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Chapter Text

She closed the door to his bedroom quietly behind her, tiptoed towards the hallway where she found her shoes and his - messily kicked off their feet as they’d come in the night before. Her coat, she noticed, was on the sofa. She grabbed it swiftly, stepped into her heels, wincing slightly at the ache of the soles of her feet. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the one between her thighs.

God, she needed a shower, needed to wash him off or she’d be of no use to anyone. Why had she let Mary persuade her to go out for drinks the night before starting a new job? Sure, it was cause for celebration – finally, after all these years, she’d be rid of the man who had once tricked her into believing he was her best friend – but she should have known she’d drink more than just the one cocktail.

That is to say, she only drank two, because the man she’d just left asleep in the bed she had just vacated, had bought her the second one, had sent it over to her table in a true dickish move that she should not have considered attractive at all. But she had – or, maybe it had been his smile, the glint in his eye, the mess of his curls, the shape of his glasses, the forearms his rolled up sleeves had exposed…

She opened his front door and stepped out. She hesitated for a moment, rummaged through her bag even, but there was no paper or pen in it. And, sure, she had lipstick, but she was not going to write on his front door, was she? How was he supposed to get that off easily? It would annoy him, for sure, and – also – she wasn’t going to risk his not calling her back by leaving her number exposed for the world to see. He had seemed into it, into her… not just a little either.

But what if it wasn’t about her? What if he was just really into sex? What if anyone would have done it for him? She was not prepared to suffer that kind of mortification on the day she was about to start afresh. This was supposed to be a new start, a new chapter – last night was the final huzza of her last – and quite frankly horrible – one. At least, it ended on a high. Several ones, but that was something she should not dwell on too much now, or she’d regret leaving in the first place.

She caught the tube home, awkward in her short dress, which made it glaringly obvious that she’d gone out the night before and was traversing the proverbial walk of shame. Not that she was feeling ashamed, mind. There were too few people around at six in the morning to judge her in any case, and whenever she thought about his hands on her skin, his lips near her ear, she had to suppress the shiver that threatened to escape.

Once home, she stepped out of her dreaded heels again, let her dress slip to her feet and stepped into a hot shower, letting the water wash away the evidence of him – in so far as this was possible, because that was definitely a hickey just below her right breast, and just below her navel, too.

Half an hour later, she was dressed and feeling refreshed, finished a bowl of yoghurt, swapped her heels of the night before for a pair of respectable Moccasins, grabbed her work bag and then set off for Sleekeazy’s, her new place of employment.

She was feeling empowered, in all honesty, as she walked into the building, and up to the front desk, announcing her presence. Today, she decided in Dear Evan Hansen-style, was going to be a good day, and she smiled to herself, looking about the space as she waited for Mr Potter – her new employer, who wanted to receive her personally, already a huge leap forward from her previous job at Riddle’s – to arrive. She checked the time on her phone – it was a very respectable 8.47, meaning that she was a good 13 minutes early. This, she hoped, her new boss would take as eagerness to start.

The doors of the lift opened, and she looked up from her phone just in time as out stepped - oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god!

He had stopped in his tracks, too. His eyes wide behind his glasses, his hair messy and unkempt, slightly wet from the shower he had clearly taken himself after she had left that morning, and – she flushed violently, heat creeping across her skin. She had trouble breathing.

He, had been stricken for a moment, but then something flickered across his face – his jaw tightened, his shoulders squared, and he stepped forward. He was clearly the professional here.

“Miss Evans,” his voice did not betray a thing, “welcome to Sleekeazy’s. We are delighted to have you with us.”

She blinked, momentarily frozen, then forced herself to move. Her hand extended automatically, fingers slightly trembling as they met his in a handshake that was far too formal for someone who had, just hours ago, traced those same fingers across his bare chest.

“Mr Potter,” she managed, her voice thinner than she’d hoped.

Just as she tried to extract her hand from his firm grip – of course, his handshake was a powerful, confident one – her phone slipped from her other hand, and clattered to the floor with a sharp, echoing thud.

“Oh god,” she muttered, crouching quickly to retrieve it, cheeks burning. She should not have worn this pencil skirt today. It had been a very, very, very bad idea.

She could feel his gaze on her as she stood again, smoothing her skirt and forcing a tight, apologetic smile. Her voice came out far too high-pitched: “First day jitters!”

She thought she saw the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly, but might have imagined it, too.

“Understandable,” he said, voice smooth, professional. “First days can be… unpredictable.” There was something in his eyes as he said the last word that made her stomach flutter. Then he turned slightly, gesturing toward the elevator. “Shall we?”

She followed him, trying to match her strides to his. She knew he was tall – they had laughed about their height difference once she’d discarded of her heels before he had picked her up, and she had wrapped her legs around his waist – but she couldn’t remember having to almost run to keep up with him the night before. Maybe, because he'd been wanting to stick to her as much as possible then, while that was clearly the very opposite of what he wanted in broad daylight.

She winced involuntarily when he pressed the button for the lift, calling it down. He had been so warm, so open, so inviting the night before… could it be that he had been disappointed to find her gone without a goodbye?

The doors to the elevator opened, and they stepped inside. He pressed the button for the fifth floor, and as the doors closed, she found herself unable to keep quiet.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, the words tumbling out. “I had no idea… clearly, I wouldn’t have… you know, if I’d known who you were, and this morning I shouldn’t have –”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly, cutting her off. His gaze flicked to the side, avoiding hers. “I get it. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. She could hear it in the way he said it – too fast, too flat. His jaw was tight again, and though his posture remained composed, the corners of his mouth didn’t twitch this time. If anything, they seemed to press into a firmer line.

She didn’t dare say anything, however, and didn’t get the chance either for the doors opened with a ping, and she found herself on the floor where she’d had her job interview a couple of weeks prior with one of the Sleekeazy recruiters, Marlene McKinnon.

“So, welcome to the team. You’ll be working closely with our other lab technicians, of course. The labs are to the right, my office is all the way on the other end of the hallway, although you probably won’t find yourself there often –” James cleared his throat, his voice still measured, but quieter now. “If you need anything, Miss Evans,” he said, the formal address landing with just a touch too much emphasis, “don’t hesitate to ask. I have no doubt that the others will help you get settled.”

