To refuse would be inviting problems

Refusing a cup of coffee shouldn’t have been a problem, but after the last twenty minutes you weren’t keen to find out whether she’d take offence at having her kindness thrown back at her. You still had to work here. “Fine,” you said, settling back with the gloves in your lap. “Coffee, thanks.”

Her smile lingered as she reached for the phone. After pressing a button, she waited with the receiver against her ear, her eyes returning to yours before anyone answered.

“Emma, could you bring us two coffees, please? And some water. Thank you.” Setting the receiver down, she drew the report towards her and picked up her pen. “You were right about the signs. You provided a safe route around the work, and he chose to ignore it. I should have acknowledged that before asking you to go through this again.”

You waited for the qualification, but she only added a note beneath your statement. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“Yes, it is.” Her pen paused, and she looked up at you. “I’m sorry.”

That was considerably easier to accept without another question attached to it. You nodded, letting the matter rest before either of you found a reason to reopen it. If she could finish the paperwork while you drank the coffee, there was still a chance of getting back outside before the afternoon bell.

A knock interrupted the scratching of her pen. At her invitation, a dark-haired woman stepped inside with a notepad tucked against her blouse. Mid thirties, perhaps, with the distracted expression of someone trying to remember what she’d been doing before the phone rang.

“Sorry, I should have asked how your guest takes his.” Turning towards you, she met your eyes and hesitated briefly before continuing. “Milk? Sugar?”

You told her, and she repeated the answer, her attention staying on your face until you nodded. Only then did she glance towards the principal.

“Your three o’clock is still coming, by the way.” Emma checked the clock beside the bookcase, drawing your attention to it as well.

“Thank you, Emma. We have a few minutes.” Without checking the time herself, Melissa returned to the note beneath your statement, her pen moving through the last line.

“I’ll bring these straight through.” A small smile accompanied another look in your direction before Emma stepped out and closed the door.

Three o’clock sounded promising. With any luck, the next person would be waiting outside by the time you finished your drink, saving you the trouble of explaining that you’d rather spend the afternoon cleaning concrete. Across the desk, Melissa read through what she’d written, signed beneath it and placed the report to one side.

“That should be everything we need.” Melissa placed the signed report to one side, and you gathered your gloves, shifting forward in the chair.

“Good. I’ve still got equipment outside.”

“Is it secure?” The question stopped you before you could stand. When you confirmed that the water was off and the barriers were still up, she nodded towards the empty space she’d cleared for the drinks. “Then stay for the coffee. I’ll account for the time if your supervisor asks.”

There went the objection you’d been about to make. You settled back, laying the gloves across your knee. The coffee was already on its way, and a few minutes wouldn’t make much difference now.

Across the desk, her shoulders eased. “Thank you. I’d rather you didn’t leave with this afternoon’s lecture as your only impression of me.”

“It was fairly thorough.” You glanced up from the gloves, hoping that hadn’t come out quite as dryly as it sounded.

A brief laugh reassured you. “Yes, I’m beginning to gather that. You could have said something.”

“I thought I did. Somewhere around the third mention of the signs.”

“You did.” Still smiling, she moved the finished report aside. “I suppose I could have listened.”

That was fair enough. With nothing to gain by pressing the point, you let your hand rest on the gloves and returned a little of the smile. “Occupational hazard. Most people don’t listen until they’ve walked onto the wet floor.”

“I’ll try to be quicker next time.” Her attention stayed with you for a moment before she added, “And please, call me Melissa.”

Your eyes went briefly to the nameplate. “All right. Melissa.”

The warmth of her response made you feel you’d finally said something she’d wanted to hear. While she cleared a little more space for the drinks, you eased back into the chair. Perhaps the lecture had simply got away from her, and this was her way of making amends. You could give her the length of a coffee to do it.

A second knock spared you from finding something conversational to say. Emma returned with two mugs and a glass of water on a tray, and you shifted your knees to let her reach the desk. After setting down the principal’s coffee, she placed yours within reach and turned the handle towards your hand. “Careful, it’s hot. I think that’s how you wanted it.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the mug, meeting her eyes while her fingers remained beside it. The brief pause made you hesitate as well, until she withdrew her hand and offered more milk. “It’ll be fine,” you assured her, though she continued watching with enough interest to make you conscious of your damp sleeves and gritty trousers. Perhaps wiping your forehead earlier had left a mark. “Have I got something on my face?”

“No, you’re fine.” Her smile widened before she remembered the water and lifted it from the tray. As she set the glass beside your coffee, Melissa asked her to let your supervisor know where you were, prompting an immediate nod. “Of course. Should I ask whether someone can bring the equipment in?”

“I’ll do it. It needs putting away properly, or I’ll spend half of tomorrow sorting it out.” You adjusted your grip on the hot handle, prepared to explain why getting someone else involved would create more work, but the principal accepted the answer.

“Then we’ll leave that to you. I can make sure nobody borrows it before you get back.” That earned a grateful “That would help” from you, and her pleased response made it easier to return the smile before trying the coffee.

