Testing the Waters II

“Sure,” she nods. “It’s fine.”

“Jenna,” I murmur as I brace my hands on either side of my chair, my fingers stretching over the edge of the armrests. It doesn’t feel the same. Even when she said her name was Elena, it tasted odd on my tongue, like something was missing.

Now, Maya—that fits.

Warm, blue eyes, Maya, with a tiny dent in her chin whenever she tilted it in defiance. Long, wavy hair, like silk threads between my fingers, and that soft—my eyes drop to her mouth, to the tiny space between her lips, and I inhale sharply, struck with a jolt in my chest that feels nothing like the measured, carefully-chosen words passing between us.

I clear my throat as my fingernails dig into the leather, biting through the surface. “I think I’ll stick with Miss Carr,” I say. “I wouldn’t want your colleague to think I’m crossing any professional lines.” I glance at the door, then slowly back at her.

That goddamn band around her ponytail.

Her hair is shorter than it was five years ago, but