He gave a brief nod, the kind that felt like punctuation rather than warmth, and turned to walk away – not hurried, but deliberate. She thought she saw his shoulders tense just slightly as he did.

“Fuck,” she said, barely audible but the sentiment behind the word there all the same.

“Oh my god!” Mary cackled over the phone as she called her best friend from the supply closet opposite the Sleekeazy labs. “You shagged your boss?!”

Lily winced, clutching her phone tighter and glancing toward the hallway to make sure no one was within earshot. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “I didn’t know he was my boss, you know that! You were there last night.”

Mary was laughing so hard she was wheezing. “This is so much better than that time you accidentally flirted with your dentist.”

Lily groaned, leaning against the shelf of neatly labelled ingredients. “This is a disaster. He was so cold this morning. Like, ice. I think he’s mad I left without saying anything.”

“Well, yeah,” Mary said, still breathless. “You ghosted him. After a night of what I assume was very enthusiastic teamwork and collaboration.”

Lily closed her eyes. “I’m going to die,” she said, fingers of her one hand pressing into her forehead in an attempt to rid herself of the headache that had started to bloom there in the last hour. “I’m going to die of shame in this very supply closet, and they’ll find me next to a vat of...” she looked to her left, read the label of one of them any different chemicals stored there, “... Citric Acid.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going to go back out there, head held high. The sex was good, yeah?”

“I cannot possibly go into that over the phone at work,” she almost whispered, pushing away from the shelf, “but rest assured that I had a really good night. My morning, on the other hand…”

“You should go over to his office later today, wearing nothing but your lab coat. I bet he’ll forget exactly how angry he’s supposed to be with you.”

Lily nearly dropped her phone again. “Mary!” she hissed, scandalized. “I am not going to seduce my boss in a lab coat. This is a professional environment!”

“What? He’s seen you naked already, and you him. What’s there to lose?”

“My integrity? His?”

Mary snorted. “Please. His integrity left the building the moment he started undressing you with his eyes at the bar last night.”

Lily let out a strangled noise. “I am hanging up now.”

“Only because you don’t like that I’m making sense –”

She’d pressed the end call button, slipped her phone back in the pocket of her lab coat and then stepped out, hands reaching for her ponytail to tighten it, and slamming right into someone’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” she said, practically wheezing as she reached for her collarbone. She felt as if all air had been knocked out of her.

“Fuck,” a voice echoed, and a pair of hands grasped her upper arms. “Are you all right?”

She looked up, still clutching her collarbone, and found herself staring into a pair of concerned hazel eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses.

Of course.

It was him. James.

She remembered asking him for it – his first name, that is. Remembered how he’d said it against her lips, how she’d repeated it after him, how the corners of his lips had lifted against his mouth, how he’d said: “It sounds much better when you say it.”

The universe had clearly decided that today was going to be a full-blown soap opera.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her voice came out more like a squeak than anything even remotely reassuring.

He frowned.

“You don’t sound it –”

“Please,” she interrupted, “I’m so embarrassed already. I can’t deal with any more of it.”

Instead of stepping away from her, he closed the distance between them, his hands now firmly pressed against her forearms, sliding up and down in a soothing rhythm.

“Breathe, Lily.” He said it softly, so she was the only one who could possibly hear it – not that they were at a risk of being overheard, seeing as everyone was in either their lab or their office. “Just breathe.”

His thumbs brushed slow, calming circles over the fabric of her sleeves, and as she did as he’d told her, she found herself remembering how perfect he’d been the night before, how he’d whispered in her ear that she was fucking gorgeous, that he loved the taste of her… she ducked out of his grip, cheeks a bright red as she said in a panic: “I resign.”

James Potter – her boss – blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Pardon?”

“I resign,” she repeated, though this time it came out more like a whisper. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks still burning.

He stared at her for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair, visibly trying to process. “You’ve been here for three hours.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “My resignation has nothing to do with me being here. It’s got everything to do with –”

“Stop right there,” he said, reaching for her hand, and pulling her with him. “We’ll talk about this in my office –”

“I have made up my mind –”

“Well, I’m not accepting your resignation. If you want to quit, you can send a letter to HR, and be done with it. You won’t go through me.”

They’d reached the end of the hallway, and stepped into the room that was clearly his office. He closed the door behind her, and – to her horror – the shutters, too.

“I don’t know what you think we’ll be doing in here, but I’m not about to spread my legs for you just because you got me to come three times last night.”

He turned, incredulous. “Who do you think I am? I’m just wanting to have a private conversation –”

“We don’t need the shutters closed to have one. Just the door will do.”

He shook his head, but did as she requested, striding over to his desk and perching on the edge of it, arms crossed now.

“You’re not resigning. It took us over half a year to find someone suitable for the job.”

She mirrored his posture defensively. “So, just because you had trouble filling a position –” she stopped, her cheeks heating as her words registered, and she felt flustered once more. “What I mean to say is that just because you spent six months looking for someone, I’m stuck?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I’m just not wanting to let you leave because you impressed Marlene. Because you’re perfect for the job, because you have all the qualifications –”

“We had sex!” she burst out, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she’d been holding in. “Really good sex. And now I’m supposed to pretend it didn’t happen? Like it doesn’t matter?”

He'd dropped his arms, held on to his desk, knuckles whitened. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble pretending like it was anything special this morning.” His voice sounded low and controlled, but he didn’t fool her – he was hurt.

She blinked, swallowed, looked at her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I panicked, I think. This was supposed to be a new chapter, and I wanted to do well on my first day at a new job… I thought about leaving a note, but I didn’t have any pen or paper, so I…”

“Left,” he finished.

She nodded, eyes still on the floor. “Yeah.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, but then he exhaled, rubbed a hand over his face. “All right, we’ve got a problem here, but it’s not insurmountable. You can keep working here – I swear I’ll keep my distance, that you won’t even see me.”

She laughed bitterly. “That’s not a solution.”

