm not.

Unlike his demeanor at work, William is great company. But I've known that from our chats at the club. We spent time talking and even laughing about different topics. He opened up about growing up in New York. His parents are divorced, but remain amicable. He is the youngest in his family with an older sister and an older brother, all involved in the family businesses which I learned includes real estate and hotels.

"Well." I exhale, sitting back in my chair. "I'm stuffed, thank you." Lifting my eyes, my smile falters, seeing the serious look on his face.

"I want the truth, Katerina."

My mouth goes dry. "What?" I choke out, reaching for my drink, only to slurp the last drops at the bottom of the cup. Empty. Just like my bank account. He hands me his drink and I take it, shamelessly finishing it off.

"The exterior lights to the building are on. It's obvious there's no power outage. How far behind are you on your power bill and car payments."

"I-it's no big deal. I'll have it cleared up by tomorro—"

"How much, Katerina?" From the severe expression he has and his tone of voice, it's obvious his patience is hanging by a thread.

"Two months on both." I steel myself to face him. "I know what you must think."

"What do I think?"

"That I'm young, careless, irresponsible, and bad with money, but it's not like that." Not wanting to be under his intense judgemental scrutiny, I gather the wrappers and empty cup, and throw them into the garbage.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor when he stands, resonates loudly. He cleans up his food wrappers and walks to the garbage, throwing them away. "I think you're a smart woman, who's in a tough spot." When I hear the rustling of his clothes, I face him again. My eyes widen, watching him lift his money clip.

"What are you doing?"

He flicks the bills quickly, counting them out. "This should cover your utilities and rent. Yes, I saw the notice before you took it down. And a little extra to help you get ahead." He holds out the cash toward me. "I'll get your car situation squared away tomorrow."

A chaotic storm of emotions erupts inside of me. Surprise, appreciation, anger, shame, and disgust. Each new wave takes my breath away, but I grit my teeth and march toward him.

"I'm not a charity case. And this is completely inappropriate."

"I never said you were a charity case. I just want to help."

"You're my boss."

Clarity shines through his eyes as he keeps staring at me, almost like he forgot where he was, who he is and who I am to him. He lowers his gaze and tucks the money back in his clip. I can't imagine what that feels like—walking around with over a thousand dollars in my pocket.

"Perdoname, I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable," he says in a quiet voice. "I'm sure this is something Malcolm will help you with anyway."

A snort escapes from me. "Malcolm? Why would he help me?"

William's intense gaze snaps to me, his eyebrows knitting together. "He's your boyfriend."

Oh, right. Shit. I shift on my feet and fold my arms. "I'm not going to burden him or anyone with my problems. I'll figure it out on my own."

He takes a deep breath in, exhaling through his nose, observing me and then he nods. "I admire your resilience, but there's no shame in asking for help when it's needed."

"I'll keep that in mind." A moment of silence passes, but I clear my throat. "Thanks again for the ride and food. Oh and also the air conditioners. I really appreciate it. I'll pay you back."

"You're welcome and don't worry about it."

Walking toward my door, I open the door, and turn to him but he's leaning forward looking at a few pictures on the wall.

"Is this you and your parents?" He's pointing at a picture of me when I was eight, posing with my parents, dressed in a jazz outfit for one of my dance competitions.

"Yeah. I started dancing when I was three, but stopped after...after my parents died. My Tia wanted us to focus on school. 'There's no time for nonsense' she'd always say." I force a laugh, realizing I'm rambling.

"You look a lot like your mom, except your hair is darker," he says, still observing the old photo.

"Thank you, I get my darker features from my dad. She was German, my dad was Mexican." Getting overwhelmed with sadness and missing my parents, I rush my words. "Anyway, goodnight, Mr. Cardona." Before I realize what I'm doing, my arms are already wrapped around his neck. My eyes widen. Ay, Dios. But when I start to pull away his arms come around me, holding me in place.

"What are you doing to me, Katerina?" His voice is quiet. He shifts his head, and inhales deeply before I feel his warm breath on my neck as he exhales. "I nearly kissed you today," he says next to my ear.

"Y-you did?"

I sense him nod against my neck and shoulder, his arms still around me. "I really wanted to. I still do. I can't remember the last time I wanted something so much."

"You do?" I whisper, my eyes becoming watery. Is this real?

"But...you're someone else's." He tightens his arms for a moment and then he releases me. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Ramos," he says, stiffly and too formally. He steps through the door, closing it behind him. Leaning my head against it, I fail at keeping a fresh set of tears from falling.