Yes, he knew me well enough to know I had been struggling to find my way. But, rather than talk to me, he’d asked for advice from a virtual stranger.

Did we really know each other at all?

“Cara?” Roman said.

I realized I’d gone quiet for far too long.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly. “And, no, I like my new clothes.”

He eyed me carefully before offering the seat across from him. It was a place I was beginning to grow rather fond of. It was also a place where I found myself sweating nervously, thinking impure thoughts about the man in front of me, while trying to keep my fingers from fidgeting with anything in sight. But I somehow liked it all the same.

There was something about this man, this boss of mine, that intrigued me. What was hidden behind all those grumpy layers of protection he’d built to keep everyone in the world at a distance? And just how would someone break through?

“How’s your salad?” Roman asked, watching me from across the desk. He popped another piece of bread into his mouth.

“Good. Great actually. I’d never really tried fruit on a salad until I moved here. I mean, we have fruit salad back home, but that’s an entirely different thing than this,” I said, motioning to the fresh pieces of ripe strawberries that dotted my plate.

“And where exactly is that?” he asked. He’d finished his sandwich and leaned back in his chair, holding his glass bottle with both hands.

“Nebraska. I’d tell you the town, but you wouldn’t recognize it. It’s about as big as a thumbtack. It’s one of those towns where everyone knows everyone else, no one locks their doors, and children run around without supervision because nothing bad ever happens.”

“That explains a lot,” he simply replied.

“What does that mean?” I asked, setting my fork down to catch his mischievous gaze.

“It just means, there’s a lot of good in you. Too much sometimes. Hearing you talk about where you grew up, the Leave It to Beaver lifestyle—it all makes sense.”

“Does it bother you?” I asked, sitting back in the chair.

“No,” he instantly replied. “I find it oddly refreshing. But I worry that you’ll lose it, living here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I have a sister-in-law. Very much like you in fact,” he said, “Good, kind, but very—”

“Naive?” I said, guessing his next word.