“Then what is the solution, Lily?” He asked, sounding almost angry now. “You want to leave? Throw away a job you worked hard to get? That was – as you said – supposed to be a new chapter for you? All because of one night?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

He stood up from his desk, his voice quieter now. “I’m trying to make this easier for you. For both of us. I don’t want you to give up on anything that you actually want. Not if it’s me that’s standing in the way.”

Chapter Text

“Easy for me?” She was bristling, so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t even look at her, not really. Not without remembering the way her skin had felt beneath his hands, the way she’d unravelled for him, piece by piece, until all that was left was this breathtaking woman who had undone him with a single look. “You think this is easy for me?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself, to sound like someone who still had control. “That’s why I said I want to make this easier – I know very well that my walking out of that elevator was quite possibly your worst-case scenario.”

Heaven knows waking up without her had been his.

She let out a bitter laugh, one that cut through him like glass. “Don’t give yourself that much credit.” The words stung more than he cared to admit. “You have no idea how much worse I’ve had it. This is definitely... awful, and not at all what I expected, but...”

She trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment, her chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath. When she opened them again, something had shifted – just slightly.

“Actually,” she said, her voice softer now, “you don’t deserve that. It’s unnecessarily unkind. You were...” she hesitated for a moment, “... very good to me last night. And for that – I’m grateful.”

He wanted to tell her that he was grateful, too. That their night together had completely bowled him over, that she left him utterly floored. He wanted to walk up to her, reach for her, wrap her up in his arms and kiss her like she was all that mattered –

“But that just means that I have to leave. I can’t stay here after what happened between us. There’s clearly some –” she gestured between them, “– type of tension between us, which feels like it’s going to be utterly explosive and destructive, and neither of us can afford that. Not you as my boss, not me as the woman who works for you.”

He crossed his arms again, jaw tight. “If tension is the problem, then let’s find a way to defuse it.”

She blinked at him. “How could we possibly?”

“A trial period,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them. “You stay for a month. If you feel uncomfortable –”

She was already shaking her head.

“Okay,” he adjusted quickly, reading her resistance, “two weeks. You stay for two weeks and feel it out. I’ll keep my distance. I’ll make sure you have space to settle in, get to know your colleagues, get a feel for the place. No pressure. No expectations.” He hesitated, then added, more quietly: “And if, after that, you still want to leave – I won’t stop you.”

She frowned. “That’s not a solution, that’s prolonging the pain.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t allow himself to show that this – being referred to as a pain – cut him. “You changed jobs for a reason, right?”

She hesitated, arms still wrapped tightly around herself. Then, tightly, she quipped: “Yes.”

“Then don’t let one night – one stupid mistake, if that’s what you want to call it – derail everything you’ve worked for.” His voice was steady now, but there was something raw beneath it – the realisation that while their night had been earth-shatteringly intense for him, it might have just been any other night for her, any other guy fulfilling her needs. This – for her – very well might not have been as special as it was for him.

Still, he pressed on. “You’re here because you wanted something new, you said so yourself. Something better. Don’t walk away before you’ve even given yourself the chance to see if this place could be that.” He stopped for a  moment, shoved his hands into his pockets. “Not if it’s me who’s stopping you.”

She looked at him – on, two, three seconds – and for a moment he thought she might cry. But – thankfully, his whole argument would have been null if she had – she didn’t. She just nodded slowly, like she was trying to convince herself.

“I know it’s not ideal, that this is hardly the first day of work you’d been hoping for, but... let me prove to you that this can work. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

She bit her lower lip, huffed. “This gets out and I’ll be the girl that slept her way into a new job?”

He grimaced, but shook his head all the same. “They won’t think that. I didn’t even hire you – that was all Marlene.”

Bloody hell, if only he had been the one to hire her. He would not have made the mistake of propositioning her at a bar then, would have pined for her from afar – and while that, too, sounded awful, it was better than feeling like a goddamned predator.

“Besides,” he continued, ignoring his own train of thought, “this won’t get out. I won’t tell anyone, and neither – I’m guessing – will you. And if something does come to light –” he ran a hand through his hair for what must have been the tenth time over the course of this conversation, “– I’ll take the blame. I was the one to send you a cocktail at The Three Broomsticks last night, I came over for a conversation, I asked if you wanted to come home with me –”

“I,” she said, “was a very active participant in all of it.”

He swallowed. At least, he thought, there had been something on her end. That was soothing enough. It might help him sleep tonight after he changed the sheets, washed off the smell of her.

“Right,” he said, “but you didn’t know who I was, just like I didn’t know who you were. None of it was calculated on either end.”

She seemed to weigh his argument, shifting her weight from one hip to the other. Then, she nodded, sighing heavily.

“All right, two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

Relief settled somewhere deep in his chest, in his stomach.

“Two weeks,” she confirmed, “and then we reconvene.”

“So, oddly enough,” Sirius said as he handed James a beer that evening, “you never did tell me what happened with you and the redhead.”

It was a good thing he hadn’t been drinking the beer yet for he would have most definitely choked on it, or sprayed it all over his best friend and adoptive brother.

He had always counted himself lucky to have met his lifelong friends at a formative age, since it meant he knew them through and through. In this moment, he lamented it for this was as true for him as it was for any of them.

“What’s that face for?” Asked Sirius, raising his eyebrows.

“What face?” He asked, now actually taking a sip of the beer to give him the much needed liquid courage he needed to get through that conversation.

Sirius merely pointed his beer at him. “That face, your face.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’ve had it for quite a while. Since birth apparently.”

“Don’t be coy – not with me,” his brother stated, leaning against his kitchen counter. “What happened? You could barely keep it in your pants at The Three Broomsticks last nights, and she seemed more than willing when you suggested going to your place. Was it disappointing?”

He put his beer bottle down, grimaced.

“That bad?”

“No, it wasn’t bad, it was...” how to put this into words? He’d well and truly fucked himself over by shagging the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, who turned out to be his employee and had demanded he’d accept her resignation. It was a wonder, truly, that she’d – in the end – agreed to stay with Sleekeazy for a two-week trial period.

“It was great,” he said eventually, shoulders sagging. “It’s just that she left in the middle of the night, which was already a shitty way to start my day, but then – guess what?” He looked expectantly at his brother.

