The alarm in Daniel’s head blared again, cutting across his growing comfort in the conversation. He hit the metaphorical snooze button. This was manageable.

“I suggest your friend is not aware of how people see her.”

Monique’s cheeks flushed as she smoothed her skirt. The siren blared.

“Do you think so? She’s at a crossroads in life, if you’ll pardon the pun.” A light laugh fluttered from her lips, and she recrossed her long legs.

Daniel’s smile eased across his face before his conscience elbowed him to wake up. He had to stop. He was due home. He was due anywhere except here.

“What do you suggest my friend do to get the attention of the right man?”

The internal struggle in Daniel roared to life. The flirting was enticing—enchanting even—but he couldn’t act on it. He was married, and Monique was an employee. “Well, for your friend—and let’s be clear here that my advice is for ‘your friend’—I suggest she ensure other people don’t form the basis of her self-esteem.”

Monique nodded, her lips parting. “But how can she find happiness?”

This conversation had to become a formal counseling session, and with Anna, but the part of him that was enjoying the flirtation had one final thing to give. “I would say what I say to most people. You have to be true to yourself.”

He cringed. Those words sounded worse out loud than in his head. “What I meant to say is that if it’s appropriate, then you should be true—”

Monique beamed as her cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

Daniel had lit a touch paper, and he needed to douse it. Quickly. “Is this about a friend, or should I do something to help you out as a boss? My hope here at Crossroads is that we can all be honest with each other, no secrets and all that. If you need to speak to someone, I would suggest Anna—”

Monique smoothed her skirt again and gestured to the family photo on his desk. “You look happy there. How long ago was that?”

The photo of a loving husband and father was more dated with each passing day.

And Monique wasn’t leaving.

With an extravagant stretch, Daniel stood. “I appreciate your offer of help, but I need to finish some important things. Enjoy your evening.”

She rose in a mirror to his actions, and they stood face-to-face, inches apart. Monique’s smile smoldered on her lips as time slowed to a drip. The silence moved from discomfort to promise . . . and back again.

Squeaky guitar and a few nasal lines of an early Beatles hit burst out of his pocket. “Listen . . . do you want to know a secret?”

Daniel scrambled for his phone. Kelly. Relief morphed into dread. The escape route from this conversation would come with a price.