Footsteps moved away from your chair while Melissa asked what remained to be done outside. You kept your attention on the desk, grateful for a subject you could discuss without wondering whether you were being rude. Finishing the concrete wouldn’t take long; packing everything away before the students came out would be the awkward part.

“I’ll leave you to judge the timing,” she said when you finished. “You’ve had quite enough advice from me today.”

There was no arguing with that, although agreeing too enthusiastically seemed unnecessary now that she’d stopped providing it. Another sip proved the coffee still too hot to hurry. While you waited, a question about the music building led into the state of the rehearsal rooms, and you found yourself explaining why cleaning them took longer on some afternoons than others. “They’ve got bins. Apparently carrying an empty bottle another six feet interferes with the creative process.”

A laugh interrupted her attempt to drink. Setting the mug down, she shook her head. “I’ll remember that when the department asks for something.”

“Leave my name out of it.” You meant that seriously enough, but the warning only prolonged her amusement.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to compromise my source.” The reply came easily, without the measured delivery she’d used during the report. “Though I suspect you could tell me rather more about what happens here than I hear in meetings.”

“You probably wouldn’t enjoy most of it.” You took another cautious sip, expecting that to settle the question, only for her to remark that she was enjoying hearing you tell it. Across the desk, she resumed her drink while you considered whether there was anything useful to say to that. Presumably she meant it was good to hear from someone who worked around the campus. No reason to make an ordinary remark uncomfortable.

By the time the coffee had cooled enough to drink properly, you’d stopped checking the clock after every question. The report stayed where she’d left it as the conversation moved from the rooms you cleaned to the hours you usually worked.

“Most afternoons, then?” Drawing her chair closer, she listened while you explained that the shift stayed much the same even when the work changed. “That explains why we haven’t spoken much. I’m usually occupied in here.”

“I get around. Depends what needs doing.” You rested the mug against your knee, beginning to suspect this was leading to another job when she asked whether you usually came through reception.

“Sometimes,” you told her. “Is there something you need checked?”

“No. I’d like to see you.” Her answer was straightforward enough that you nearly nodded before considering it. With no further explanation forthcoming, you reminded her that you were usually somewhere on the grounds, which brought a trace of amusement back to her face. “Yes, but that leaves rather a lot of places to look. I’ll have to catch you before you start.”

You retreated into another sip. Perhaps she was simply more sociable than you’d expected once the paperwork was out of the way, although it seemed an odd amount of effort to spend on an employee she’d barely spoken to before today. When she asked what time you finished, you answered with the increasing suspicion that the conversation had acquired a purpose you were failing to follow.

“I should be done by then.” Her attention went briefly to the appointment book beside the phone. “Come back here before you leave.”

“For the report?” You lowered the mug, looking towards the folder she’d already set aside.

“That’s finished. I thought we could leave together.” Her hand rested on the cover while she considered you. “There’s somewhere nearby we could have dinner, unless you’d rather go home first and change.”

For several seconds, you waited for some indication that she understood what she’d just proposed. Nothing in her expression suggested an invitation she feared you might decline. Instead, her attention settled on your damp clothes with mild concern, as though the only difficulty was deciding which order to do things in.

“I hadn’t planned on going out.” The objection sounded inadequate even to you, but she accepted it readily enough.

“Then we can have something at home. You’ve had a long day, and I’d be perfectly happy with a quiet evening.” Having apparently resolved that, she reached for her coffee, leaving you trying to work out whose home she meant. The fact that she hadn’t thought to specify was becoming more troubling than the offer itself.

Before you could ask, a voice spoke from behind your shoulder. “I’d rather you let me drive you back. You shouldn’t have to go out again once you’ve changed.”

Turning in the chair, you found Emma near the door with the tray held against her waist. You’d assumed she’d gone to speak to your supervisor. Instead, she’d remained through the discussion of the rehearsal rooms, your shift and whatever this had become. “You’re still here?”

“I was waiting for you.” A little of her earlier shyness returned when your eyes met, but it did nothing to interrupt the explanation. “I thought we could walk out together when you’d finished.”

Across the desk, Melissa checked the clock. “You’ll need to let him get back to work first. He’s already worried about the time.”

“I meant afterwards.” Although the correction was addressed to the principal, Emma kept looking at you. “I don’t mind waiting.”

You set the mug down, taking care to get it fully onto the desk before releasing it. Neither woman seemed embarrassed by the exchange. The principal had accepted that her secretary intended to wait for you, and the secretary was discussing an evening that, as far as you knew, you’d planned to spend alone.

“I haven’t agreed to any of this.” Looking from one to the other, you waited for that to register, but Melissa only leaned forward with the patient attention she’d been giving you for the last several minutes.

“Then tell me what you’d prefer. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I’d still like a little time with you,” Emma added, shifting the tray beneath one arm. “Even if it’s only the drive.”

The destination wasn’t the part you were questioning. Somehow, you needed to explain that without giving them another detail to accommodate, because both were waiting as though these were ordinary arrangements between people who already belonged in each other’s lives.