“You found out she has a husband? Or, worse, an STD?”

James gave him a flat look. “However horrific both scenarios would be, it’s just a tad worse.”

Sirius sent him a disbelieving look. “Worse than being married or contagious?” He scoffed. “What, she’s your cousin?”

James shook his head. “You know that I’ve hardly got any family, it’s why mum and dad were so easily convinced that making you my adoptive brother was the right choice.” Then, ripping the Band-Aid right off, he said: “She’s Sleekeazy’s new lab technician.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Sirius burst out laughing. “Oh mate. That’s so much worse.”

James groaned, nodding as he dragged a hand down his face. “You should have seen the look on her face... she tried to quit. I had to talk her into staying for a trial period.”

“Jesus,” Sirius looked utterly horrified. “The way she must be feeling right now. She thought she’d just had a night of decent enough sex, left you in the bed thinking she’d never see you again, and then... bam! There you are – in the flesh!”

James groaned again, dragging both hands through his hair now. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder. Also, thanks for the complete lack of empathy for me in this scenario.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s in a position of power here. You pay her.”

“For honest work! Not for sexual services!”

“Don’t be disgusting, Prongs,” said Sirius. Then, with a sense of gravitas that was most unlike him, he added: “So, what are you going to do about this? Fire her? Shag her again? Pop the question?”

James shook his head, brows furrowed. “None of the above.”

“Then what?”

He sighed, reaching for his beer again, chugging half of it down his throat before he said: “I’m going to be professional. She’s definitely staying on for a two-week trial. If things go well, and I manage to keep things separate, she might stay indefinitely.”

“Oof,” Sirius shook his head, grimaced, “you saw her naked, mate.”

“Something I am actively trying to erase from my mind,” James muttered, rubbing his temples like he could scrub the memory away.

“Yeah, you’re not going to succeed.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Pads, it’s appreciated.”

“I’m just saying,” said Sirius, “that historically you’ve not been very good at keeping things casual. You’re not exactly Mr Calm and Collected, are you?”

“I run dad’s company,” he reminded his brother. “I can be level-headed. Just because I was stupid for one night, doesn’t mean I’m not.”

Sirius snorted. “You run dad’s company like a maniac with a heart of gold and a caffeine addiction. Which, to be fair, is working out for you. But don’t pretend that it makes you in any way emotionally bulletproof.”

James opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again quickly. He sighed, closed his eyes. “I just… she’s gorgeous, Padfoot, and the sex… I felt like we really connected, you know, which meant that waking up without so much as a note was already a stab to the heart, but this?” He opened his eyes again, looked Sirius straight in the eye. “Seeing her every day and having to pretend like I don’t know her? Like I can be around her and not think about what we did?”

“Then why torture yourself? You said she wanted to quit – why not let her?”

“Because Marlene was over the moon when she found her. You know she searched high and low for a new lab technician, and she – Lily Evans, that is – used to work at Riddle’s, and while there’s lots I can say about that man, he does recruit the best chemists right out of uni.” He shrugged. “What was I going to do? Tell Marlene to start again? Let someone with lots of potential go? I’m a businessman now, Sirius. I need to do the hard thing sometimes if it’s what’s best for the team.”

Sirius hummed, not quite convinced it seemed. “And you’re sure you’re not being the self-sacrificial lamb in this scenario?”

James scoffed. “You said it yourself: I’m the one that pays her, I’m the one that’s in power, here. If anything, I’m the wolf.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, then took a slow sip of his beer. “Right. The wolf,” he said slowly. “All noble and tortured, prowling around the office trying not to sniff after the redhead.”

James groaned. “Please stop.”

But Sirius wasn’t done. “You know what I think? You’re not the wolf. You’re the idiot who fell headfirst into a trap he didn’t even know was set, who set it for himself even! And what’s worse? Now you’re trying to chew your own leg off to get out of it.”

“That’s not –”

“As always, you’re trying so hard to do the right thing, but you matter too, James. You are not the villain in this scenario, you are just a guy who wanted a girl – just because that’s blown up in your face, you don’t have to be the one to fix it.”

Then, stepping forward and clapping James on the shoulder with his one hand, and raising his bottle of beer in his other hand, he added: “Now, let’s get some more of these in our system. Sounds like you need it, mate. These are going to be the two weeks from hell, if you ask me.”

Chapter Text

“So, how does that work?” Asked James Potter.

Her boss.

Her stupidly attractive employer.

The man she needed to forget she’d slept with.

Or, at least needed to pretend she’d forgotten to had slept with.

Right.

He wore a lab coat, which should have been a truly ridiculous look on him – at least, Lily thought, could whatever deity was up there have granted that? – but instead, it made him look like the romantic lead in an Ali Hazelwood STEM romance.

(She loved reading those, even if the hero in The Love Hypothesis had always reminded her of Severus, which had made things increasingly awkward once he had revealed to her the depths of his – from her end fully unrequited – romantic feelings.)

The lab coat Potter wore, however, was somehow tailored just enough to hint at the broadness of his shoulders, and when he leaned in to examine the vial Kingsley was holding, the collar shifted, revealing the edge of his throat – which, frankly, should not have been as distracting as it was.

It wasn’t just that, though. His hair was a mess – as it seemed to perpetually be – making it look like he’d just rolled out of bed, like he’d run his hand through it a million times already that morning.

It could, of course, also be that someone else had done the honours for him. Heaven knows that she’d been the one to pull at his curls – his face buried between her thighs – some thirty hours ago.

Not that she should be thinking about that. It bordered on sexual harassment in the workplace.

She wondered if she ought to tell him that he should not have rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, that it was technically a safety hazard...

Kingsley – fully unaware of her undivided attention when it came to his conversation with their boss – held up a vial of pale blue liquid, the light catching the shimmer of suspended microcapsules. “We’re calling it PhaseClean for now,” he said, voice smooth and deliberate. “It’s a dual-phase shampoo – formulated to activate differently depending on scalp condition and hair type.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

God, even his eyebrows are expressive, Lily thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from sighing aloud.

