Page 69 of Let's Call a Truce
I shook my head as I put my dress back on, but I pulled him in for one last, quick kiss before slipping out of the room.
“I’ll see you in an hour,” he called down the hallway after me, and I waved him off while laughing.
Quinn met us at eight in the morning to show us to our interview room, helping us reorganize it the way we wanted before our first interview. She promised to come back to take us to lunch, this time at an actual restaurant. I had organized daily packets with the student’s résumés and copies of our interview questions where we could take notes.
The day passed in a blur. Ben asked the more technical questions, while I handled the standard interview ones, us instinctively playing off each other. I was thankful for my obsessive note-taking habit so I could remember each of the students when we met them all again tomorrow to make the offers and give interview feedback.
By the time we finished the interviews at six, we were both exhausted and overwhelmed. We would have to pick six from over twenty students. I knew my standouts, but with Ben’s greater understanding of the work, I planned to follow his lead. As we gathered our papers and laptops, my phone pinged.
Mom:Are you two done with work for the day? The girls thought it would be nice to have a video call during dinner and pretend like you were here.
I smiled and turned my screen to Ben, whose face lit up at the suggestion. He told me about a popular burger place nearby that would be relaxed enough for us to set up a laptop there.
Juliana:Give us 15 minutes. We’re packing up and are going to head to a restaurant. We’ll call you all from there. Tell the girls we can’t wait!
We explained to the hostess at the front desk what we were hoping to do. She smiled widely, especially at Ben, I noticed with an eye roll, and led us to a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant. He slid in beside me so the girls could see both of us, fiddling with his computer on the table to make sure we were both visible before hittingCALL.
Our table burst with noise as my mom accepted the call. We both laughed and dove for the volume to show a bit of respect for the other patrons. A few people glanced over at us, but no one seemed too bothered.
“Hi, girlies. How are you doing?” Ben greeted them, and we shared a small smile.
Clara and Sophie jumped into stories, talking over each other and scowling at the other. I laughed and cut them off. “Since you are both so rude, I’m going to make you wait and let Paris go first.”
Paris’s shy smile tugged at my heart. “I’m good, Miss Juliana. I miss you, Daddy, but it’s been really fun with Miss Sue and Mr. Brian.”
Our waitress walked up to our table before doing a double take at the computer. I glanced at her name tag.
“I’m so sorry, Joan. Our kids are at home in Orlando while we’re here for work and wanted to have dinner with us. Do you mind?”
She smiled and nodded. “I have grandkids the same age. Not a problem at all.”
“Everyone, say hi to Joan,” Ben said, which was met with a chorus of hellos. She beamed at them before taking our order and heading off.
The dinner passed too quickly. All three girls talked about their school week. Paris spoke up more with some encouragement from Ben. I worried it might be hard for her to compete with my loud and domineering girls, but I realized she was happy to observe, hopping in with hilarious comments when least expected. The meal felt natural and comfortable, and at one point Ben took my hand underneath the table, giving it a squeeze that saidSee what we could be?
We wished the girls good night as we finished up. We gestured to Joan for the check and waited to close out.
“You two have your hands full at home, don’t you? I can’t imagine three so close in age, but it’s nice to see you two still smitten after all of that.” She winked and walked off before we could correct her.
Ben didn’t budge as I slid down the bench, gathering me in his arms instead. “For the record, I am smitten.”
He kissed me, then tugged me out of the booth. We took our time heading back, winding through the streets of Boston. He pointed out important spots from his childhood, the private school he attended near his house, the bench where he kissed a girl for the first time, the bookshop where he bought items onhis school reading list, and it was like walking back into his past and meeting young Ben.
His arm was slung over my shoulder, and I snuggled in as we walked. He smiled down at me, his eyes saying things he knew I wasn’t ready to hear yet.
“It’s because of the cold. Don’t go getting a big head.”
We used my hotel room this time, me explaining that one night without my face wash and toothbrush was more than enough. He hopped into his room to grab his toiletries and clothes for tomorrow, both of us knowing he wouldn’t be going back to his room.
Two hours and several rounds later, we were both lying in my bed, me positioned between his legs, my back to his chest. We needed to talk, but what I needed to say could ruin everything. The words rushed out of me, barely coherent, but he heard them all the same.
“I don’t want to tell anyone about this when we get home.” His body tensed behind me.
“I thought you said you were sure.”
His frustration laced every clipped word and clenched every muscle. I turned to look at him and found him studying something across the room.
“Ben, please look at me.” He took another beat before turning back to me, his dark eyes shuttered. “I am sure. I want to do this. But two months ago, we were at each other’s throats.” He huffed a laugh at that. “It’s complicated. I’m about to get promoted at work, and even though there aren’t any company rules against it, I don’t want anyone thinking my relationship with the VP of architecture gave me a leg up on the job.
