Normally, Monday was the only day of the week that Leticia dreaded. She and Monday would be locked in perpetual battle until the day she died. But now it was Tuesday morning and she was dreading work all the same.

Yesterday had been her first day working with Carter and it had mostly consisted of showing him the ropes. He’d seemed perfectly professional and happy to learn from her, but she didn’t know what the next day would bring. The teasing from her friends last night had helped a little, actually. It had shown her how ridiculous this whole situation was.

Leticia figured she could treat this like a huge deal and freak out, or she could treat it as something amusing and lighthearted and not make it into anything she didn’t want it to be. She decided on the latter.

It seemed that Carter had decided the same thing, because when he met her at their offices this morning, he had a professional but genuine smile on his face.

That was another thing—their offices were right next to each other. As if Leticia wouldn’t have been seeing him enough as it was.

“Morning,” Carter said. His smile widened as Leticia sent him a death glare. “Ah, not a morning person, I see.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Leticia replied, clutching her coffee for dear life. So she wasn’t her best in the morning. Sue her.

Carter laughed. “So, what would you like me to do today?”

Leticia thought about that. “I still have my planner and things from when I had your job. I can give it to you to read, it’ll help you get a good idea of what you’ll be expected to do every day here. If you tell me what you did at your previous job, I can let you take on the responsibilities that are similar, and I can start to coach you through anything that’s different. Like our filing system.” She pulled a face, and Carter laughed again.

“Sure. Want to grab lunch to go over everything?’ He shrugged. “You guys are easing me into this, which is really nice, but I feel kind of bad. I know you’re doing a lot of my work on top of your own right now.”

“I’m almost used to it at this point,” Leticia replied. “I’ve been doing it for a few months now. A few more days isn’t going to kill me. I remember when I first got here, they threw me right in, I felt like I was drowning.”

“All right then, if you’re sure. Noon work for you?”

“Works great.”

Carter opened her office door for her, seeing as her arms were full with her coffee and paperwork. “Thanks.”

Leticia closed the door behind her and set her paperwork down. Dammit. He was as attractive as she’d remembered. And here she’d spent all of last night telling herself that he wasn’t that attractive, that obviously she had exaggerated in her head.

Nope. He looked like goddamn Captain America.

Just her luck.

Her morning flew by quickly. She sent her old notes and paperwork and things over to Carter so that he could get a look at them. She didn’t want to baby him, but she could still vividly remember how much she’d panicked those first few weeks. She’d thought that she was prepared for the job and she had been, but there was a difference between being prepared and actually experiencing it. Responsibility was responsibility, but getting used to the particular quirks and systems and customs of a new place took time. She wanted Carter to experience as much of it in a positive way as possible.

The rest of the morning was spent in handling paperwork, making some calls, and dealing with a couple of agents and representatives for artists. Artists were split about halfway down the middle on common sense. Fifty percent of them were reasonable human beings, like Tom. The other half were exactly how every single stereotype made them sound. Except worse.

The problem, Leticia had found, was that agents and others who represented artists had to work in the best interests of their client. This meant that half the time the agents acted as though their client was God’s gift to both art museums and humanity in general.

It could make them pretty insufferable.

By the time lunch rolled around, Leticia had completely lost track of the time. A soft knock on her door startled her—she was in the middle of drafting an email.

“Hey, you still free?” Carter asked. Leticia tried very hard not to stare at the light blue button-up shirt he was wearing, the top couple of buttons undone. It really wasn’t fair that he was this attractive—or that she knew how he looked with all of those clothes off.

“Yeah, sorry.” She quickly saved the email draft. She’d get back to it later with fresh eyes. “Just trying to find a way to say ‘fuck you’ without actually saying that.”

Carter laughed. “I understand that. We get a lot of donors back at the children’s museum. People are almost always willing to donate to something for kids, y’know? But then they think their money means they can run the place. It’s pretty exhausting.”

Leticia let him hold the door for her as she exited. “There’s this great place just down the street. If you like Thai food?”

“Sure, Thai sounds great.”

She’d gone to this place plenty of times over the years. It was right by the coffee shop, which was how she’d found out about it. Ordering her food and then sprinkling as many chili flakes on it as she could until her lips were tingling was sometimes the best part of her day. It was a real mom and pop place, run by a couple that had emigrated back when they were in their twenties and were now in their sixties but still ran the kitchen. Leticia loved them.

Once they were seated, Leticia continued their conversation. “We get that sometimes with donors as well. If anyone gives you a hard time just redirect them to me. I’ve got no problem being the one that takes the heat.”

“Yeah, you strike me as someone who doesn’t take bullshit,” Carter noted.

Mrs. Bunnag, the woman who owned the place with her husband, came up to them with some menus. “Leticia! Back again. And with this handsome gentleman?”

“Mrs. Bunnag, this is my new coworker, Carter,” Leticia said, introducing them. “I got that promotion and he has my old job now.”

“She’s my boss,” Carter explained, smiling.

“Ah, so you two will be working together a lot, yes?” Mrs. Bunnag said. Leticia nearly groaned and face-planted onto the table. She should have known that she wouldn’t be able to escape some matchmaking. For years now, the Bunnags had been asking her when she was going to find a ‘nice young man.’