Kingsley smiled faintly. “Meaning it’s smart. The base formula contains encapsulated botanical enzymes – primarily bromelain and papain – which remain inert until exposed to heat and friction. Once activated, they gently exfoliate the scalp, breaking down excess sebum and product buildup without stripping the skin.”

James leaned in slightly, intrigued. “And the shimmer?”

Stop leaning in, Lily begged silently. You’re going to ruin me by showing off even more of that throat, those collarbones…

“Microcapsules,” Kingsley explained, turning the vial. “They contain a blend of amino acids and lipid-repairing agents. Think ceramides, panthenol, and a touch of niacinamide. Once the enzymes do their job, these are released to restore the scalp barrier and strengthen the hair shaft. Also, it makes the product look just that more attractive when it comes to marketing, doesn’t it?”

A smile formed on Potter’s face. “So it’s exfoliating and reparative?”

“Exactly. And it’s adaptive. The formula adjusts its pH slightly depending on the moisture level of the scalp. Dry scalps get a gentler cleanse and more hydration. Oily scalps get a deeper clean and sebum regulation.”

“This is excellent,” their boss grinned wide now. “Well done, King –”

“Oh, not just me,” said her colleague, eyes flitting to where she stood on the opposite end of the room. “Evans has been here only for a day, but already her insight has proven critical.”

Her cheeks were aflame as she averted her eyes quickly, not wanting  to mess up a day into the two-week trial period that she and Potter had agreed to the day before. Also, she didn’t want to risk any of the men being able to read her mind, and catch her mid-fantasy.

“This is ninety-nine percent your work,” she said, acting as if she were very busy by frowning at the numbers that appeared on the screen of her laptop. She didn’t register a single one.

She could feel her boss’s eyes on her, could feel his gaze as vividly as she could remember the way his lips had brushed against hers that first time.

It was maddening.

Not just because it made her skin prickle with awareness, or because her heart had the audacity to skip a beat – but because she knew he was trying so hard not to make her feel uncomfortable. He had asked for permission to enter, for goodness sake, while this was his bloody lab.

“Well, I’m very grateful for the one percent you added, it wouldn’t be complete without it,” grinned Kingsley, and as she looked up to send him a smile – she really did like him an awful lot – her eyes accidentally caught Potter’s.

She watched him swallow, his gaze flitting back to the vial in Kingsley’s hands.

She wondered if he was struggling like she was. If he thought about how her fingers had pulled at his hair, about the way she’d gasped his name like it was the only word she knew…

God, she hoped not.

Or – maybe – she hoped he did. At least, then, she wouldn’t be alone in this.

“Great teamwork,” he said, attention fully on her co-worker now. “Anyway, this looks very promising and ready for trial. Keep it up in here!”

He walked towards the door again, shrugging off his lab coat, his light blue dress shirt clinging to his shoulders in a manner that was honestly sinful.

She stared at her laptop again, determined to actually read the numbers this time. They might as well have been hieroglyphics, which was truly concerning since she was supposed to present them to the Product Development Team.

Unfortunately, she felt capable only of creating a presentation titled: Why James Potter should never be allowed to wear a lab coat in my presence ever again. That she could quite confidently create a list of compelling arguments for.

Thankfully, Potter had now left the space, and she the tension released from her shoulders with it. She leaned a little closer to the screen, taking up a more relaxed position when Kingsley said: “It’s hot in here, huh?”

She almost knocked over the beaker on her right.

“Excuse me?”

She looked up at her colleague, who grinned like he was the cat that got the cream.

“I knew it!”

“You knew what?”

“Hey, I get it! We’ve all been there – our boss is hot. Don’t worry, though. You get used to it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, far too quickly. Far too prickly, too. She sounded like a prissy little princess and she hated it.

Kingsley must have realised, too, for he raised an eyebrow, releasing a slow: “Sure… and I don’t know how to read enzyme data.” He must have noticed her panic, though, for he added calmly: “Don’t worry, crushing on James is a rite of passage for all of us – a gay or bisexual awakening for some of us, even.”

She placed her hands on her cheeks, they were hot to the touch. “What gave me away?”

“The fact that you wouldn’t meet his eye, and that I’ve been in your shoes before,” he said kindly, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “Come out with us for drinks after work. Get to know the team!”

She swallowed, pushed a lock behind her ear. “I don’t know…”

“He won’t be there, don’t worry. He never joins.”

She should not have felt a sting of disappointment. It should have been exactly what she wanted – getting to know her colleagues in a safe and relaxed environment. No risk of running into the man she definitely needed to avoid if she wanted to have a chance at surviving two weeks at the new job, and possibly extending those two weeks into something a lot more permanent.

“All right,” she said, sending her lab partner a smile that she hoped he didn’t recognise as being just a tad too strained. “I’ll be there.”

“Here she is! Our newest, sleekest recruit of the year!”

Kingsley’s voice rang out as he gently nudged Lily forward into the centre of the group gathered around a cluster of high tables at the back of the Hog’s Head.

Lily blinked under the sudden attention, her cheeks warming as half a dozen faces turned toward her. Most were familiar – Marlene McKinnon, who had interviewed her; Caradoc “Doc” Dearborn, from Marketing, who she had overheard make three puns about shampoo on the elevator ride up to the office that morning; and Filius Flitwick, from Product Development, who had nodded enthusiastically during her data presentation earlier that day.

Then there was Pomona Sprout, James Potter’s personal assistant, who greeted Lily with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “Welcome to the chaos,” she said. “You’ll fit right in.”

Within minutes, Lily had shaken hands, exchanged names, and found herself caught in a lively conversation between Marlene, Doc, Kingsley, and Pomona. It was surprisingly easy to laugh, to listen, to feel like maybe she might one day belong, and a weight was lifted off her shoulders.

Maybe she could do this. Maybe it was possible to survive this trial period at the company, to feel less and less awkward about having shagged the boss, to do her job without being forced in his proximity, unable to suppress her desire for him properly.

“So, where did you work before you started with us?” Asked Doc.

“Riddle’s,” she replied, involuntarily pulling a face as she said it.

“Oh, shit,” Doc’s eyebrows flew up his forehead.

“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling awkwardly, “I know – it seemed like a dream when I started there pre-Covid. That was before it all happened, of course. You’ll all have read the papers.”

