It wasn't so much a suggestion as a summons. And I got a pit in my stomach as I thought about facing her across the expanse of her desk. Beatrice had been so very, very far from my mind in that cabin in the mountains. Her request for no fraternization had as well, something I'd broken. A few times. But there was really no point in counting how many times, honestly.
Ignoring the ramifications of what would happen if she found out, I'd already begun to formulate the opinion that all this forced proximity with Noah didn't help either of us. Especially not now. I was a glorified errand girl, hanging around the filming crew the way I'd been doing. Maybe that was the sharp, unpleasant edge to Beatrice's promotion in the first place.
Putting lipstick on a pig, so to speak.
She acted like she was doing me a favor, but in reality, the job I'd done before was more challenging, kept me busier, and on the whole, could generate just as much revenue for Washington if I did that job well.
Glancing at the filming schedule tacked to the pinboard behind my desk, I knew that Marty and Rick weren't around today. Probably at their own offices going through everything they'd caught over the weekend. As I tapped the side of my pen on the desk, I thought about the past few weeks. I thought about Marty. And Rick. The pen slowed; my heart rate sped up. And I thought about Noah.
Facing him.
Being around him.
Trying to pretend nothing had happened and watching him do the same.
It was a recipe for disaster, and I couldn't even care what it said about me that I didn't think I could shove it down and do my job. Nothing was sexy about us trying to sneak around now that we were back to reality in Seattle.
Even if we’d agreed to try, I saw nothing fun or exciting about trying to hide a relationship with him. We were both too pragmatic for that.
I pulled a pad of paper out of the top drawer of my desk and started scribbling things down. Flipping back and forth between that and my computer whenever something came up, I felt ready to meet with Beatrice by the time I'd scarfed some cold leftovers for lunch. Being away from Noah meant my head was clearer, and that was hard to admit.
Something about him scrambled my brain waves, and if I was honest with myself, that had always been true. My breaking-and-entering career kicked off at the ripe age of sixteen because of the Noah effect. And look where that had gotten all of us.
Now I stood to lose something even more precious if I wasn't careful. I stood to lose my heart. Two nights in South Dakota was one thing, but seeing him in front of me, day in and day out, was another.
I pushed back from my desk and shoved my feet back into my flats before making my way down the hallway to Beatrice's office.
Out of respect, I rapped my knuckles quietly against the door even though it was propped open, and I could see her typing away at her computer.
She turned in her chair and gave me a small smile. "Come in, Molly. Perfect timing."
"Yeah?"
Her face smoothed out into that placid, pleasant expression she favored even though I could sense her studying me carefully. Since I got home, no one had looked at me like that, and I fought not to fidget as I took a seat across from her. "I've been trying to get a hold of Rick, and he seems to be ... how do I phrase this ... ghosting me?"
My eyebrows bent down. "Really? That doesn't seem like him."
"It doesn't. Yet I've asked for more raw footage, updates on how it's going, and he's ignored every request for the past two weeks. Either he evades me with a bland update, or he outright avoids answering my questions." She steepled her fingers in front of her. "Do you have any idea why?"
"No," I answered honestly. "Filming has been going really smoothly. They got a lot of great stuff over the weekend, so I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to show you."
When she didn't reply right away, I got the distinct feeling she was weighing the sincerity of my answer. But no matter what conversations I might have had with Rick, I was being truthful with Beatrice about this. I couldn't fathom why he wouldn't want to show her any of the footage they'd recorded.
"Okay," she said. "I'm glad to hear you say that. It makes me feel better since I know you're present whenever they're filming."
"Good." I took a deep breath. "But that's something I wanted to talk to you about, actually."
She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in question.
"I've been there every day since they started. Very little has been filmed without me being there."
"I know. That's part of your job."
"I'm questioning how necessary that is, though," I said evenly.
Her face didn't move. Not a single muscle. Yet I felt a stunned reaction from her like a wave pulsing through the room. "Why's that?"
I shifted in my seat before answering. "Rick isn't trying to undermine us. He's not trying to manufacture drama or instigate something false. He clearly cares about Noah and wants to capture the raw truth of what this is like for him. And Noah …" My voice wavered on his name, just the slightest hitch, but I covered it up by clearing my throat. "Noah is so much more comfortable in front of the camera than he was when this started. They don't need me there, Beatrice. I feel like I'm wasting my time, and Washington's money, by hanging in the background to make sure everything is going smoothly. And I"—I blew out a slow breath—"I wonder if that's something you knew would happen when you gave me this opportunity. That I'd feel unnecessary. Like I could be doing more or make a bigger impact elsewhere."
Her eyes narrowed. "Do you think I'd trick you?"
I licked my lips. "Not trick, no. But you were very honest with me about why you were doing this. You felt like I hadn't earned my job, that my last name meant I didn't work as hard as someone else might were they in my position. And even though I know that's not true, not fully, you flat out told me to prove it to you. But continuing with this setup, I'll never be able to do that."
"Why's that?"
Because I'll fall in love with Noah if you keep shoving him under my nose and will inevitably make more horrible decisions when I know I can't stay away from him. I blinked the thought back.
"Because this role is a waste of my talent. I can do both things, but I don't need to be with them every day they film. I can meet with Rick and Marty once a week to make sure they have all the access they need within the organization, and if Noah isn't working with them as he should, then I can step in as necessary. I've already proven to be able to communicate with him effectively."
The words were coming out of my mouth when I was slammed with a vivid memory of how effective our communication was for those two nights.
Yes, just like that. You feel so good, Molly. So, so good.
My face felt warm, and I kept my gaze steady on my boss.
Beatrice leaned back in her chair and set her hands in her lap. "You're right," she said after a long moment of silent regard. I didn't say anything, but inside, I was deflating with heady relief. "A good employee will do what's required. A great employee will find ways they can benefit the company they work for beyond what's asked of them. And you admitting this is a sign that you're a great employee."
"Thank you," I answered meaningfully.
Already, I felt the burden lift off my shoulders, the one I'd been trying to figure out how to carry ever since Noah walked out of my bedroom in the early morning hours.
"Which is why I hate that my mind immediately tries to connect your request with the timing of Rick ignoring me."
My brain jerked to a halt as I processed her words.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"I'm going to ask you this once, Molly. Did something inappropriate happen that Rick doesn't want me to know about? That you don't want me to know about, which is why you don't want to be present for the filming anymore? If someone tried something or has made you feel uncomfortable, then I want to know about it."
I shook my head, stunned at the turn of the conversation. "I promise you, I'm not asking because anyone is making me feel uncomfortable."
"So the contract hasn’t been violated?"