“He’s just a coworker,” Leticia told her firmly. “And can I have my usual?”

“Just a coworker, of course,” Mrs. Bunnag replied, in a tone that said she didn’t believe Leticia in the slightest. “And for you?”

“I’ll take the number four?” Carter asked.

Leticia nodded. “Good choice.”

She waited until Mrs. Bunnag went away before leaning in. “That’s a good one to get if you’re not used to spice.”

Carter raised an eyebrow. “Who says I’m not used to spice?”

“Says the Latina to the white boy. You guys think salt and pepper are the only spices that exist.”

Carter laughed. “All right, fair point.” He gestured subtly towards where Mrs. Bunnag had disappeared. “Am I right in thinking she’s tried to set you up before?”

“You have no idea.” Leticia rolled her eyes. “Every day I come in here it feels like she knows someone I should let her set me up with.”

“I get that. My parents think it’s high time I started dating again.”

Leticia frowned. “Bad breakup?” She knew all about those. Not that she’d ever had one herself. A bad breakup usually required you to have been in a serious relationship in the first place. But she’d held Sharon’s and Debbie’s and Tom’s and Jonas’s hands all through the heartbreak before.

Carter shook his head. “Um, something like that.”

Leticia could tell he was holding something back but, well, who was she to judge? He’d just met her and she didn’t know what kind of crap might have happened to him in his last relationship. Jonas still didn’t really like to talk about his last boyfriend because of how awful the experience was.

“Well, I wish I could empathize,” she said, “But I’ve never been anywhere close to a serious relationship so…”

“Oh come on, no serious boyfriends ever?” Carter asked. “That can’t be possible.”

He seemed genuinely interested, but Leticia suspected the slight change of subject was also to draw them away from such a delicate topic. She decided to go along with it. It wasn’t her place to get him to spill all his secrets. “I just never found anyone I wanted to be serious with. Didn’t help that I think I’ve got a bit of a vibe about me.”

“A vibe?” Carter chuckled.

“Shut up, I’m serious! Like… You know those people—you meet them and you’ve got no proof, but you just know they’re an asshole. I think I’ve got the same thing but like, as a bad girl. People want to sleep with me but they don’t want to properly date me, y’know? And I never had anyone that I was into enough to try and fight against it when they just wanted a simple hookup.”

“Fair enough,” Carter said. “I think that’s pretty unfair, though. To just make that kind of assumption about you.”

“Well, I mean, I go out to clubs every weekend and I’m not known for my loose-fitting clothes. I can see why they make that assumption.”

“You could be going out to clubs just to dance,” Carter pointed out. “And just because you want to show off what you’ve got doesn’t mean you want people to touch it. It’s still an assumption.”

Leticia was caught off-guard by his sweetness. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Carter smiled at her, and Leticia melted just a little. “And you look perfectly professional to me.”

Leticia looked down at her blouse and slacks. “Ah, well, that’s because I’m at work. I’m a very serious head curator for a very serious museum, didn’t you know? I have to look the part.”

“Oh yes.” Carter nodded. “How else are you going to get those artists to listen to you?”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started.” Leticia smiled up at Mrs. Bunnag as their food was delivered. “Everyone talks about the tortured artist, lack of self-esteem, that sort of thing, but I think they took that and turned it into a need to act like they’re the most important person in the room.” Leticia sighed. “But, frankly, I’ll take them over the board.”

“Ah, civilians with opinions.” Carter rolled his eyes. “God save us.”

“How are we supposed to get people from every walk of life to come and visit us if the snobs keep making us do things their way?” Leticia asked. “I just—sometimes I could just strangle someone, I really could.”

“I’m right there with you.” Carter shrugged. “Sometimes you have to wonder why you took this sort of job.”

“Maybe if I’d had any talent at it, I’d be one of those arrogant artists,” Leticia said. “But I can’t draw or sculpt or anything for shit. I just really, really love it.”

“Same here. I mean, I never really tried that hard at actually making art. I just love talking about it and learning about it. It’s like loving to watch movies but not actually wanting to help make one.”

“Right! Exactly.” Leticia grinned at him, glad that someone agreed with her and saw things the way that she did. “Oftentimes I feel like I’m dealing with people who have this job because they had no other choice, or they were artists who took it to have a steady paycheck and got stuck with it. But I chose this. I think art is worth protecting and sharing. If I can help do that, then I’m happy.”

“I bet you were the sort of person who cried about the Nazi Devastation,” Carter said.

“Oh God, yes. All the time. I saw that one film about it and they had this shot where they were burning a Picasso…”

“Yes!” Carter’s eyes went wide. “I cried at that part, not gonna lie.”

“It’s just…” Leticia made a motion with her hands, unsure of how to say this. “I mean, everything is precious. But art—you can’t replace art. It’s unique. You can’t—a car gets totaled, it’s awful, but you can go and buy that same model. A house burns down, generally speaking it’s not a very creative house, is it? You can rebuild it. But art, real art, you can’t make it once it’s gone. It’s just… gone. We have to preserve it, whether it’s a painting or an ancient city or whatever.”