“You were there during the vaccine rollout, weren’t you?” Marlene asked, sounding sympathetic. It had been a topic of conversation during her interview as well.

Lily nodded, her fingers tightening around her glass. “Yeah. I was in data analytics. We saw early on that the pricing model was going to shut out entire regions. I raised it. A few of us did, really.”

“And they ignored you?” Doc asked.

“They didn’t just ignore us,” Lily said. “They buried the reports. Reassigned people. One of my colleagues got laid off two weeks after speaking up in a meeting. HR called it ‘restructuring.’”

Kingsley’s jaw tightened. “That’s disgusting.”

“The profit they made was all the more so, to be honest.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Honestly, I don’t know why I stayed as long as I did. I suppose because I started there with someone I thought was my best friend... when that finally blew up in my face, too, I knew I had to go.”

Pomona reached out and gently touched Lily’s arm. “Oh, sweetheart…”

She smiled. “It’s fine,” she told the group at large. “You’re all making me feel very welcome and at home. I feel very lucky to have gotten out – and to Marlene for hiring me.”

Marlene grinned wide, raised her glass. “To Lily!”

“To Lily!” echoed around the table, glasses clinking in a chorus of welcome.

Lily laughed, cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“You’re one of us now,” Kingsley said, slinging an arm around her shoulders with a friendly squeeze. “And we look after our own.” Then, leaning in, he added in a stage whisper to the group at large: “She caught the bug too, by the way. You know… the one.”

“Oh no!” Marlene laughed loudly.

Doc frowned. “Wait, what? Which bug are we talking about?”

“Don’t be so boringly heterosexual, Doc,” Kingsley said with a roll of his eyes, clearly enjoying the stir he’d caused. “I’m talking about the James Potter Bug.”

Doc’s frown deepened. “I still don’t –”

“She thinks Potter is fit, Doc,” Marlene interrupted bluntly. Pomona giggled like she wasn’t a woman well in her fifties, while Marlene winked in Lily’s direction. “Honestly, Lily, you’re in good company. Half the office has had a crush on Potter at some point.”

“Celia in Accounts even had a bit of a fling with him a couple of years back,” Pomona added. “We all pretended not to notice it, of course, but she’d leave his office with a smile that was just a tad too telling for us not to know exactly what was going on in there.”

Irrationally, a small, sharp twist bloomed in her chest. She took a sip of her drink, trying to drown the feeling.

“All to say that you don’t have to be embarrassed at all, Lily,” Marlene said as she placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It’s almost a tradition by now.”

“Exactly!” Exclaimed Kingsley. “It’s your initiation! Let’s drink to that, shall we?”

Conversation moved on, and Lily found herself listening to and laughing with her new colleagues. The warmth of their welcome, the easy rhythm of their banter was so unlike anything she had experienced at Riddle’s that she couldn’t help but feel immensely relieved that she was here now. It also strengthened her resolve to make this trial period work, so as she stood in the bathroom, washing her hands, while Marlene talked to her through the closed door to her bathroom stall, she wasn’t at all prepared for what the woman sprung on her.

“So, how bad is it?”

“What?” Asked Lily, looking at the door to the bathroom that Marlene pushed open, through the mirror.

“The thing with Potter,” she said, eyebrows raised. Lily’s heart stopped. “I mean… it’s all laughs and jokes for most of us, but I can tell that it bothers you.”

“Oh,” she swallowed, reached for some paper towel, focusing on drying her hands, “I mean… it's not awful. It’s just… it’s unethical, right?”

Marlene stepped fully into the bathroom now, letting the door swing shut behind her. She leaned against the sink next to Lily, arms crossed, her expression thoughtful but kind. “Unethical?” she echoed. “You mean that you can’t possibly think he’s attractive because he’s your boss?”

Lily nodded and Marlene continued.

“I mean... you can’t help who you like or are attracted to, can you? It’s a scientific thing, isn’t it? Pheromones, hormones, chemistry...” A laugh escaped the other women. “It’s not like you’re plotting to seduce him in the boardroom. You’re allowed to have a crush, Lily.”

“Of course I wouldn’t seduce him –” she said, definitely blushing again, because – god – she’d already had sex with the man! “– I just don’t want to make things awkward around the office.” She tossed the damp paper towel in the bin.

“And you won’t, because James has never once noticed that anyone at the office likes him, save Celia, and that was only because she made it abundantly clear by dropping her skirt for him.”

Lily blinked, trying to keep her expression neutral, fighting to suppress the vivid memory that surged up uninvited – James’s hands sliding up her dress, her own fingers fumbling with her knickers the moment they’d stepped inside his flat. The heat of it, the urgency. She swallowed hard and focused on Marlene’s voice.

“He’s super focused on his job,” Marlene continued, oblivious. “Sleekeazy is his baby – or, well, maybe more like his sibling. It was his dad’s baby until he retired, so it can’t be Potter’s baby too.”

“So, you know,” said Marlene, her smile encouraging, “don’t worry so much. You’re not going to derail anything by having a harmless crush. Just keep being brilliant – I didn’t hire you for nothing!”

Lily nodded, faking a smile as best she could, her stomach twisting with unease.

If only any of this whole situation was actually innocent…

Chapter Text

His morning had gotten off to a rather rough start. It, perhaps, should not have come as much of a surprise, seeing as his every day since finding out that the girl of his very dreams was his employee, had been rather horrendous. Still, today had been particularly trying: he had woken up late, had spilled his take-away coffee all over his dress shirt, had arrived to Sleekeazy’s to find Clingy Celia – he’d shuddered, and practically sprinted into his office, hoping she hadn’t noticed him – sobbing at Pomona Sprout’s desk, and now he’d opened his inbox to find that he’d gotten 63 new emails since he’d last opened them the night before.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the rushed shower he’d taken after realising he’d slept through two alarms. His inbox blinked mockingly at him, the unread count climbing by the second, and he hadn’t even dared open the Slack app yet.

It was going to be one of those fucking days, and he wished it was over already.

He closed his eyes, leaned back in his desk chair, and gave himself a good minute to steady his breathing before he got to work, and opened up the first email to have arrived that morning.

