Laying in Bed at One in the Morning
Stephanie Becker stood in my doorway on a Saturday night, head titled to one side, green eyes brighter than ever. It had been nine months since I last saw her.
"Hi Nick."
*****
My relationship to Steph was complicated. It was 'to' and not 'with' because we'd never been a couple.
After COVID was mostly over we got a bunch of new hires. They replaced folks who were in the wave that retired or moved on after the pandemic. To a one they were under thirty, some more or less straight out of school, a few coming off a first job. Digital forensics is a growth industry; my company mostly worked with the financial sector. Steph's previous job was in finance doing analytics.
Being one of the senior people left, it fell to me to train the incoming employees. Some of them really weren't into the job for one reason or another. HR are a great bunch of liars, they'd tell you one thing, hire you and you find out you're doing something else; not a few punched out or transferred because of it. Some just weren't all that good. There were a few though that stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Steph Becker was one of them, the best of them. Smart, a fast learner, sometimes bloody single-minded, she was the definition of forensic, pulling things apart at the subatomic level and making sense of them. Not only was I a teacher and mentor to her but we also worked cases as part of a four person team. I learned quickly that her facility with the English language was beyond compare, she wasn't just funny, she was witty. Her ability to banter went beyond anything I'd ever seen before. I gave up trying to get the best of her.
*****
"Hey Steph. Come in."
She stepped into my apartment; she looked good tonight. As if she could be anything else.
"It all fell through?"
Steph nodded. "Just as predicted. Nothing." She looked down and away, lost staring at something only she could see.
In that moment I wanted just one small thing. To put my hand on her shoulder, to connect with her, nothing romantic, nothing sexual, just be there for her.
Steph looked up at me and I got lost in her eyes.
*****
Our team hit the road four or five times a year. Basically, we were living in each other's hip pockets sixteen, seventeen hours a day for a week at a time. We'd put in ten hour days and then find a local brewery and hang. Just because I was 15 years older than them didn't mean I couldn't match them beer for beer. I used to joke about having trained professionally. It was one of those things that sounds like a joke but it's the literal truth; the listener just doesn't know it. I came within inches of becoming an alcoholic because of a pile of shit I went through.
Spend that kind of time with people and you get to know them. Mostly. Steph didn't talk about her past a lot. I knew she came out of East Jesus Nowhere and a few other details here and there. Whether it was because of our age difference or she was just intensely private I never knew. I suspected it was a mix of the two.
Steph was scary smart; she had no peers. It got to the point where we finished each other's sentences, professionally speaking. So, we've got witty and smart. Only woman I've ever met who pulled off the hat trick; throw drop dead gorgeous into the mix.
She clocked in at 5' 5" with dirty blond hair, (she colored it), dark eyebrows and was frankly shapely, before her I'd never have looked twice at a curvy woman. Steph was quietly sensitive about her height, she always wore something with heels to them, boots being her first choice. Where some women might go for clothes that concealed their curves she took the opposite strategy; most days she wore form fitting jeans and looked good doing it. Her choice of tops didn't run as tight as the jeans; she was always exquisitely put together. I will never forget her heading out to a meeting one day in her jeans and boots, a green turtleneck under a blazer.
*****
"Let's sit down" I said.
Steph shucked off her jacket and dropped her purse. I'm convinced the Universe likes to play jokes on us. Only explanation for why she was wearing the green turtleneck.
*****
One day I was minding my own business at home when it hit me out of the blue; I realized I was attracted to Steph. I marveled at the feeling for about two seconds before starting an internal screaming fest with myself. There was the age difference, I was her mentor, and based on her excellent work I'd been trying to get her a promotion: how would it have looked if we were involved? I was a cautionary HR tale. Topping it all off was the fact that she was totally uninterested in me. I was seldom included in anybody's after work plans. Drinking on travel didn't translate into anything back home. Basically, I was a coworker and that was it.
I did a lot of research on crushes and yup, I had one bad. Interesting thing about crushes, basically you rewire your brain to dump a metric fuckton of dopamine and oxytocin into your system when you have any contact with your crush. Even a picture can do it. The most perverse thing about all this was that when I was with her, I knew I had zero romantic interest in her. And I'm the type that needs to be emotionally involved to have sex. I wondered at one point if because I couldn't have her, I convinced myself I didn't want her.
*****
Stephaine Becker in the flesh after nine months. Give an alcoholic a drink and you get the same result as what I was feeling. Literally. It's the same mechanism.
I looked at her and "I love you" went through my mind. My rational side kicked in and told the brain chemistry to fuck off.
I pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer and held it up for her to see.
Steph just nodded. Vodka was our weapon of choice. Vodka is low in calories so she could watch her weight while getting anesthetized. It was a good cheap option for me.
She smiled when she saw the shot glasses. I brought them back from a trip. Steve from our team collected them so we all came home with them for a time. I put the glass in front of her, raised mine.
"To faithless friends."
She held her glass up in acknowledgement and agreement.