“You’re straying dangerously close to the big ‘what is art’ question,” Carter pointed out, the corners of his mouth twitching upward like he was trying not to smile. Carter struck her as the kind of guy who smiled easily. She liked that.

“Oh man.” Leticia shook her head. “No, I am not getting into that argument again. Feels like that’s half of what I’m doing, just arguing with people about what makes something art. I’ll pass.”

Mrs. Bunnag brought the check, which Carter insisted on paying and Leticia insisted on at least splitting. “Technically I’m your boss, you should be letting me pay for the entire thing.”

“I’ll let you split it,” Carter replied. “But only because of that.”

“Oh, please,” Leticia snorted. “If I let you pay for all of it then it’ll just convince Mrs. Bunnag this is a date.”

“I have to admit, my heart pretty much stopped when I realized you were my coworker now. I felt so embarrassed.”

“I know! My friends managed to get the story out of me last night and they teased me about it forever. As if either of us had any way of knowing who the other one was.”

“Life likes to throw us these weird coincidences,” Carter observed. “Sometimes it feels like the universe is laughing at me.”

“Oh, definitely. Wait until you hear about what happened to my best friend, Sharon.”

She told him all about how Sharon had met her husband Ross. Sharon worked as the PR person for a local charity, one that Ross, a surgeon, donated to regularly. They met at a gala event and ended up having a one-night stand back at Ross’s apartment. On her way home early in the morning, Sharon had gotten into a car accident.

“And the guy who operated on her…”

“Oh no way.” Carter shook his head, laughing. “Seriously? Her one-night stand was her surgeon?”

“Now her husband,” Leticia pointed out. “They’re expecting their first kid.”

“That is truly crazy.” Carter indicated between them. “Ours really doesn’t compare. They win.”

“Thank you, that’s what I said last night.”

“You’re being really great about this, though,” Carter added. “Many people would have been cold or distant or maybe even nasty. You’ve been nothing but nice.”

“Well it was hardly your fault,” Leticia replied. “You didn’t know any more than I did. And you’ve been pretty sweet about things yourself. And not just about this whole…” She waved between them. “Thing. Not every guy would be okay with having a woman as his boss.”

“I assume you’ve earned it,” Carter said. “And at the children’s museum, most of my coworkers were women.”

Leticia checked her watch. “Speaking of work, we should get back.”

They finished paying and Leticia waved off Mrs. Bunnag with more insistence that Carter was not her boyfriend, just a coworker, of course she’d be back soon, maybe she’d bring Carter but maybe not because again, not her boyfriend, and then they were out the door.

“All of her kids are grown,” Leticia observed. “And they don’t live nearby. I think that her matchmaking me gives her something to do, you know? It’s like having a child she can look after again.”

“I get that,” Carter said. “Parents just want the best for their kids, and she seems to think that being with someone is what would be best for you.”

“I’m not disagreeing with her,” Leticia replied. “I guess I’ve just never thought about it.”

“About being with someone?”

“Well it’s a perfectly nice idea,” Leticia said, “But who’s got the time? And where am I going to find someone who is willing to commit but also willing to go out and dance with me at a club when I want to work off some energy?” Not that she’d be going to clubs for too much longer. Already she was starting to feel a little old compared to most of the people who went there. She figured in another five years, she’d be done with them for good. Still, not like she was going to wait five years before finding a husband.

“Maybe the right person wouldn’t ask you to make more time than you can give,” Carter pointed out. “Or they’d find a way to spend time with you that didn’t require you giving up any of yourself or what’s important to you, like this job.”

“You mean the job that’s going to consume the rest of my life,” Leticia joked. “Or at least that’s how our old curator made it sound. I’m going to die an old maid at this rate.”

“I’ll be sure to give you a kitten to start your cat collection,” Carter said solemnly.

Leticia laughed. “Don’t you dare!”

“You don’t like cats?” Carter put his hand over his heart. “I don’t know if we can be friends.”

“You look more like a dog person,” Leticia commented.

“That’s what everyone says.” Carter heaved a sigh. “It’s the great tragedy of my life.”

“So are we friends?” Leticia asked, catching on to what he’d said a minute before.

“I’d like to be,” Carter said carefully. “I mean, we have to spend a lot of time together. And we seem to get on well. I’d like us to keep being at least friendly with each other.”

“No, I’d like that too, I just didn’t know if… well, I mean—we slept together. I didn’t know if that would color anything for you.”

“Not in a negative way, at least,” Carter replied, a hint of the flirtatious tones he’d used Friday night seeping in.

Leticia shivered just a little, thinking of all the things they’d done together on Friday. She definitely was thinking of him in a positive way—but also a not at all platonic way.

Still, he was her coworker. And she was his boss. If they were going to do anything more, he had to be the one to make the move, not her. If he didn’t want to do that, if he just wanted to be friends, that was his choice. She would be fine with that.

And if she kept having vaguely inappropriate thoughts about taking him back to her office and ripping his shirt open and—

Well. She could handle those just fine.