He was fully immersed in his third email, having replied to the first two with the kind of clipped efficiency that only a caffeine-deprived executive could muster, when a knock sounded on his door.

Pomona stepped in, her expression the perfect blend of maternal and mildly amused, holding out a freshly pressed dress shirt like it was a peace offering.

“I figured you’d need this,” she said, eyes flicking to the coffee stain still drying across his chest.

James blinked at her, then at the shirt, then back again. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know,” she said breezily, placing the shirt on the edge of his desk. “Also, Celia’s gone home early. Emotional exhaustion.”

“Right,” he said, getting up and unbuttoning his shirt, “did she see me?”

Pomona hummed. “I’m afraid she did, yes. Her boyfriend dumped her last night.”

“Just my luck,” he said, tugging the ruined shirt off and reaching for the clean one Pomona had brought.

“I thought you quite liked her,” said his personal assistant, raising one single eyebrow.

He pulled a face. “So did she.” He pushed his arms through the sleeves of the shirt she’d brought him.

Pomona gave him a look. “She wasn’t the only one who thought so, James.”

He flushed, swallowed, cleared his throat and avoided her eyes. “It should never have happened.” He started closing his buttons. “It was…” he paused. He was going to say it had been stupid, but he couldn’t even get the word to pass his lips. He’d said the word too many times over the past few days, and he didn’t want the thing with Lily – god, he couldn’t stop thinking about her – to be sullied in any way by that meaningless little something he’d started with Celia a couple of years back.

He exhaled heavily. “It only happened because of dad –”

“I know,” Pomona said gently. “It was a difficult time for all of us.”

He was fully dressed again, grabbed his coffee-stained shirt, balled it up and shoved it into his bag.  “It’s a good thing she went home if she didn’t feel well.”

“I agree,” said Pomona slowly. Then, leaning in, almost conspiringly, she added: “I do have to say her coming in and seeking me out to confide in did seem a little performative. She could have just stayed in bed this morning –”

He shook his head, stopping her. “Let’s just assume the very best of everyone working here, all right? I’m sure I was the last person on her mind after her boyfriend just broke up with her.”

“Well,” Pomona snorted.

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The woman tutted, reaching for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’ve known you since you were ten years old, James, and you have grown into a very handsome man with an excellent job, and a good heart. There are many women who would consider you an attractive option.”

“Ah,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re not as immune to office gossip as you might think, sweetheart. Not joining us when we go out for drinks, or being the consummate professional is not going to exempt you from any of it, so you might as well live, James.”

It was his turn to snort. The irony of it all! If only she knew… “Oh, I live plenty, Mona.”

The woman arched her brow. “When is the last time you took a day off?”

“I work hard, yes –”

“Your mother and father would so love it if you were to settle down, maybe start a family…”

“All right, all right,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “It’s high time I get back to work. Lots of emails to answer, many colleagues to avoid…”

Pomona sent him a look that clearly indicated this conversation wasn’t over, but she left all the same, the door clicking shut behind her.

When he sat back down in his desk chair, he almost regretted sending her away as ten new emails had arrived in his inbox since she’d come in.

The thing was, he was really rather good at his job. He’d always been good at whatever he set his mind to, in all honesty. School, sports, university, the fast-track management programme he’d signed up for after his dad had had his heart attack – he’d excelled at all of it. He was – annoyingly, frustratingly – a bit of a golden boy, which really put an unfair amount of pressure on him.

Not that there was anyone but himself that put at least ¾ of the pressure on.

It quite simply explained a lot about him - how he’d hole himself up in the office until everyone else had left, how he was the one to turn the lights off, how he was always one of the first people to get there in the morning… He’d learned how to lead from the very best: his dad. And he was not keen to disappoint the man he believed to be the finest human being in existence.

His mother, by the way, might take offense to that, but she would also soon attribute his very best qualities to her influence on him.

This all to show that James did not do things like “going out for lunch.” He did do lunch, of course. Just more of a working one, where he sat at his laptop, and chewed on his lunch of choice while checking numbers, reading reports…

Today, as he got his lunch out, he was very busy trying to ignore the fact that the report he was about to open now was written by none other than Lily Evans. At this he was not even remotely successful, so the disruption that ensued was actually quite welcome, albeit wholly unexpected.

The door to his office opened with a dramatic flair that truly ought to have clued him in, however, when he looked up and saw his mother standing there, he still blinked and asked: “Mum?”

His mother must have registered his surprise. In true Euphemia Potter fashion, however, she did not explain her presence in the slightest. In his mother’s eyes she just was, and should always be expected.

”Eating at one's desk,” she began, floating into his office, “is a health risk.”

He rose an eyebrow, eyed the unopened lunchbox on the corner of his desk. “Do you have any statistics to back that up?” He asked.

“Plenty! I read about it in Good Housekeeping!”

“Your favourite magazine now that you’re enjoying the life of a retiree.”

“Don’t mock me,” she said, placing her handbag on his desk. “Your father and I are taking you out for lunch today.”

He sighed, leaning back. “Do you have to spring that on me? There’s such a thing as a phone, you know. You can send me a text –”

“You always say that you are far too busy,” said his mother. “I know your tactics. You forget that I’ve been married to your father for as long as he’s had this company. I have all the experience in the world when it comes to coaxing men out of their office.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Where’s dad anyway?”

“Where do you think?” His mother scoffed. “In the lab, of course.”

His heart stopped. If he was in the lab, that meant only one thing.

He got to his feet, reached for his coat. “You know that I don’t want him bothering the lab techs,” he said. “Not in the least because he should be taking things easy after the heart attack.”

His mother waved a hand, completely unbothered. “You know what he’s like. He just likes to speak science –”

“Mum!” He exclaimed, already rounding his desk and making for the door. “You can’t – we’ve got a new lab technician. She doesn’t know that dad sometimes shows up to share his expertise.”

“You know how much he likes to talk to the staff,” his mother said as she followed him out of his office. “I am sure they do not mind. He is a very charmingly scattered man – a mad scientist, if you will.”

“Not reassuring at all, mum,” he replied.

