Love Of Lust

Chapter Fourteen

Becky's POV
I sat quietly, irrationally worried that the interviewer could hear my heartbeat.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and then, he finally spoke.

"Can you tell me about your first meeting?" I cleared my throat.

"Well, uh, he runs the company that I work at. But he doesn't take a very...hands-on role in dealing with his staff. So I saw him around for years before I ever really 'met' him." I inhaled, slowly. Breathing. Staying present with myself. "Then, about three months ago, he sent his lawyer to get me. He told me that Riad wanted to meet with me."

"And what happened then?"

"Riad wanted to talk about a special project. A logo redesign for the company. Complete image overhaul. He wanted to keep it a secret, which was why he was talking to me about it directly. Or so he said."

"It wasn't true?" I smiled.

"He made it all up, just to get a chance to talk to me. I guess he'd been, sort of...interested in me for a while."

"Did he make you aware of his interest in the first meeting?" I swallowed. We hadn't gone over this.

"Not...not in so many words." The interviewer looked at me, clicking his pen. "I...suspected," I said, at last. "From the way he looked at me. But I thought I must be imagining things."

"So." He looked down at his papers. "Where were you living, at this time?"

I recited the address to my old apartment.

"At your first meeting, did you exchange contact information? Did you make arrangements to see each other again?" I hesitated.

"I...I think so," I said. "But I can't really remember exactly how many times we met before he gave me his number." So far, I was following Riad's guidelines as closely as I could. I figured vague was best, but too vague and I risked looking suspicious. I had to walk a delicate balance. And breathe.

"Can you tell me about when you first realized you had something in common?" 

I laughed a little, looking into the distance, like I was remembering something that made me happy to think about.

"I don't remember how it came up, exactly, but...Wes Anderson movies. Turns out we both really loved them. We started talking about them every time we got together, just chit-chatting...less and less about the 'project,' and more and more about personal things. Finally, he told me that they were putting the project on hold, but...he still wanted to see me." 

"And you felt the same way." 

"Yes." 

A part of me was actually starting to believe my own story, and it made my heart ache.

 "So would you say that's when your relationship turned romantic?" I nodded. 

"Where did you go on your first date?"

"We ate lunch together at the office quite a bit," I said. "But...officially? The Inn at Grenarnia," I said. "It was very nice." 

"Do you remember the date?" 

"I think it was...around the end of July?"

 "Were you concerned about your co-workers finding out about your relationship?"

 "We were, for a while. That's why we kept it quiet. But eventually we decided it was best to be open about things, and that I would quit my job as soon as it was feasible to avoid conflicts of interest." 

"How soon into the relationship did he inform you about his immigration difficulties?" 

"Before he proposed," I said. "He wanted to make sure I knew that it wasn't about that."