He pushed open the door to the lab, an apology on the tip of his tongue, and froze. Because next to his father – oh bloody fuck – was Lily Evans, smiling wide as she showed him something on her laptop.

“It’s truly amazing. Kingsley is brilliant!”

“Babe,” said Kingsley from the other side of the lab, winking through his safety goggles as he held a beaker and a pipette, “it’s because you inspire me to achieve my full potential.”

His brain had short-circuited and he just stood there for a moment before he entered fully, practically tripping over his feet as he reminded himself – mantra-like – to not look at her, to not show anyone – most certainly not his mother – that Lily Evans made his very heart stutter, that he couldn’t stop thinking about what she felt like pressed up all against him.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

Fuck, he wasn’t smooth at all, was he? The words had come out far harsher than he had intended in any case, and he winced internally. God, what might they think of him? What might Lily?

His dad looked up, utterly unfazed, grinning like he’d just discovered the cure for baldness. “I am thoroughly impressed, my boy. Shacklebolt and Evans here make one hell of a team!”

James forced a smile that felt like it might crack his face in half. “That’s… great,” he said, voice tight. “We’re very happy that Miss Evans has decided to join the team.”

Do not look at her, do not look at her.

He looked at her.

Just for a second, but it was enough.

So utterly, breathtakingly beautiful. How fucked up was it that he’d truly cocked that up? How was it just his luck that she turned out to be his colleague hours after she’d left his bed? What did it say about him that this was the second time that he’d gotten involved with someone who worked for him, even if he hadn’t known this time around?

The one thing that had been somewhat reassuring was that as he’d looked at her, she’d looked at him, too. Her eyes – that unreal shade of green – had locked with his for a moment before they’d flitted back to the screen.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat, “dad, apparently you and mum are taking me out for lunch?”

His father looked up from the work station, eyes bright behind his glasses. “Ah, yes!” He turned to look at Lily. “It was wonderful to meet you. Thank you for humouring an old man.”

Her smile made his stomach flop uselessly.

“Likewise, Mr Potter.”

“Fleamont!” His father said, grabbing her hand, and shaking it. “It’s wonderful that you joined the Sleekeazy team. Stepping inside these labs… it never fails to remind me how proud I am to have started it all these decades ago.”

Lily’s smile didn’t falter – if anything, it softened. “You should be proud. You did an amazing job, and clearly your son is carrying on the legacy wonderfully.”

Do not let this go to your head. She’s humouring your dad.

“Yes, he’s doing a decent job, isn’t he?” His father had made his way over to him, clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, about that lunch – I am starving.”

“That new lab technician of yours is very pretty,” said his mother. “I know that’s not what it’s about, of course, but goodness – I couldn’t help but notice!”

James’ heart had only just calmed its incessant hammering, but now his pulse spiked again. His one hand curled into a fist.

“It’s nothing more than a simple observation,” his mother continued sweetly. “Did you notice, Fleamont? Her hair is striking.”

His father, bless him, nodded enthusiastically, sipping his drink. “Remarkable shade.”

“Fitting that she’d end up working for a haircare company,” Euphemia Potter said, her eyes widening as a thought occurred to her. “Oh! She must be the face of one of our new campaigns.”

“Mum…”

“She would be perfect! I can see it already! I ought to send an email.” Then, reaching for her cup of tea, wrapping her hands around it. “Is she single? Do you know?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Mum, really.”

Euphemia gave him a look that was equal parts innocent and mischievous. “I am only asking and trying to help,” she said. “I know you wear glasses, but you must have seen. She is a rare beauty.”

He tried not to squirm in his seat. “She’s a colleague, an employee.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” His mother arched a brow. “Surely, being the Sleekeazy CEO doesn’t blind you to these things. I know you wear glasses, James, but –”

“You know very well it’d be inappropriate, mum.” He looked at his father. “Dad, tell her it’s not done.”

His father looked from him to his wife. Then, he said: “Well… technically, it would not be ideal if you were to say it to her face, but this is a harmless conversation between your mother, yourself and I. We are only complimenting the girl, aren’t we?”

He shook his head. “Can we please talk about something else? This is making me feel uncomfortable.”

Euphemia sighed dramatically, as if he’d just ruined her favourite pastime. “Fine,” she said, stirring her tea with unnecessary elegance. “We’ll talk about something else.”

Fleamont leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling. “The quarterly numbers, perhaps?”

“Maybe we could talk about anything but Sleekeazy’s for a change?”

“Not talk about work?” His mother asked, sounding delighted. “What a wonderful idea! How about we talk about something a little more personal? When did you last go on a date?”

He regretted his insistence not to talk about work instantly.

“Can we also not talk about my lack of a love life, please?”

Especially now that the two topics were woefully connected at the moment?

“That sounds horribly bleak, darling.”

“It’s not bleak. I’m just working hard –”

“You know that it nearly killed your father, don’t you? Didn’t you practically run out of your office when you heard your dad was in the lab? You were scolding me –”

“I wasn’t scolding you, I just –” he exhaled heavily. “I just don’t feel like talking about myself today, I suppose. Not in the slightest because there’s not much to tell, and I don’t want you to worry about me working too hard.”

“Your mother always worries, you know that.”

“Well, she doesn’t need to –”

“Perhaps if you gave me reason not to,” his mother interrupted, setting her tea down. “I just want you to be happy, my sweet. Not just at work, but outside of it, too!”

James rubbed at his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I am happy,” he said, though it sounded defensive even to his own ears. (Of course it did, seeing as it was a lie.) “I love what I do.”

“Your mother and I don’t doubt that you love your job. You thrive at Sleekeazy’s, my boy. I am ever so proud that I was able to hand over to you, even if my hand was forced.”

“I should have forced that hand many years sooner,” said Euphemia Potter stubbornly. “But, oh well, it is my lot in life, I suppose – I am forever to be surrounded by stubborn men who do not see that I know best.”

Then, before he could open his mouth, his mother sat up, her smile widening. “Oh, there it is! The food!”

If there was one thing that would successfully distract his mother from his case, it was the promise of a delectable meal to gush over. James had to resist exhaling in relief, smiling at the waiter instead, and thinking that – at the very least – his mother couldn’t keep firing questions his way while eating.